FIC: Den of Thieves part 2
*phew!* looks like the problem was that I was trying to post in rich text format. Guess I'll have to go through and tag all my emphasised words by hand again. *sigh* Oh well.
Alex never ceased to be baffled by how elaborate the interiors of the old wizard buildings tended to be. She guessed it had something to do with how slowly wizarding culture tended to change - a side effect of being populated by citizens who lived for centuries.
Like most of the old wizard buildings, the ladies room was decorated like something out of a Regency romance novel, with a few wizard touches. A single full-length mirror with an ornate frame took up one wall, between the cubicles and the wash-stands. The wash stands were made of dark brown oak, each holding a china basin. Each had a jug standing by, full of water. The room was full of dim golden light - enough to see by clearly, but not enough for a close inspection - due to the flaming sconces on the wall, their torches never burning the wallpaper.
After using the facilities (at least those were relatively modern! She’d explode before using a chamber pot), Alex moved to one of the wash stands. Touching the handle of the jug, she spoke, “Warm.”
The jug lifted in the air and poured it’s water into the basin. When the water-level was where she wanted, Alex ordered, “Stop.”
The basin returned to it’s position as Alex washed her hands. When she was done, she ordered, “Finished.”
The water vanished from the basin, and the levels in the jug rose to their original position. The water churned violently for several seconds, then became as clear and still as it had been before, all traces of soap and dirt gone.
“Oh, damn it!”
Alex turned to see another guest frowning at the mirror. A blonde twenty-something in a strapless blue dress with a dangerous slit up the thigh, she was occupied with the long, thin stain that ran down the side of her skirt. Reaching into her matching clutch, she drew out a wand. Alex opened her mouth in a warning, but the woman was already speaking the words of a traditional cleaning spell. Which didn’t work.
As the blonde gaped in astonishment, Alex ventured, “Magic doesn’t work in the museum.”
The blonde turned around. “Um, what?”
Alex shrugged. “Many of the exhibits have powerful magic of their own. The only way to stop the ambient magic building up and turning sour was to build anti-magic negating spells into the fabric of the building. Anything that needs a preservation spell is put into a glass case, which is spelled on the inside. There’s only a few wizards powerful enough to cast magic in here - you’d basically need to be a Council member or something.”
The blonde was still looking puzzled. Alex brought to mind one of Justin’s many lectures on magical theory - one of the drawbacks of living with a genius inventor with professor-level education, he occasionally flashed back to his teaching assistant days - and regurgitated the part she’d more or less understood.
“It’s to do with the difference between enchanting an object and infusing it. An enchantment is cast onto an object, and that’s what the negating spells prevent. Infusing an object means that the magic is held within the materials it’s made of - it’s sort of like putting a cloth over a cup, as opposed to filling it with water.” Alex shrugged. “Sorry, that’s the best way I can explain it. Something that’s infused can work here, but enchantments - which are ninety per cent of all spells, including anything cast with a wand - don’t.”
The blonde blinked a few times, and ventured, “Okay, I think I got it. That means that I can’t fix my dress, right?”
“Sorry.”
The blonde shrugged in turn, doing impressive things to the cleavage displayed by the corset-like bodice of her dress. Then an expression of consternation spread across her face. “Oh, I’m sorry - doesn’t that hurt?”
Alex frowned, and the blonde reached out and gently prodded the bruise that decorated her left bicep, stretching across it horizontally. Without a close inspection, it could have passed for a tattoo. Alex winced at the brief flare of pain, and explained, “It’s fine. I’ve been taking self-defence and combat classes, and we’ve been working on stick-fighting. My instructor whacked me a good one last session, and it hasn’t cleared up yet.”
“Why don’t you just have it healed?” the other woman asked curiously.
Alex smirked. “Point of honour.”
The blonde seemed to accept this, and smiled. “I’m Beth, by the way. I’m playing arm candy for my brother - he’s head of security. You are...?”
Alex opened her mouth, ‘Felicia Hardy’ automatically coming to her lips. Then closed it again. She hadn’t used her real name in years. When she’d started on her career as a thief, she’d adopted an alias for everyday life, along with the professional sobriquet ‘the Black Cat’. Thanks to a wide-spreading memory spell, less than a dozen people knew the name she’d been born with. She’d been sleeping with Justin for several months before she told him.
Licking her lips, she realised - this was where it would really have to start. Poor little orphan or not, criminal or not, she belonged here as an invited guest. She didn’t need to hide herself here - she couldn’t hide. She wasn’t just a thief dancing in the shadows anymore. She was an artist, a musician, and most of all a lover. This was part of her life as Justin’s partner.
She straightened her spine and boldly replied, “Alex. Alex Parker.”
Somehow, it felt - freeing. Like she was reclaiming a part of herself that she’d given up long ago, and forgotten about, until Justin tugged on that instant, chemistry-laden bond that had formed between them from that first moment, bringing it back to the surface like an anchor that had been released from the depths of the ocean.
******
Justin sighed in relief as he spotted Alex strolling back towards him. She seemed to be having a fairly involved conversation with a lovely blonde in a daring sapphire-blue dress.
Even more thankfully, the woman - who the hell was she, anyway? He’d never seen her before, but she’d ignored all hints at an introduction - who’d been monologuing at him like a caped super-villain also recognised the blonde, and hailed her with a cry of greeting that nonetheless was in exactly same tone she’d been using at him for the last fifteen minutes.
The blonde obviously knew who his companion was, as she took one look, and abruptly stopped in her tracks. “Um, Alex? I’ll call you tomorrow about that coffee, okay? I think Christian’s signalling me - bye!”
Justin snickered as Alex’s new friend headed off with a purposeful stride, then sighed in relief as Monotone woman headed off in pursuit. He was so relieved, in fact, that it took several moments to realise what exactly the blonde had said.
What name she’d used.
Turning to her, a delighted smile spread across his face. “Alex?” he asked pointedly.
His cynical lover actually looked abashed. “I figured... well, tonight’s about letting people know that we’re an us, y’know? So if I’m going to be Alex with you, I need to be Alex with everyone.”
Justin barely restrained himself from kissing her senseless on the spot. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and started towards the door.
“Justin, where are you going?” she laughed.
“I have something to show you.”
Alex snickered. “Can’t wait for the next round, huh?”
Still grinning - he didn’t think he could stop grinning - Justin towed her out of the exhibition hall and towards the staircase they’d come down less than an hour ago. Screw waiting until the party was over; he needed to give Alex her surprise now.
Now hand in hand, they quickly walked from the stairs - Justin absently nodding at the security officer at the top, who nodded back in recognition - through the main gallery that ran the length of the second floor.
They were halfway across the second floor when Justin stopped in his tracks. Alex cast a quick gaze around, searching for danger, before she looked up at him in alarm.
“I hear something - no, someone,” he muttered. “There shouldn’t be anyone above the ground floor.”
Alex frowned. She knew that Justin’s senses were all drastically heightened during his moon-time, but... “Are you sure you’re not picking up something from downstairs? Through the air-vents, maybe?”
Justin frowned and closed his eyes, to better focus. His hand slipped from hers, to hang by his side. When his moon-time aggression had first started to truly affect his behaviour, he’d tried meditation; it hadn’t worked for that, but it had helped him control his re-tuned senses. Breathing deeply, he quickly centred himself and focused on his hearing. It only took a few seconds to confirm his suspicions.
