“And her ‘good feelings’ really mean something. We won ten thousand bucks once because she had a ‘good feeling’ about a casino’s slot machine.” Mustang blew a kiss into the rearview mirror, Mimic catching it in a delicate hand.
“We’ve made it this far,” Phantom said. “With only one of us getting shot. That ain’t too bad, right?”
“I would have preferred zero gunshot victims.”
“Same,” Phantom said, laughing along with the rest of the crew. The streets began to widen, and the traffic started to increase, the roads packed with cars. The Hollywood Hills rose up in the distance, dry from lack of rain but beautiful nonetheless. Roman sat back in his seat and looked out the window, catching Wyatt’s reflection in the side mirror, his eyes wide and crinkled with a smile as he soaked in the views.
It made Roman excited for all the other places they could go to after this. He wanted to see the world through Wyatt’s eyes, drinking in the appreciation and awe he had for everything around him. Roman had had his fair share of adventures already, so the idea of starting all brand-new ones with Wyatt made him wish he could speed up time and be done with this job.
Mustang sped up, cutting off some traffic and pulling down a busy street lined with small boutiques, windows lined with well-dressed mannequins and interesting antiques. They made another corner, Roman keeping his eyes on the rearview mirror. He knew Mustang was already making sure they weren’t being tailed, but an extra pair of eyes never hurt.
So far, so good. No Pride interference. They just needed to get to the Broad, have Alecia escort them to the book, create the distraction they needed, and get the hell out of there. It was a simple plan, but in Roman’s experience, simple plans unfortunately brought the messiest complications.
Chapter 29
Roman Ashford
The Broad loomed before them, a true oddity of a building. It reminded Roman of a storage drive for his computer, a big white angular brick of a building with “vents” built into all of its sides. The entrance was located under a triangular cutout that was made of all glass, making it feel like they were walking into the jaws of a waiting predator.
Not this time.
Roman walked with Wyatt at his side, flashing the credentials Mimic secured for them. The guards let the two in, Mimic and Bang Bang making for the regular line to buy tickets. Bang Bang gave them a subtle wink as the suited-up pair walked past them, entering a lobby made of all stone, floor to ceiling, a swirling mass of soft gray and black.
He spotted Alecia immediately, standing by a colorful art piece depicting a flock of paper birds flying upside down, a current of paper fish swimming above them, the sculpture moving with the breeze. She was holding an iPad against her light pink blouse, a matching pink headband in her hair.
Roman gave her a quick once-over. Her smile seemed easy and friendly, her eyes warm but her shoulders tense, nearly touching the white pears that dangled from her ears.
“Mr. Owens, Mr. Stevens,” she said, holding a hand out.
There was a tremble there. Was she always this shaky?
Roman returned the handshake, his guard rising. “Thank you for assisting us today, Ms. Anderson.”
“Of course. This Tome of Tomorrow exhibit has drawn a lot of eyes. I’m happy to help you bring even more to it.” She led them through an administrative entrance, the heavy door shutting and blocking out all the noise from the museum. The hallway stretched ahead of them, white and bare and nothing at all like the rest of the museum.
Roman dropped his voice. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.”
She walked a little faster, heels clicking on the tile. They turned a corner. Roman’s hand ghosted over the holstered gun underneath his suit, every blind turn making the hair on his neck and arms stand on end. He hadn’t gotten any significant signal that told him he needed to pull back, but he couldn’t deny that something about Alecia’s posture, her tone, something felt off. He attributed the nerves coming from having to help them steal a valuable artifact from the place that employed her, but Roman couldn’t be a hundred percent sure.
“How much farther?” he asked, Wyatt walking on the other side of Alecia.
“Just through that door. Come.” The clicking of her heels went even faster. She wanted this to be done with, same as Roman. Hopefully they’d both have their wish in the next few minutes.
Alecia opened the door and let them out into a large white room, tourists filtering through different pedestals holding each of the written works in the exhibit. Roman’s eyes went directly toward the Tome of Tomorrow, set on a center pedestal with a beaming light aimed down onto the glass case that held it. A projection of different events that Remy had predicted and written down was displayed on the far wall, directly behind the tome. People lined up to see the macabre images of the various wildfires and hurricanes he had predicted, along with a handful of shocking celebrity deaths and political disasters.