"It's just unfortunate he was unable to keep the likes of you out."
Lucian chuckled softly, handed me a ticket, then grandly ushered me forward. "After you, my sweet."
"You can stick the politeness where the sun don't shine," I muttered, then handed the ticket to the collector at the main door and went in.
The next room was vast and had obviously once been the main mail sorting area. There were three rows of exhibits here and, at the rear, a sign stating there were more up the stairs. There were also about a dozen people wandering around and a guard for each of the aisles.
I scanned the room for security cameras and saw four—one on each corner. Between them and the glass covering the majority of the display tables, there was little chance of snatching the key inconspicuously—if it was here, that was.
I made my way to the first aisle and slowly walked through, lingering near each table for several seconds to see if I got any reaction to the items within. This aisle seemed to be a mix of pistols and swords, but none of them set off the internal radar. I walked on.
It was a slow process and one that was utterly nerve-racking. Not just because I needed the key, but because of the rising expectations of the man who followed so closely behind me. Of course, the growing sense that the shit was about to hit the fan didn't help all that much, either. By the time I reached the end of the last aisle, I was so wound up, I was shaking.
I flexed my fingers again, trying to relax. A hard thing to do, given the tension radiating through me and around me. Tension that was mine, Lucian's, and Azriel's, all combining to make a stomach-churning mix. How I was managing to not throw up was a miracle.
"There are more exhibits upstairs." Lucian wrapped his fingers around my upper arm and propelled me forward.
I wrenched my arm free, but bit back the anger and somehow managed to say, almost civilly, "I'm well aware of that. There's no need to manhandle."
He glanced at me, the amusement playing about his lips at odds with the cool distance in his eyes. "You and I both know that you are not averse to a little force now and again, no matter how much you might say otherwise. This morning's efforts are a case in point."
Which explained the bruises I couldn't remember getting. God, how had I ever been fooled by this man?
Because he hid behind magic and years of pretending to be what he never was, Azriel said.
You weren't fooled.
No, but then, there were other reasons for that. He paused. Be wary. The Raziq approach.