“People re-arranging themselves? Talking in whispers - the restoration rooms! Alex, we need to hurry!”
Opening his eyes, Justin was about to race off when she tugged on his arm.
“Shoes! Don’t let them know we’re coming.”
Justin nodded and quickly slipped off his dress shoes. Alex was fumbling with tiny buckles and jerked her head towards the door. “Go! But don’t do anything until I’m there to cover your ass! Run!”
Justin nodded and raced out the door.
Alex spent several more precious moment trying to undo the buckles that adorned the slim straps which kept the stilettos attached to her feet.
This was why she never wore high heels!
Swearing under her breath, she reached for a charm on her bracelet. It came away from the chain with a quick pull, and she activated it by pressing it hard between her fingertips. The bottle-opener unfolded between her fingers - Justin must have actually been listening when she told him about that job in Oklahoma with the tornado - and Alex grimly sawed through the thin leather straps. Squeezing the bottle-opener to return it to the charm shape, she manoeuvred the hook at the end into the original link in the chain, and the hook became a loop again, re-attaching the charm to the bracelet.
Damn, she kept forgetting how incredibly fucking clever Justin was at inventing stuff.
By the time she’d found her way to the restoration room, Justin was crouched at the foot of the arch that led to the main corridor. Alex crouched beside him, a shoe in each hand. Those damn heels had to be good for something besides giving her blisters - they were solid and sharp, she could do some damage with them if necessary.
Justin nodded to the display directly across from them and just on the other side of the archway. It was a free-standing suit of armour, and looked like it had been made for the Hulk. Polished mirror-bright, the breastplate clearly showed four black-clad people grouped outside the door to the restoration room complex, huddled around a map. The sole woman - obviously the leader - was pointing to the map, then at one of the crew, then back to the map again.
Alex grinned narrowly. Confirming assignments. Even if they had been dressed to blend in at the party, instead of completely in black - honestly, how cliché could you get? - she would still have identified them as a crew of thieves in a second.
Who better to know, after all?
“You all know your assignments. Keep chatter to a minimum; no one’s supposed to be up here, but no point taking chances. If you’re on a downstairs target, don’t say a damn word while you’re there - if a drunken guest stumbles across us looking for a place to piss, things are going to head south fast. Remember, this is a no-kill job.” She seemed to be looking directly at the man with the tell-tale silhouette of a serious body-builder.
“Better bring the A-game, guys!” the tallest one said mockingly. “The all-seeing eye is upon us!”
The leader frowned, before taking back control of the conversation. “You all have an exit strategy, use it. No improvising. We’ll meet up by dawn back at the warehouse.”
The three men moved off swiftly and quietly, leaving the woman smiling smugly at the map. As their footsteps moved out of earshot, she turned her back to the two of them, rolling up the map, and Justin struck.
Leaping forward, he tackled her to the ground. Before she could make a sound, he grabbed her short brown hair and used his grip to savagely smash her forehand into the floor.
Blinking a little at his ferocity - she truly hadn’t understood how personally he’d take this - Alex moved to join Justin as he climbed to his feet. “Well, I think she’s unconscious.”
To his credit, Justin looked absolutely horrified at his actions. “Oh my God, what the hell did I do? I was just so mad they were stealing from me - from the museum, I mean - and I just...”
Alex crouched down and rolled the woman onto her back. Assessing the already-forming lump on the woman’s forehead, she used her body to keep Justin from seeing her check the thief’s pulse.
Getting to her feet, she told him matter-of-factly, “She’ll be fine. What do we do with her now?”
Justin bit his lip, still looking troubled, but Alex’s calm manner had him thinking straight again.
“We need to call the wardens. The director’s office? ”
Alex shrugged, “Sounds good to me. You can carry this one,” she added, nudging the unconscious woman with her foot.
“What do we do after that?” Justin asked. “Go back to the party and alert security as well?”
“Yeah, but wouldn’t that make the other guests panic?” Alex frowned, as a sudden memory hit her. “Justin? Remember a few weeks ago, when you came to visit me in my old apartment?”
“Hmmm. You were in a strange kind of mood, because you’d turned down a job offer - wait a minute, wasn’t it for here? That’s why you turned it down.”
Alex nodded grimly. “I didn’t get all the details in the initial approach, but it was for several items in this museum... and it had to happen while this exhibit was showing. I turned it down - but I’m pretty sure that this crew is now performing the very same job.”
“What?” Justin exclaimed. He looked down at the unconscious woman at his feet. His expression darkened, his voice lowered to a rumbling growl as he suggest, “Why don’t we wake her up and ask?”
Not in the least disturbed by this uncharacteristic behaviour, Alex shook her head. “It won’t do any good, Justin. The one who wants the items isn’t going to take the risks themselves, or why hire this bunch?”
“Hire? They’re not just working for themselves?”
Alex shook her head. "No, Justin - a solo thief can only pull fairly simple jobs, logistically speaking.”
Justin raised his eyebrows, “I seem to recall you work solo.”
Alex sighed impatiently. “I pull the jobs themselves alone, yeah. But before and after? I have at least half a dozen people I work with to get information, and to steer jobs my way. Before I built up enough of a reputation to work just on consignment, I had others to help me fence the stuff as well.”
His face lit up with an ‘a-ha!’ look. “You mean, like your old classmate Hugh? And your mortal friend Harper?”
Alex tossed him a grin. “They’re my best friends. Any professional associations are strictly a matter of ‘no comment’. Back to the point - I nearly always have only one target at a time. A crew doesn't assemble just because they feel like it. For a job with a full crew, you need to have…"
"Impetus?" Justin suggested.
"Mmmm, good word. They always have a specific target in mind, because the backer always wants something in particular. They don’t always get paid in money - I heard a story from one of my mortal world contacts; remember when ‘Angel returning to Heaven’ was stolen from the Henley in London?"
"Only time it's ever been robbed," Justin remembered.
Alex nodded. "The crew was being blackmailed by a mobster - although that's not nearly good enough to describe just how shitscary the guy was - to get a particular piece or he'd kill the leader's father."
She sighed. "The point being, a job this big always has someone pulling the strings behind the scenes."
"We need to figure out who that is," Justin replied grimly, "Or my collection's never going to be safe."
Alex bit her lip as she mused aloud. “Well, it’s generally easy to control a single individual. But it’s much harder with a group; the Henley crew were all related or might as well have been. The group we just saw didn’t give off the vibe of a real crew - their interaction is usually... well, smoother... and they don’t need to go over anything on site. I think it was assembled especially for this job - Hell, every member has individual targets and exit strategies! For group jobs, management usually needs to be a little more hands-on. It has to be. Honour among thieves does have its limits, y’know?”
Justin's eyes widened in realisation. "The backer's here, tonight. That's what that crack about the All-Seeing Eye meant - the thieves know that the person who commissioned them is right on the scene to witness their work!"
Alex frowned, as she was hit by a sudden and disturbing thought.
"What?" Justin asked warily.
"What are the chances that there are two people out there wanting something from your collection bad enough to commission a robbery?"
"Not much - even in the wizarding art world. Especially considering there's only a fraction of the collection here."
"The backer recruited a whole team to pull off what he wanted me to do alone? Either it's extremely cool, that my professional abilities are so highly thought of… or he knows that I might have an inside track."
"You think he knows who you really are - and that we're together?" Justin asked in alarm.
