Hexed (18 page)

“No offense,” Lucifer said as she checked the contents of her trick bag, “but you're not really cut out for this kind of thing.”

“Okay, so I may have made a few mistakes when we were casing the joint.”

“Ugh . . .” Lucifer said, rolling her eyes.

“But,” David continued, “I can be helpful. Look at me. I came prepared.”

“David, you look like a mime.”

He was wearing jet-black from head to toe with thick, heavy boots and a ridiculously conspicuous black beanie cap. Not to mention he had more pockets in his cargo pants and field jacket than there were in a Las Vegas pool hall.

“That's so people won't see me.”

“It's not just about no one seeing you. It's about no one
noticing
you. And people are going to notice a Call of Duty cosplayer skulking around in the middle of the night.” She reached up and pulled the beanie from his head. “You know your hair is already black, right?” And Lucifer desperately wanted to run her fingers through it.

So. Distracting.

David turned in his seat and said, “I get it. I'm not a thief. But I want to help. I need to help. I know I'm a liability, but I also know I can be of some use to you. I can be your lookout.” He put his hand on her arm, sending an electric thrill straight to the base of her skull. “I promise, I won't get in your way and I'll do everything you say, no questions asked.”

“David . . .”

“I want to do everything I can to help Gina. But . . .” He paused for a moment, then said, “I'm not going to lie. Your world fascinates me. Magic, being a thief, all of it. I want to know more about it, about you.” He slid his hand down her arm and took hold of her hand. “I like being around you.”

Lucifer watched his eyes in the soft light leaking into the car. Was he being serious or was he using his charm to get his way? Letting David tag along in the cemetery had been a bad idea, but letting him come along on a real job was the pinnacle of rank stupidity.

So why was she going to allow it?

“No questions asked?” she asked.

David raised three fingers and said, “Scout's honor.”

“All right, then. From here on out, you don't ask me what I'm doing or why. You don't speak unless I ask you a question. You just follow me and do as you're told. Understand, David, this is what I do. This is my
job
. But I'm doing this to save Gina. If things go wrong and you get yourself busted, you're on your own. You're not my priority, Gina is. Understand?”

David nodded.

“Good boy. Now let's go. And try not to wake up the neighborhood with those clod stompers.”

Lucifer found the night's overwhelming silence soothing. There was no wind, very few cars, and any other errant sound of the sleeping city was swallowed by the fog. Lucifer had chosen this particular time of the morning to minimize the chances of being seen. It was a golden hour just after the local bars and clubs closed but before the restaurants started their morning operations.

Lucifer led David down an alley and on the sidewalk toward the gallery. This was going to be more difficult than she thought. She knew it was a mistake letting him come along, but she just couldn't say no. She enjoyed having him around, but more importantly, he enjoyed being around her. That is, if he was telling her the truth.

That thought made her head swim. Who knows, maybe he could be good at this. Maybe he had innate thieving abilities. She could teach him, help him improve until, eventually, they could start their own little enterprise. The two of them, working together, being together—

“Stop sneaking and walk normally, David,” Lucifer whispered. “You look like a hunchback who needs to pee.”

Or maybe not.

Lucifer could see him blush with embarrassment even in the morning dark. It was impossibly cute.

Dammit,
girl,
focus.

They passed through another alley behind several restaurants and down the street until they reached the edge of the gallery grounds. Lucifer pulled David under an overhang of thick tree branches looming over the sidewalk. The tree itself was behind the tall wrought iron fence that surrounded the grounds, but its branches stretched out almost to the street. The fence was thick with vines, but they were too weak to support Lucifer's weight, let alone David's. They'd have to go over another way.

Lucifer opened her trick bag and pulled out a rope with a stout metal cylinder about four inches long attached to the end. She pressed a button on top of the cylinder, and three short tines fanned out, creating a small grappling hook. After a quick toss, Lucifer had the rope secured to a branch overhead and climbed into the tree.

