Chapter 21
21
After a sound night of sleep, Celeste had come back to the fold refreshed and ready to ignore her meltdown from last night. Magnus was polite enough to regard her with a casual confidence that didn’t betray how nice he was, and she appreciated him for it. It had been difficult for her to need him as much as she had.
It had also been difficult to hear about his childhood. She didn’t want her image of him to change. For years, he’d been a gentleman thief without a past, charming enough to infiltrate others with his wit and cool demeanor. After being reminded that he’d had a life before their crew, a tragic one, she now saw a man checking his intactness when he thought others weren’t watching.
If he could keep her secret, she’d keep his...
Best to leave it alone and move on.
Her crew had moved on as well. They currently gathered in the basement of the safe house, in Lawrence’s workroom.
Santiago was dressed in another three-piece Armani suit, drinking from a small cup of espresso as he read over Sebastian’s dossier. “The client is Yuri Popov, son of Oleg Popov, a despicably wealthy oil and gas oligarch,” he sighed. “The object is The Third Imperial egg. And the mark is the Victoria and Albert Museum of South Kensington.”
“It arrives to the Tallinn Airport on Monday, at 2:45 p.m.,” Beatrice added. “Sebastian was nice enough to give us information on the man who will be transporting the egg from London.” She presented a photo of a middle-aged white man. “Walter Griffin, curator for the V his arms pumped up and down as he fled ahead of her. She was close behind, but watched in amazement as he leaped over dips in the land and zigzagged through a small group of trees. He must have remembered the terrain from the first lap.
She pushed harder as they rounded the corner of the estate, knowing how much was left to go. That was when she found her second wind. Adrenaline spiked through her body as she came upon Magnus. They had left the trees and were back in the open grass. She remembered on her first lap, there was a slight incline on the side of the estate that forced her to climb.
“I’m on your tail, Mags,” she huffed as she ran alongside him.
“How’s it look?” Magnus asked.
In the time it took her to look down at his ass, he pulled ahead of her.
“Fuck,” she laughed. “It looks cute from back here.”
She’d need to dig down to match his pace again, but once they were back in step, she kept her mouth shut and prepared to tackle the incline. She had a shorter stride than the antelope beside her. While he leaped with a deeper sprint, she scurried with shorter steps.
Near the peak, she managed to pull away from him by at least a yard. On the descent, she managed to expand the gap by another two yards. Soon, they’d round the last corner of the property, and the front door would be in her sights.
I still got it! Celeste chuckled to herself as she left Magnus in her dust.
When she met the outermost corner of the mansion, she cut through, not paying attention to how far Magnus was behind her. She just knew that she was winning.
The terrain changed from grass to the gravel of the circular driveway, just as the marble portico jutted away from the front of the house. It was only about sixty yards away.
And that was when she felt it.
It was like a snake sank its fangs in the back of her right thigh. Pain shot up the muscle of her ass, causing her to falter in her steps. “Fuck!” she shouted, as her hamstring seized up.
Magnus was right behind her when she felt the rough slap of his hand against her backside, then he passed her. “Looking good from back there,” he chuckled, speeding past her.
“Fuck,” she muttered, as she hobbled forward. “Oh, fuck me.”
The rest of the race was a pathetic limp to the finish, only to be met by a gloating Magnus doing a corny dance near the porch. “I win!” he announced to the quiet nature scene that was Piriti. As far as Celeste knew, the rest of the crew was working on tomorrow’s job.
“I forgot how much of a sore winner you are,” she panted, wiping sweat out of her eyes.
“Apparently not as sore as you are,” he said, finally approaching her to see how bad her injury was. “Did you stretch before you started?”
“Kinda.” She grimaced. When Magnus suggested a quick run, she threw on her sneakers and didn’t think too hard about pushing herself to his level.
“Where does it hurt?” he asked, forcing her to lean against him.
“My hamstring and butt,” she said, sinking into his side. He reached below her legs and swooped her up into his arms. “You don’t have to—”
“If you pulled a muscle, let’s not aggravate it.” Magnus pushed open the front double doors and carried her over the threshold. She briefly considered how embarrassing the bridal lift felt when she had two working feet but when the cold blast of central cooling hit her hot skin, she almost cried with relief.
“I’m going to see if Lawrence has any Bengay for you,” Magnus said without a trace of irony.
“Hell no,” she gritted out, shifting in his grasp. “This will pass. I just gotta give it a minute.”
“You’re going to just walk it off?” he asked, raising a skeptical brow.
“If you let me down, I can—hey, where are you taking me?”
Without much effort, he dipped her slightly to open the door to the basement. “Taking you to the gym. I saw some mats down there that might be helpful.”
“What are the mats for?” she asked, reluctantly settling back into his embrace.
“You worried?”
When they reached the gym, he set her down so that she could lean against a wall. She watched as Magnus jogged to the stack of mats and dragged the top mat toward her before unfolding it. “Lie down,” he directed, pointing to the floor.
She hesitated, but knew it was futile. If Magnus insisted on giving her a massage, she’d probably just have to succumb to it. Celeste slowly sank to the floor and released a tight breath. The world was much lovelier on her back. Her strained muscles were almost on their way to loosening under the cool air of the spacious room. She closed her eyes and groaned. “That feels so much better.” And then she felt Magnus’s strong hands squeeze her thigh muscle. “Shit,” she hissed.
“It’s gonna sting before it gets better, CeCe,” he warned. He kneeled beside her, bending her knee toward the ceiling.
Celeste watched him lift her leg over his shoulder, stretching her hamstring. When he pushed her knee past a ninety-degree angle, toward her chest, she sucked in a harsh breath. “Is that your treatment, Dr. Larsson? Torture?”
He pulled back, giving her a little relief. “We’re getting older, my dear. Past forty, getting out of bed can feel a little like torture.” The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile as he gave another push. “Now, what possessed you to sprint like a madwoman when you hadn’t stretched properly?”
Her breath hitched with the tighter stretch.
“Breathe through it,” he murmured, leaning over her.
“I needed to blow off some steam,” she sighed. “I’m nervous about tomorrow. It feels like Bea got into my head.”
“We have a plan,” Magnus said, kneading his knuckles into the back of her thigh. “She’s just nervous because you guys haven’t worked with others.”
“We haven’t. And she’s the new kid. Her confidence is a little shaky and she probably doesn’t realize how helpful she’s going to be,” she said. “But is this a good plan? When’s the last time you’ve hijacked a museum transport van?”
“It’s technically not the first vehicle you or I have commandeered. You just don’t like it because we’re doing this with very little time for prep, and we’re doing it for a guy you don’t particularly like.” As he spoke, he rubbed her muscle harder, digging into the left side of her butt.
The satisfied moan that escaped her throat sounded so loud in the quiet gym.
“Feels good?” Magnus asked with a smirk.
“Admittedly, yes. It seems you know what you’re doing.”
“Just giving your muscles a good post-workout stretch,” he murmured as he released her leg. “Go ahead and flip over onto your belly.”
She sighed as she rolled over. “Go easy on me.”
Magnus scoffed. “You’ve never known me to be easy. I’m not about to start now.”