“If he knows who I am... I’m using my real name tonight! Justin, we need to stop these people now, and we need to do it ourselves.”
“What? Alex-”
“We need to find out what they know,” Alex hissed. “We need to find the backer, and find out what he knows. Any crew leader worth their money knows who really hired them, but they could be under some kind of memory or compulsion spell to keep them from talking. I’ll stop the thieves; you go back to the party and try to figure out who the puppet-master is.”
“Alex, you can’t stop these people on your own. Anyway, if this lot try to take any of my artefacts, they won’t be going anywhere.”
“And if they have the same kind of training I do? My skills are rare, Justin, but I’m not the only person of questionable legality to work in both worlds. It looks like they’ve split up to go after separate targets, so if they all have their own exit strategies at least one of them should get away clean. If we get the thieves in custody, the Wardens can get them to flip on their employer for immunity. If we expose the backer now, any accusations about me or us that he tosses out won’t be believed.”
Justin frowned. “I hate how much sense you’re making.”
“Besides,” Alex grinned wickedly, “I have a dozen weapons they don’t.”
She held up her left wrist at eye level, displaying the bracelet.
“Those spells aren’t weapons, Alex, they’re just little, useful things.”
“Frying pans aren’t meant to be weapons, either, but do you have any idea how easily you can use them to knock someone out cold? Trust me, Justin. I’m at my best when I’m improvising.”
Justin looked at the map he now clutched in his hand and grimaced. “At least you have an idea where they’re headed. But what about this one?” he asked, nodding towards the unconscious woman at their feet.
“I need to go back to the Director’s office to change my clothes - if we put her in the bathroom we could barricade the door?”
“What about the unicorn flax?” Justin suggested. “I wrapped it around the box for the mechanical pieces to make sure no one could wander by and mess things up.”
“I’ll need it for the others - petrifying or sleep spells won’t work here, remember.”
Alex hurried to the Director’s office - luckily, it was just down the hallway - while Justin heaved the unconscious woman over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and followed more slowly. By the time he made it to their destination, Alex was already sorting through the casual clothes they’d worn that day, while they assembled the special safeguards he’d designed for his own artefacts. Heading into the attached bathroom, he crouched down, and carefully rolled the woman off his shoulder and onto the tiled floor.
Turning, he stopped dead in the doorway. Despite the situation, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of Alex wriggling out of her evening dress.
“Hey, Justin? Where’s that map again?” Alex turned around, and grinned at the look on her lover’s face as he approached her.
Alex’s generally bohemian lifestyle meant that she didn’t actually have any formal wear, besides an obligatory little black dress, so she’d bought her outfit especially for tonight. She’d decided to be conservative with her dress, floor-length and sleeveless, with large-patterned black lace overlaid on scarlet satin. But what she wore underneath had been chosen solely for Justin.
“What, no stockings?” Justin casually asked.
“If you want to see me in a garter belt, you’re buying,” she told him. “Those things pinch. Besides, I don’t need anything but skin.”
Justin smirked. “You do have lovely skin.”
Alex smirked back. In her satin strapless bra - fashioned the same way as a bustier, only the bottom hem ended at the bottom of her ribs, rather than her hips - and miniscule matching panties, both the same scarlet as her dress, there was quite a lot of flawless tan skin on display.
Looking her up and down, Justin ran his right forefinger along the lace border that ran across the tops of her breasts. “Even without stockings, your lingerie is… exquisite,” he growled, his fingertip pulling down the cup just a little, until her rapidly hardening nipple threatened to pop into view.
“Down, boy,” Alex chuckled. “Your inner ravenous sex beast will have to wait until after we’ve saved the day.”
Justin shook himself all-over, like a dog - or a wolf - shaking itself dry. “You’re right. Damn, the moon-time’s edging up on me again. Why the hell did this have to happen tonight?”
“Murphy’s law,” shrugged Alex. “Hey, at least this happened when I had a change of clothes available. John McClane may have been able to run around the Nakatomi building in bare feet and undershirt, but I can’t hide in the shadows in my underwear and heels.”
While Justin rolled out the map onto the table, Alex hopped into her black leggings. Her miniskirt was pale blue denim, so that was out. She’d move better without it, anyway. Her canary yellow T-shirt was even worse. She picked up the length of unicorn flax, and carefully wound it around her midriff. Unicorn flax was the most magically potent physical binding there is, and this particular lot was freely given, which made it even stronger. Grabbing Justin’s Tears of Blood tour T-shirt, she moved beside him to look at the map.
“Are you shitting me?” she asked incredulously.
Justin didn’t answer, too busy inspecting the map. Several locations were circled, and he was familiar enough with the layout of the upstairs exhibits to recognise the pieces. Not only was the museum one of his favourite places, all of these particular items had at least one thing in common...
“I thought this was a last-minute reminder of the few places they could use magic! A marked map of the targets? Seriously? Every member of the crew should know the museum layout and the placement of their assigned items long before they head into play. How amateur hour can you get?" she ranted.
Justin rolled his eyes. "You can give them a point by point critique later, Alex. At least this way we know we're they're headed."
"Yeah, I know that this is a huge piece of luck for us, but still -"
"Maybe the crew got thrown together at the last minute!" Justin snarled. "Focus here, Alex. All the things marked on the map? Are from the Russo collection! This is personal, and I want these guys taken down with extreme prejudice!"
Alex raised her eyebrows at his tone of voice, and Justin took a deep, calming breath. Damn territorial instincts. "The point is, is that now you can take them down.” He pointed at one of the circles on the map. “I figure that they’ll have to start on this floor, with whoever’s going after the items on the floor below us working their way down. The mummy case is in a protective enclosure, so whoever's on it needs to hack the spell lock and load it up for transport. That'll take awhile, so you have time to take out the other two."
"Yeah, but their job's simple. What if they're gone or down to the main floor before I get there?" Alex asked. Turning the T-shirt inside out to hide the blood red and silver logo on the front, she swiftly tugged the garment over her head. Justin was tall enough that on her it fell to mid-thigh, which wasn’t very different from what she wore casually around the house. She needed to steal more of his T-shirts in the future.
Justin shook his head, and drew his finger in a line along the map. "They can’t reach this exhibit from the back of the building, only from the main gallery. That runs directly in line with the head of the stairs - and there’s a guard there. They’ll need to move slow and quiet."
"But so do I,” she pointed out, crouching down to tie her sneakers. “I can't let them know I'm coming, either!"
Justin smirked. "They don't have the entrances to the attic marked on this map; I'm guessing they don't know where they are. They can't get into them, either - there's only two keys; one for the Head of Maintenance, the other for the Director. And we just happen to be in the Director's office." Justin reached into the left-hand desk drawer, and pulled out a set of keys. He handed them to Alex, still smirking. "The attic is actually a storage level - it's almost completely clear, partly because it's too hard to get to and partly it’s too humid to be used to store spare items; the spell-dampening fields can’t be countered. It's only five and a half feet tall, but the ceiling’s so thick it’s almost soundproof, so you can run as fast as you need to without worrying about noise. There's a trapdoor one room over from where they'll be. You'll need to sneak the last bit, but that's all. But once you're out, the ceilings are too high for you to get back in - you'll need to sneak through to the second guy on your own."
“Let’s go,” Alex nodded sharply, before heading out into the corridor.