Without a word, David scrambled up the rope behind her. She watched him pull himself up with his powerful arms so quickly and quietly she honestly wondered if he had ever done this before. Of course, what should she have expected from the school's star athlete?

Headlights broke through the fog as a car rolled along the street toward them. Lucifer quickly coiled the rope and tossed it back into her trick bag. Lucifer put her hand on David's knee, bidding stillness as they let the car move past. Between the cover of the leaves and fog, she knew they were practically invisible.

It was a taxi, aimlessly trolling for fares. Once it passed, Lucifer and David climbed down the tree and kneeled in the wet grass. “Now you can sneak,” Lucifer whispered.

David smiled in the dark.

They made their way along the fence until they reached the back of the gallery's labyrinth. Lucifer found the small opening of a rabbit trail at the bottom of the hedges and climbed through. Here, David didn't fare as well as he did with the rope. He was almost too broad, and his dozens of pockets caught on the hedge's branches. Eventually, Lucifer helped pull him through.

The high walls of the labyrinth provided the cover they needed to get close to the gallery itself without being seen by the cameras. The labyrinth wasn't terribly difficult to figure out. It was really more decoration than brainteaser. Still, it took longer than she would have liked.

When they reached the entrance, Lucifer stopped and motioned David next to her. She pulled a small silver case from her trick bag and opened it with a soft click
.
Inside were three almond-shaped crystals.

“Hold out your hand, palm up,” she whispered. David did as instructed, and Lucifer placed one of the crystals in his hand. “Don't move.”

She tapped the fingers of her right hand to the fingers of her left hand in an odd but deliberate pattern. Right ring finger to left index, right middle to left thumb, twist, right thumb to left pinky, tap tap. She repeated the pattern but this time started with her left ring finger. When she finished, she touched the crystal with her index finger. The crystal cracked down the center of its length. The two halves separated and unfolded themselves into diaphanous glass wings paired to a small sphere. The wings fluttered and rose from David's hand. The crystal butterfly flapped its way toward the gallery, where it landed on a camera and wrapped its wings around the lens, filtering any person from view.

David sat motionless, his palm still upturned and his mouth agape. Lucifer lifted his chin, closing his mouth with her fingertips, then gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Stay directly behind me. C'mon.”

The window directly beneath the magicked camera was tall and narrow, divided into three equal panes of glass, one on top of the other. It wasn't designed to open, which made it perfect. Most thieves who work windows recommended finding one that opens or cutting through the ones that don't. But Lucifer found that if you completely remove the pane, a curious glance won't raise suspicions where a hole in the glass or an ajar window would.

It took Lucifer less than thirty seconds to disable the pressure sensors, remove the lowest pane, and get both her and David inside.

The gallery was quiet and dark, with only the dull blue glow of the auxiliary lighting system overhead making it possible to see. Lucifer took out another crystal almond from the silver case. This one fluttered into several smaller pairs of wings that each moved off into separate directions.

“Motion sensors,” she said.

David nodded. Lucifer was impressed. She could tell he had a million questions, but he was keeping true to his word and staying silent. No, he shouldn't be here, but Lucifer liked that he was. She was enjoying his presence and, if she was being honest with herself, loved showing off for him.

She bit her lip in an attempt to focus on the task at hand. “Follow me.”

The exhibits looked different in the dark. Everything became more ominous, more haunting in the dim blue light. Still, she would have loved to sit down and enjoy the empty gallery's still beauty.

As they approached the Swan Room, Lucifer stopped and crouched low. Across the main vestibule, a security guard sat behind a desk, the harsh light of monitors reflecting off his shiny bald head. Lucifer quietly pointed him out to David and put a finger to her lips. David winked, but Lucifer could see the vein in his neck pulsing rapidly. His heart was racing. That was both good and bad. Good because it meant he was nervous and had a proper appreciation for what they were doing. Bad because nervous people made mistakes.