As luck would have it, an access point to the attic was only a short distance away.
“We can’t keep this under wraps for long - especially since there’s no guarantee I can actually stop them all. Remember the blonde I came back from the bathroom with?” At Justin’s nod, she continued, “Her name’s Beth, and her brother’s head of security. Tell him to call Oz; it’ll give me some time to work, and I think Oz’ll help me if something incriminating against me does come out.”
Justin looked up at the ceiling, where you couldn’t see the trapdoor unless you were looking at it, then back at Alex. Reaching out abruptly, he pulled her close, holding her tightly. "Alex, just remember, okay? Nothing in here is worth your well-being. Don’t take any risks you don't have to." Time was ticking by, so he contented himself with a swift kiss, instead of the deep, drowning one he wanted. "I love you."
"Right back atcha," Alex told him, her smile glowing.
"Sure you don't need the map?"
"Justin, please. I am a professional. I know exactly where I'm going in this place, and how to get there. Keep it as evidence for the wardens."
Justin handed her the keys, then bent his knees slightly and made a stirrup out of his hands. Alex placed one sneaker in his linked hands, placing her hands on his shoulders for balance. Justin pushed up and she straightened, reaching the ceiling. It took only a moment's work to unlock the access trapdoor with the key, and only a few moments more to grab the edge of the opening and pull herself up and through - she did this sort of thing for a living, after all. She activated the empty pocket on her bracelet, and dropped the keys in - never knew when or where they’d come in handy - and blew him a kiss for luck as she closed the trapdoor.
Standing, she promptly bumped her head. Alex was five and a half feet tall, and apparently so was the ceiling. Bending over just a little, she looked around to get her bearings.
Justin had been right about this place being almost open - there were a few scattered pieces of office furniture, all showing signs of much wear, but there were no walls to impede her progress. Alex grinned, and took off in a run.
She had another piece of luck, right before she reached the trapdoor she wanted. Someone had shoved some left-over cleaning supplies up here and forgotten them - including a mop. Bracing herself - there was no guarantee this would work - Alex took the mop handle in both hands and broke it over her knee. To her delight, it snapped just where she wanted. She repeated the process, and she now had a pair of two and a half foot long fighting sticks, almost the same as the ones she practised with three times a week.
Who would have thought she’d actually be grateful to Justin for subjecting her to that Stargate: Atlantis marathon?
Moving quietly now, Alex pried up the trapdoor. Bending over, she poked her head through for a quick look around. Listening intently, she couldn’t hear anything.
Alex lifted up her T-shirt, and unwound the coil of unicorn flax from around her midriff. Tying it around the two sticks in a neat bundle, she lowered it to the floor, and dropped her end, letting the rope land noiselessly in a heap.
Alex then gripped hold of the edge of the manhole, and tipped herself through it head-first. Her arms arrested her momentum, letting her whole body unfurl in a smooth, controlled movement, leaving her hanging suspended by her hands for a split second before she dropped to the floor, automatically bending her knees as she landed. Taking another swift look around to orient herself, Alex gathered her sticks and rope and swiftly crept down the hallway.
Crouching down, she poked her head around the doorway, and her breath caught. She’d made it just in time. From here, there were several rooms with doorways precisely in line, so she could see through the Hall of Magic Mirrors and the Grimoire room, right through to the artefacts of Ancient Greece display. The two men - the body-builder and the tall one who’d made the crack about the all-seeing eye - were already sliding the Sceptre of Circe into a soft cotton bag.
Peering down the corridor, she bit back a groan of exasperation - the security guard at the head of the main staircase was gone. Just her luck, her only possible backup was in the bathroom. On the other hand, if these two did have some idea who she really was, at least there was no one to hear any tales they might want to tell.
Alex’s eyes narrowed in thought. There was no window in that room, and the three rooms didn’t connect to any others; they only led into each other straight to the main hallway. Regardless of what their exit strategy was, they still needed to come past her.
But what good would that do? Yes, she’d worked hard at her combat lessons and come a long way in three months, but there was no way she could handle herself one on one against a trained combatant. The only way that she could overcome anyone was to take them by surprise. But being sneaky, winning by cheating?
“At least I’m playing to my strengths,” she murmured inaudibly.
Looking down at her bracelet, she grinned. She carefully tugged off a charm shaped like the lantern of a Victorian era lamp-post, and thumbed the tiny button to dial it to full strength, before she lightly tossed it into the centre of the room beyond. There were no standing displays in the Hall of Mirrors, (although it was actually just a square room) only dozens of mirrors lining the walls, and even the ceiling.
Leaving the unicorn flax in a heap behind her against the wall, Alex carefully stood and made sure she had a secure grip on her sticks.
Alex bit her lip. She had to time this just right.
The two men entered the Hall of Mirrors, each of them carrying a black cotton bag.
One step, two...
As they reached the centre, Alex closed her eyes.
“Let there be light,” she muttered under her breath, triggering the light-spell.
In a room literally covered in mirrors, the light was not only everywhere but blinding in its’ brightness, and the two men cried out, dropping the bags to instinctively cover their eyes
Alex ran into the room full-pelt, her sticks ready to strike. She went for the smaller first, deliberately dropping to the floor and sliding on her knees. Her left stick whacked into the back of his knees, sending him to the floor, where her right stick hit him in the throat. While he choked, she hammered both sticks together down on his head.
A loud snarl was her only warning, and Alex twisted to see the body builder a few feet away and heading straight for her. The murderous look in his eyes sort of hinted that maybe she should have taken him out first. Still on the floor, Alex desperately kicked out - and landed both feet in his crotch.
The man gave a high-pitched scream, and fell to his knees, both hands clutching his junk. Alex scrambled to her feet and shifted her sticks to her right hand, before slamming them backhanded into his head. When he hit the ground, she did it a couple more times. She’d seen enough horror movies to know one hit was never enough. She moved to her original opponent, and hit him again for good measure.
Retrieving the unicorn flax, she grasped the rope with both hands, twisting and pulling simultaneously to separate it into several shorter lengths. Rolling both men onto their stomachs, she bound their hands behind their backs, and their ankles together.
Alex spent a lot of time dangling off buildings by her fingertips, and she was a lot stronger than she looked. But dragging the dead-weight of these two was something else. Luckily, Justin’s present had something to help her here, too.
Pulling off the charm shaped like a cloud, Alex pressed it to both the trussed-up bodies. Hooking her hands through the bonds around their ankles, the ‘lighten the load’ spell let her drag them both out into the hall and down to the storage closet. Activating the pocket on the charm bracelet, she used the Director’s keys to open the closet. There wasn’t much room, so she had to carefully stand them both upright.
Stepping back, Alex was about to close the door when the hallway light caught something on the blonde thief’s chest. Stepping forward, she cast a cautious eye over the two bodies, before she leaned close. The thief was wearing something around his neck on a chain, which had slipped out as she dragged them to the hall. Alex picked up the pendant and inspected it closely, and her eyes widened in recognition.
It was a watch-fob like the one on Justin’s pocket-watch, that she’d seen only a couple of hours ago. Exactly like... except....
Alex inhaled sharply, and her hands flashed to the second thief’s neck, pulling out another chain with an identical watch-fob. No professional wore something this distinctive and easily identifiable on a job.
Hastily locking the door, she stashed the keys again, before she reached for the charm on her bracelet that was shaped like an old-fashioned telephone. She didn’t know what the hell this meant, but she knew that Justin needed to know about it.
Alex never ceased to be baffled by how elaborate the interiors of the old wizard buildings tended to be. She guessed it had something to do with how slowly wizarding culture tended to change - a side effect of being populated by citizens who lived for centuries.
Like most of the old wizard buildings, the ladies room was decorated like something out of a Regency romance novel, with a few wizard touches. A single full-length mirror with an ornate frame took up one wall, between the cubicles and the wash-stands. The wash stands were made of dark brown oak, each holding a china basin. Each had a jug standing by, full of water. The room was full of dim golden light - enough to see by clearly, but not enough for a close inspection - due to the flaming sconces on the wall, their torches never burning the wallpaper.
After using the facilities (at least those were relatively modern! She’d explode before using a chamber pot), Alex moved to one of the wash stands. Touching the handle of the jug, she spoke, “Warm.”
The jug lifted in the air and poured it’s water into the basin. When the water-level was where she wanted, Alex ordered, “Stop.”
The basin returned to it’s position as Alex washed her hands. When she was done, she ordered, “Finished.”
The water vanished from the basin, and the levels in the jug rose to their original position. The water churned violently for several seconds, then became as clear and still as it had been before, all traces of soap and dirt gone.
“Oh, damn it!”
Alex turned to see another guest frowning at the mirror. A blonde twenty-something in a strapless blue dress with a dangerous slit up the thigh, she was occupied with the long, thin stain that ran down the side of her skirt. Reaching into her matching clutch, she drew out a wand. Alex opened her mouth in a warning, but the woman was already speaking the words of a traditional cleaning spell. Which didn’t work.
As the blonde gaped in astonishment, Alex ventured, “Magic doesn’t work in the museum.”
The blonde turned around. “Um, what?”
Alex shrugged. “Many of the exhibits have powerful magic of their own. The only way to stop the ambient magic building up and turning sour was to build anti-magic negating spells into the fabric of the building. Anything that needs a preservation spell is put into a glass case, which is spelled on the inside. There’s only a few wizards powerful enough to cast magic in here - you’d basically need to be a Council member or something.”
The blonde was still looking puzzled. Alex brought to mind one of Justin’s many lectures on magical theory - one of the drawbacks of living with a genius inventor with professor-level education, he occasionally flashed back to his teaching assistant days - and regurgitated the part she’d more or less understood.
“It’s to do with the difference between enchanting an object and infusing it. An enchantment is cast onto an object, and that’s what the negating spells prevent. Infusing an object means that the magic is held within the materials it’s made of - it’s sort of like putting a cloth over a cup, as opposed to filling it with water.” Alex shrugged. “Sorry, that’s the best way I can explain it. Something that’s infused can work here, but enchantments - which are ninety per cent of all spells, including anything cast with a wand - don’t.”
The blonde blinked a few times, and ventured, “Okay, I think I got it. That means that I can’t fix my dress, right?”
“Sorry.”
The blonde shrugged in turn, doing impressive things to the cleavage displayed by the corset-like bodice of her dress. Then an expression of consternation spread across her face. “Oh, I’m sorry - doesn’t that hurt?”
Alex frowned, and the blonde reached out and gently prodded the bruise that decorated her left bicep, stretching across it horizontally. Without a close inspection, it could have passed for a tattoo. Alex winced at the brief flare of pain, and explained, “It’s fine. I’ve been taking self-defence and combat classes, and we’ve been working on stick-fighting. My instructor whacked me a good one last session, and it hasn’t cleared up yet.”
“Why don’t you just have it healed?” the other woman asked curiously.
Alex smirked. “Point of honour.”
The blonde seemed to accept this, and smiled. “I’m Beth, by the way. I’m playing arm candy for my brother - he’s head of security. You are...?”
Alex opened her mouth, ‘Felicia Hardy’ automatically coming to her lips. Then closed it again. She hadn’t used her real name in years. When she’d started on her career as a thief, she’d adopted an alias for everyday life, along with the professional sobriquet ‘the Black Cat’. Thanks to a wide-spreading memory spell, less than a dozen people knew the name she’d been born with. She’d been sleeping with Justin for several months before she told him.
Licking her lips, she realised - this was where it would really have to start. Poor little orphan or not, criminal or not, she belonged here as an invited guest. She didn’t need to hide herself here - she couldn’t hide. She wasn’t just a thief dancing in the shadows anymore. She was an artist, a musician, and most of all a lover. This was part of her life as Justin’s partner.
She straightened her spine and boldly replied, “Alex. Alex Parker.”
Somehow, it felt - freeing. Like she was reclaiming a part of herself that she’d given up long ago, and forgotten about, until Justin tugged on that instant, chemistry-laden bond that had formed between them from that first moment, bringing it back to the surface like an anchor that had been released from the depths of the ocean.
******
Justin sighed in relief as he spotted Alex strolling back towards him. She seemed to be having a fairly involved conversation with a lovely blonde in a daring sapphire-blue dress.
Even more thankfully, the woman - who the hell was she, anyway? He’d never seen her before, but she’d ignored all hints at an introduction - who’d been monologuing at him like a caped super-villain also recognised the blonde, and hailed her with a cry of greeting that nonetheless was in exactly same tone she’d been using at him for the last fifteen minutes.
The blonde obviously knew who his companion was, as she took one look, and abruptly stopped in her tracks. “Um, Alex? I’ll call you tomorrow about that coffee, okay? I think Christian’s signalling me - bye!”
Justin snickered as Alex’s new friend headed off with a purposeful stride, then sighed in relief as Monotone woman headed off in pursuit. He was so relieved, in fact, that it took several moments to realise what exactly the blonde had said.
What name she’d used.
Turning to her, a delighted smile spread across his face. “Alex?” he asked pointedly.
His cynical lover actually looked abashed. “I figured... well, tonight’s about letting people know that we’re an us, y’know? So if I’m going to be Alex with you, I need to be Alex with everyone.”
Justin barely restrained himself from kissing her senseless on the spot. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and started towards the door.
“Justin, where are you going?” she laughed.
“I have something to show you.”
Alex snickered. “Can’t wait for the next round, huh?”
Still grinning - he didn’t think he could stop grinning - Justin towed her out of the exhibition hall and towards the staircase they’d come down less than an hour ago. Screw waiting until the party was over; he needed to give Alex her surprise now.
Now hand in hand, they quickly walked from the stairs - Justin absently nodding at the security officer at the top, who nodded back in recognition - through the main gallery that ran the length of the second floor.
They were halfway across the second floor when Justin stopped in his tracks. Alex cast a quick gaze around, searching for danger, before she looked up at him in alarm.
“I hear something - no, someone,” he muttered. “There shouldn’t be anyone above the ground floor.”
Alex frowned. She knew that Justin’s senses were all drastically heightened during his moon-time, but... “Are you sure you’re not picking up something from downstairs? Through the air-vents, maybe?”
Justin frowned and closed his eyes, to better focus. His hand slipped from hers, to hang by his side. When his moon-time aggression had first started to truly affect his behaviour, he’d tried meditation; it hadn’t worked for that, but it had helped him control his re-tuned senses. Breathing deeply, he quickly centred himself and focused on his hearing. It only took a few seconds to confirm his suspicions.
“People re-arranging themselves? Talking in whispers - the restoration rooms! Alex, we need to hurry!”