Lucifer crept toward the Swan Room with David in tow. She froze when the security guard suddenly laughed. She turned to see he was watching an old sitcom on one of his monitors. Quickly, she and David moved through the archway and into the room.

The Swan Room was completely empty.

All of the paintings that had been on display earlier that day were gone. The only evidence of the earlier celebration were several bare tables and a single plastic champagne flute sitting on a window sill. Beyond that, the painting she wanted was nowhere to be found.

This was a problem. Lucifer had a feeling they were still somewhere in the gallery, but where? “Upstairs,” she said.

The upper floor of the gallery was mostly office space that overlooked the open expanse of the Swan Room. There were no official exhibits, but a few paintings and sculptures were on display much like one would find in any office. Lucifer scanned the rooms, peering into their windows until she came to the large corner office. This was no doubt Ms. Brisendine's. Lucifer could see the paintings through the frosted glass, each carefully leaning against the far wall.

Lucifer examined the lock then reached into her trick bag. She pulled out a screwdriver, but instead of having a typical standard or Phillips tip, the screwdriver had a key welded to the end. The notches along the length of the key were filed down so they were now nothing more than dull nubs.

She held it up for David to see. “Bump key. It's a pretty basic tool that can open most simple locks. All you have to do is slide it in and . . .”

Lucifer put the bump key into the lock and slammed the back of the handle with the palm of her hand. There was a dull thud followed by a click. She handed the bump key to David and then swung open the door.

Val's office was large but minimalist. Her desk was organized, and the shelves that lined the back wall held as many masks and figurines as they did books. For Lucifer, the hardest part of the job was fighting the urge to explore. But wasting time by looking around was a good way to get caught. So she made a beeline for the paintings. There, at the back of the stack, was
Night
on
47th
. Lucifer really did find it to be beautiful.

Such a shame she was going to destroy it.

There was a desperate tap on her shoulder. When she turned, David was pointing to the doorway. Outside in the hall, Lucifer could see the unmistakable beam of light coming from the security guard's flashlight as he walked toward them.

Lucifer pulled a knife and a telescoping poster tube from her trick bag. She quickly cut the painting from the frame, relying on experience to guide her hand while she watched the approaching light. Once it was free of the frame, she extended the tube with a flick of her wrist, rolled the canvas and shoved it inside.

The light flashed across the open door but then swung back and held.

“Oh my God,” David murmured. His eyes were wide as he stared at the light searching out in the hallway. “I can't get caught, I just can't. I'll lose my scholarships. We have to run—”

“Listen,” she whispered as she slung the tube's shoulder strap over her head. “Hide behind the desk, count to thirty, then head for the window. I'll meet you by the tree. Go back exactly the way we came. If I'm not there in three minutes, leave without me.”

“But—”

Lucifer shot him such a withering stare that he blanched. “They're going to know something's been stolen,” her whisper sounding more like a snake's hiss, “but I want them looking for one thief, not two, now hide.”

David hesitated, his mouth twisted in nervous frustration. But as the security guard's footsteps came closer, he ducked behind the desk in a crouch and waited.

Lucifer didn't.

She raced toward the door and, without skipping a step, burst into the hallway, up over the railing and out into the open air. It was fifteen feet to the floor of the Swan Room below. As gravity pulled her down in what seemed an interminably slow arc, Lucifer heard the security guard yelp in surprise then follow it with a string of quite colorful curses. She tucked the tube and her trick bag under her chest while in midair. Finally, she slammed into the floor. She used her momentum to propel herself into a roll and minimize the inertial impact on her feet. There was a split second of dizziness before her roll brought her back to her feet and she was racing toward the archway.

Lucifer was slight enough that, in the dark and with her hair tucked into her hood, she would most likely be suspected of being a small man. Ask anyone to describe a thief, and the first thing they'd say is
he
. Lucifer liked to use that prejudice to her advantage.