Opening his eyes, Justin was about to race off when she tugged on his arm.
“Shoes! Don’t let them know we’re coming.”
Justin nodded and quickly slipped off his dress shoes. Alex was fumbling with tiny buckles and jerked her head towards the door. “Go! But don’t do anything until I’m there to cover your ass! Run!”
Justin nodded and raced out the door.
Alex spent several more precious moment trying to undo the buckles that adorned the slim straps which kept the stilettos attached to her feet.
This was why she never wore high heels!
Swearing under her breath, she reached for a charm on her bracelet. It came away from the chain with a quick pull, and she activated it by pressing it hard between her fingertips. The bottle-opener unfolded between her fingers - Justin must have actually been listening when she told him about that job in Oklahoma with the tornado - and Alex grimly sawed through the thin leather straps. Squeezing the bottle-opener to return it to the charm shape, she manoeuvred the hook at the end into the original link in the chain, and the hook became a loop again, re-attaching the charm to the bracelet.
Damn, she kept forgetting how incredibly fucking clever Justin was at inventing stuff.
By the time she’d found her way to the restoration room, Justin was crouched at the foot of the arch that led to the main corridor. Alex crouched beside him, a shoe in each hand. Those damn heels had to be good for something besides giving her blisters - they were solid and sharp, she could do some damage with them if necessary.
Justin nodded to the display directly across from them and just on the other side of the archway. It was a free-standing suit of armour, and looked like it had been made for the Hulk. Polished mirror-bright, the breastplate clearly showed four black-clad people grouped outside the door to the restoration room complex, huddled around a map. The sole woman - obviously the leader - was pointing to the map, then at one of the crew, then back to the map again.
Alex grinned narrowly. Confirming assignments. Even if they had been dressed to blend in at the party, instead of completely in black - honestly, how cliché could you get? - she would still have identified them as a crew of thieves in a second.
Who better to know, after all?
“You all know your assignments. Keep chatter to a minimum; no one’s supposed to be up here, but no point taking chances. If you’re on a downstairs target, don’t say a damn word while you’re there - if a drunken guest stumbles across us looking for a place to piss, things are going to head south fast. Remember, this is a no-kill job.” She seemed to be looking directly at the man with the tell-tale silhouette of a serious body-builder.
“Better bring the A-game, guys!” the tallest one said mockingly. “The all-seeing eye is upon us!”
The leader frowned, before taking back control of the conversation. “You all have an exit strategy, use it. No improvising. We’ll meet up by dawn back at the warehouse.”
The three men moved off swiftly and quietly, leaving the woman smiling smugly at the map. As their footsteps moved out of earshot, she turned her back to the two of them, rolling up the map, and Justin struck.
Leaping forward, he tackled her to the ground. Before she could make a sound, he grabbed her short brown hair and used his grip to savagely smash her forehand into the floor.
Blinking a little at his ferocity - she truly hadn’t understood how personally he’d take this - Alex moved to join Justin as he climbed to his feet. “Well, I think she’s unconscious.”
To his credit, Justin looked absolutely horrified at his actions. “Oh my God, what the hell did I do? I was just so mad they were stealing from me - from the museum, I mean - and I just...”
Alex crouched down and rolled the woman onto her back. Assessing the already-forming lump on the woman’s forehead, she used her body to keep Justin from seeing her check the thief’s pulse.
Getting to her feet, she told him matter-of-factly, “She’ll be fine. What do we do with her now?”
Justin bit his lip, still looking troubled, but Alex’s calm manner had him thinking straight again.
“We need to call the wardens. The director’s office? ”
Alex shrugged, “Sounds good to me. You can carry this one,” she added, nudging the unconscious woman with her foot.
“What do we do after that?” Justin asked. “Go back to the party and alert security as well?”
“Yeah, but wouldn’t that make the other guests panic?” Alex frowned, as a sudden memory hit her. “Justin? Remember a few weeks ago, when you came to visit me in my old apartment?”
“Hmmm. You were in a strange kind of mood, because you’d turned down a job offer - wait a minute, wasn’t it for here? That’s why you turned it down.”
Alex nodded grimly. “I didn’t get all the details in the initial approach, but it was for several items in this museum... and it had to happen while this exhibit was showing. I turned it down - but I’m pretty sure that this crew is now performing the very same job.”
“What?” Justin exclaimed. He looked down at the unconscious woman at his feet. His expression darkened, his voice lowered to a rumbling growl as he suggest, “Why don’t we wake her up and ask?”
Not in the least disturbed by this uncharacteristic behaviour, Alex shook her head. “It won’t do any good, Justin. The one who wants the items isn’t going to take the risks themselves, or why hire this bunch?”
“Hire? They’re not just working for themselves?”
Alex shook her head. "No, Justin - a solo thief can only pull fairly simple jobs, logistically speaking.”
Justin raised his eyebrows, “I seem to recall you work solo.”
Alex sighed impatiently. “I pull the jobs themselves alone, yeah. But before and after? I have at least half a dozen people I work with to get information, and to steer jobs my way. Before I built up enough of a reputation to work just on consignment, I had others to help me fence the stuff as well.”
His face lit up with an ‘a-ha!’ look. “You mean, like your old classmate Hugh? And your mortal friend Harper?”
Alex tossed him a grin. “They’re my best friends. Any professional associations are strictly a matter of ‘no comment’. Back to the point - I nearly always have only one target at a time. A crew doesn't assemble just because they feel like it. For a job with a full crew, you need to have…"
"Impetus?" Justin suggested.
"Mmmm, good word. They always have a specific target in mind, because the backer always wants something in particular. They don’t always get paid in money - I heard a story from one of my mortal world contacts; remember when ‘Angel returning to Heaven’ was stolen from the Henley in London?"
"Only time it's ever been robbed," Justin remembered.
Alex nodded. "The crew was being blackmailed by a mobster - although that's not nearly good enough to describe just how shitscary the guy was - to get a particular piece or he'd kill the leader's father."
She sighed. "The point being, a job this big always has someone pulling the strings behind the scenes."
"We need to figure out who that is," Justin replied grimly, "Or my collection's never going to be safe."
Alex bit her lip as she mused aloud. “Well, it’s generally easy to control a single individual. But it’s much harder with a group; the Henley crew were all related or might as well have been. The group we just saw didn’t give off the vibe of a real crew - their interaction is usually... well, smoother... and they don’t need to go over anything on site. I think it was assembled especially for this job - Hell, every member has individual targets and exit strategies! For group jobs, management usually needs to be a little more hands-on. It has to be. Honour among thieves does have its limits, y’know?”
Justin's eyes widened in realisation. "The backer's here, tonight. That's what that crack about the All-Seeing Eye meant - the thieves know that the person who commissioned them is right on the scene to witness their work!"
Alex frowned, as she was hit by a sudden and disturbing thought.
"What?" Justin asked warily.
"What are the chances that there are two people out there wanting something from your collection bad enough to commission a robbery?"
"Not much - even in the wizarding art world. Especially considering there's only a fraction of the collection here."
"The backer recruited a whole team to pull off what he wanted me to do alone? Either it's extremely cool, that my professional abilities are so highly thought of… or he knows that I might have an inside track."
"You think he knows who you really are - and that we're together?" Justin asked in alarm.
“If he knows who I am... I’m using my real name tonight! Justin, we need to stop these people now, and we need to do it ourselves.”
“What? Alex-”
“We need to find out what they know,” Alex hissed. “We need to find the backer, and find out what he knows. Any crew leader worth their money knows who really hired them, but they could be under some kind of memory or compulsion spell to keep them from talking. I’ll stop the thieves; you go back to the party and try to figure out who the puppet-master is.”
“Alex, you can’t stop these people on your own. Anyway, if this lot try to take any of my artefacts, they won’t be going anywhere.”
“And if they have the same kind of training I do? My skills are rare, Justin, but I’m not the only person of questionable legality to work in both worlds. It looks like they’ve split up to go after separate targets, so if they all have their own exit strategies at least one of them should get away clean. If we get the thieves in custody, the Wardens can get them to flip on their employer for immunity. If we expose the backer now, any accusations about me or us that he tosses out won’t be believed.”
Justin frowned. “I hate how much sense you’re making.”
“Besides,” Alex grinned wickedly, “I have a dozen weapons they don’t.”
She held up her left wrist at eye level, displaying the bracelet.
“Those spells aren’t weapons, Alex, they’re just little, useful things.”
“Frying pans aren’t meant to be weapons, either, but do you have any idea how easily you can use them to knock someone out cold? Trust me, Justin. I’m at my best when I’m improvising.”
Justin looked at the map he now clutched in his hand and grimaced. “At least you have an idea where they’re headed. But what about this one?” he asked, nodding towards the unconscious woman at their feet.
“I need to go back to the Director’s office to change my clothes - if we put her in the bathroom we could barricade the door?”
“What about the unicorn flax?” Justin suggested. “I wrapped it around the box for the mechanical pieces to make sure no one could wander by and mess things up.”
“I’ll need it for the others - petrifying or sleep spells won’t work here, remember.”
Alex hurried to the Director’s office - luckily, it was just down the hallway - while Justin heaved the unconscious woman over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and followed more slowly. By the time he made it to their destination, Alex was already sorting through the casual clothes they’d worn that day, while they assembled the special safeguards he’d designed for his own artefacts. Heading into the attached bathroom, he crouched down, and carefully rolled the woman off his shoulder and onto the tiled floor.
Turning, he stopped dead in the doorway. Despite the situation, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of Alex wriggling out of her evening dress.
“Hey, Justin? Where’s that map again?” Alex turned around, and grinned at the look on her lover’s face as he approached her.
Alex’s generally bohemian lifestyle meant that she didn’t actually have any formal wear, besides an obligatory little black dress, so she’d bought her outfit especially for tonight. She’d decided to be conservative with her dress, floor-length and sleeveless, with large-patterned black lace overlaid on scarlet satin. But what she wore underneath had been chosen solely for Justin.
“What, no stockings?” Justin casually asked.
“If you want to see me in a garter belt, you’re buying,” she told him. “Those things pinch. Besides, I don’t need anything but skin.”
Justin smirked. “You do have lovely skin.”
Alex smirked back. In her satin strapless bra - fashioned the same way as a bustier, only the bottom hem ended at the bottom of her ribs, rather than her hips - and miniscule matching panties, both the same scarlet as her dress, there was quite a lot of flawless tan skin on display.
Looking her up and down, Justin ran his right forefinger along the lace border that ran across the tops of her breasts. “Even without stockings, your lingerie is… exquisite,” he growled, his fingertip pulling down the cup just a little, until her rapidly hardening nipple threatened to pop into view.
“Down, boy,” Alex chuckled. “Your inner ravenous sex beast will have to wait until after we’ve saved the day.”
Justin shook himself all-over, like a dog - or a wolf - shaking itself dry. “You’re right. Damn, the moon-time’s edging up on me again. Why the hell did this have to happen tonight?”
“Murphy’s law,” shrugged Alex. “Hey, at least this happened when I had a change of clothes available. John McClane may have been able to run around the Nakatomi building in bare feet and undershirt, but I can’t hide in the shadows in my underwear and heels.”
While Justin rolled out the map onto the table, Alex hopped into her black leggings. Her miniskirt was pale blue denim, so that was out. She’d move better without it, anyway. Her canary yellow T-shirt was even worse. She picked up the length of unicorn flax, and carefully wound it around her midriff. Unicorn flax was the most magically potent physical binding there is, and this particular lot was freely given, which made it even stronger. Grabbing Justin’s Tears of Blood tour T-shirt, she moved beside him to look at the map.
“Are you shitting me?” she asked incredulously.
Justin didn’t answer, too busy inspecting the map. Several locations were circled, and he was familiar enough with the layout of the upstairs exhibits to recognise the pieces. Not only was the museum one of his favourite places, all of these particular items had at least one thing in common...
“I thought this was a last-minute reminder of the few places they could use magic! A marked map of the targets? Seriously? Every member of the crew should know the museum layout and the placement of their assigned items long before they head into play. How amateur hour can you get?" she ranted.
Justin rolled his eyes. "You can give them a point by point critique later, Alex. At least this way we know we're they're headed."
"Yeah, I know that this is a huge piece of luck for us, but still -"
"Maybe the crew got thrown together at the last minute!" Justin snarled. "Focus here, Alex. All the things marked on the map? Are from the Russo collection! This is personal, and I want these guys taken down with extreme prejudice!"
Alex raised her eyebrows at his tone of voice, and Justin took a deep, calming breath. Damn territorial instincts. "The point is, is that now you can take them down.” He pointed at one of the circles on the map. “I figure that they’ll have to start on this floor, with whoever’s going after the items on the floor below us working their way down. The mummy case is in a protective enclosure, so whoever's on it needs to hack the spell lock and load it up for transport. That'll take awhile, so you have time to take out the other two."
"Yeah, but their job's simple. What if they're gone or down to the main floor before I get there?" Alex asked. Turning the T-shirt inside out to hide the blood red and silver logo on the front, she swiftly tugged the garment over her head. Justin was tall enough that on her it fell to mid-thigh, which wasn’t very different from what she wore casually around the house. She needed to steal more of his T-shirts in the future.
Justin shook his head, and drew his finger in a line along the map. "They can’t reach this exhibit from the back of the building, only from the main gallery. That runs directly in line with the head of the stairs - and there’s a guard there. They’ll need to move slow and quiet."
"But so do I,” she pointed out, crouching down to tie her sneakers. “I can't let them know I'm coming, either!"
Justin smirked. "They don't have the entrances to the attic marked on this map; I'm guessing they don't know where they are. They can't get into them, either - there's only two keys; one for the Head of Maintenance, the other for the Director. And we just happen to be in the Director's office." Justin reached into the left-hand desk drawer, and pulled out a set of keys. He handed them to Alex, still smirking. "The attic is actually a storage level - it's almost completely clear, partly because it's too hard to get to and partly it’s too humid to be used to store spare items; the spell-dampening fields can’t be countered. It's only five and a half feet tall, but the ceiling’s so thick it’s almost soundproof, so you can run as fast as you need to without worrying about noise. There's a trapdoor one room over from where they'll be. You'll need to sneak the last bit, but that's all. But once you're out, the ceilings are too high for you to get back in - you'll need to sneak through to the second guy on your own."
“Let’s go,” Alex nodded sharply, before heading out into the corridor.
As luck would have it, an access point to the attic was only a short distance away.
“We can’t keep this under wraps for long - especially since there’s no guarantee I can actually stop them all. Remember the blonde I came back from the bathroom with?” At Justin’s nod, she continued, “Her name’s Beth, and her brother’s head of security. Tell him to call Oz; it’ll give me some time to work, and I think Oz’ll help me if something incriminating against me does come out.”
Justin looked up at the ceiling, where you couldn’t see the trapdoor unless you were looking at it, then back at Alex. Reaching out abruptly, he pulled her close, holding her tightly. "Alex, just remember, okay? Nothing in here is worth your well-being. Don’t take any risks you don't have to." Time was ticking by, so he contented himself with a swift kiss, instead of the deep, drowning one he wanted. "I love you."
"Right back atcha," Alex told him, her smile glowing.
"Sure you don't need the map?"
"Justin, please. I am a professional. I know exactly where I'm going in this place, and how to get there. Keep it as evidence for the wardens."
Justin handed her the keys, then bent his knees slightly and made a stirrup out of his hands. Alex placed one sneaker in his linked hands, placing her hands on his shoulders for balance. Justin pushed up and she straightened, reaching the ceiling. It took only a moment's work to unlock the access trapdoor with the key, and only a few moments more to grab the edge of the opening and pull herself up and through - she did this sort of thing for a living, after all. She activated the empty pocket on her bracelet, and dropped the keys in - never knew when or where they’d come in handy - and blew him a kiss for luck as she closed the trapdoor.
Standing, she promptly bumped her head. Alex was five and a half feet tall, and apparently so was the ceiling. Bending over just a little, she looked around to get her bearings.
Justin had been right about this place being almost open - there were a few scattered pieces of office furniture, all showing signs of much wear, but there were no walls to impede her progress. Alex grinned, and took off in a run.
She had another piece of luck, right before she reached the trapdoor she wanted. Someone had shoved some left-over cleaning supplies up here and forgotten them - including a mop. Bracing herself - there was no guarantee this would work - Alex took the mop handle in both hands and broke it over her knee. To her delight, it snapped just where she wanted. She repeated the process, and she now had a pair of two and a half foot long fighting sticks, almost the same as the ones she practised with three times a week.
Who would have thought she’d actually be grateful to Justin for subjecting her to that Stargate: Atlantis marathon?
Moving quietly now, Alex pried up the trapdoor. Bending over, she poked her head through for a quick look around. Listening intently, she couldn’t hear anything.
Alex lifted up her T-shirt, and unwound the coil of unicorn flax from around her midriff. Tying it around the two sticks in a neat bundle, she lowered it to the floor, and dropped her end, letting the rope land noiselessly in a heap.
Alex then gripped hold of the edge of the manhole, and tipped herself through it head-first. Her arms arrested her momentum, letting her whole body unfurl in a smooth, controlled movement, leaving her hanging suspended by her hands for a split second before she dropped to the floor, automatically bending her knees as she landed. Taking another swift look around to orient herself, Alex gathered her sticks and rope and swiftly crept down the hallway.
Crouching down, she poked her head around the doorway, and her breath caught. She’d made it just in time. From here, there were several rooms with doorways precisely in line, so she could see through the Hall of Magic Mirrors and the Grimoire room, right through to the artefacts of Ancient Greece display. The two men - the body-builder and the tall one who’d made the crack about the all-seeing eye - were already sliding the Sceptre of Circe into a soft cotton bag.
Peering down the corridor, she bit back a groan of exasperation - the security guard at the head of the main staircase was gone. Just her luck, her only possible backup was in the bathroom. On the other hand, if these two did have some idea who she really was, at least there was no one to hear any tales they might want to tell.
Alex’s eyes narrowed in thought. There was no window in that room, and the three rooms didn’t connect to any others; they only led into each other straight to the main hallway. Regardless of what their exit strategy was, they still needed to come past her.
But what good would that do? Yes, she’d worked hard at her combat lessons and come a long way in three months, but there was no way she could handle herself one on one against a trained combatant. The only way that she could overcome anyone was to take them by surprise. But being sneaky, winning by cheating?
“At least I’m playing to my strengths,” she murmured inaudibly.
Looking down at her bracelet, she grinned. She carefully tugged off a charm shaped like the lantern of a Victorian era lamp-post, and thumbed the tiny button to dial it to full strength, before she lightly tossed it into the centre of the room beyond. There were no standing displays in the Hall of Mirrors, (although it was actually just a square room) only dozens of mirrors lining the walls, and even the ceiling.
Leaving the unicorn flax in a heap behind her against the wall, Alex carefully stood and made sure she had a secure grip on her sticks.
Alex bit her lip. She had to time this just right.
The two men entered the Hall of Mirrors, each of them carrying a black cotton bag.
One step, two...
As they reached the centre, Alex closed her eyes.
“Let there be light,” she muttered under her breath, triggering the light-spell.
In a room literally covered in mirrors, the light was not only everywhere but blinding in its’ brightness, and the two men cried out, dropping the bags to instinctively cover their eyes
Alex ran into the room full-pelt, her sticks ready to strike. She went for the smaller first, deliberately dropping to the floor and sliding on her knees. Her left stick whacked into the back of his knees, sending him to the floor, where her right stick hit him in the throat. While he choked, she hammered both sticks together down on his head.
A loud snarl was her only warning, and Alex twisted to see the body builder a few feet away and heading straight for her. The murderous look in his eyes sort of hinted that maybe she should have taken him out first. Still on the floor, Alex desperately kicked out - and landed both feet in his crotch.
The man gave a high-pitched scream, and fell to his knees, both hands clutching his junk. Alex scrambled to her feet and shifted her sticks to her right hand, before slamming them backhanded into his head. When he hit the ground, she did it a couple more times. She’d seen enough horror movies to know one hit was never enough. She moved to her original opponent, and hit him again for good measure.
Retrieving the unicorn flax, she grasped the rope with both hands, twisting and pulling simultaneously to separate it into several shorter lengths. Rolling both men onto their stomachs, she bound their hands behind their backs, and their ankles together.
Alex spent a lot of time dangling off buildings by her fingertips, and she was a lot stronger than she looked. But dragging the dead-weight of these two was something else. Luckily, Justin’s present had something to help her here, too.
Pulling off the charm shaped like a cloud, Alex pressed it to both the trussed-up bodies. Hooking her hands through the bonds around their ankles, the ‘lighten the load’ spell let her drag them both out into the hall and down to the storage closet. Activating the pocket on the charm bracelet, she used the Director’s keys to open the closet. There wasn’t much room, so she had to carefully stand them both upright.
Stepping back, Alex was about to close the door when the hallway light caught something on the blonde thief’s chest. Stepping forward, she cast a cautious eye over the two bodies, before she leaned close. The thief was wearing something around his neck on a chain, which had slipped out as she dragged them to the hall. Alex picked up the pendant and inspected it closely, and her eyes widened in recognition.
It was a watch-fob like the one on Justin’s pocket-watch, that she’d seen only a couple of hours ago. Exactly like... except....
Alex inhaled sharply, and her hands flashed to the second thief’s neck, pulling out another chain with an identical watch-fob. No professional wore something this distinctive and easily identifiable on a job.
Hastily locking the door, she stashed the keys again, before she reached for the charm on her bracelet that was shaped like an old-fashioned telephone. She didn’t know what the hell this meant, but she knew that Justin needed to know about it.