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With the painting secured and our illusions set, we were ready to go. I decided to drive, considering that a big blue ice dragon wouldn’t be the most conspicuous way to arrive at the Center. It took us longer than we had planned as we pushed our way through stop-and-go traffic on the freeway. It gave us time to go over what we had planned. It was Caleb who realized something as we pulled into a parking spot.

“Shit,” he said. “We don’t have an escape plan.”

Damn it. He was right. “Can’t we just use whatever gateway that links the Center with the theatre?”

“What if it gets blocked off?”

“It won’t,” I said. “You’re with a dragon. I’ll fight my way through however many cultists it takes to get us out of there alive.”

Caleb swallowed, his illusion still holding up. It was trippy, looking over and seeing someone completely different. Even his voice had changed, although his mannerisms still remained pretty much the same. “Okay,” Caleb said. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Wait.” I leaned in and puckered my lips. “Can I get a kiss?”

He smiled, and the crooked-nosed man sitting next to me gave me what I asked for.

With that, we were ready. We got out of the car. Caleb patted his pocket, where the small satchel was holding the painting. I had parked on the street next to the Center, so we walked onto Hollywood Boulevard and toward the building. I wasn’t typically a nervous guy, but I could feel my nerves start to rise with every step. Could this be a mistake? Were we walking directly into the lion’s den?

Amelia had been able to lie and fool me for who knows how long, and that was someone who had been in my inner circle. The Crimson Ring had proven that they were consistently one step ahead, so what if this was another of those situations?

“Caleb, wait.” I stopped us just feet away from the main entrance, where a sign advertised a free movie and dinner for people who wanted to come inside. “Maybe I should do this on my own. You’ve set up the illusion; let me go in and destroy the paintings.”

Caleb didn’t even take a moment to consider my offer. “Absolutely the fuck not.”

“I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“And I don’t want you getting hurt. So where does that leave us?”

I rubbed the back of my neck. Shit. “Alright, come on. But promise me that if there’s any sign that things are going south, you’ll run. Okay? Don’t stay and fight with me.”

“Fine, I promise.”

The Center of Betterment was busier than the other day. There was a group of protestors outside, but none of them appeared to have any of those rocket-like fireworks that had disrupted us the last time we were here. We walked into the lobby and weren’t surprised to see Macy sitting behind the front desk, wearing her all-black suit and smiling pleasantly at us as we approached.

Good. She didn’t recognize us.

“Hey, Ricky. Hey, Mason.”

Oh shit. She did recognize us.

“Hey, Macy,” Caleb answered, knocking on the glass desk. “We’re just heading to the Ruby Room. Want to do some meditation.”

Macy cocked her head and scrunched her thin eyebrows together. “Oh, I thought you both were aware the Ruby Room is currently closed. Even to Center members.”

Fuck. We hadn’t planned for this. Were we already screwed before we even started?

“Oh, really?” Caleb asked. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and dropped his gaze, suddenly looking like the saddest little puppy in the world, even though he resembled a messy man in his mid-forties. “Damn it. Macy, I really needed that room today.” The protestors outside were shouting, but a large speaker behind Macy played music loud enough to drown them out.

“I understand, but it’s an order from the higher-ups. No one is allowed in the Ruby Room. I’m sorry.” She offered a genuinely apologetic smile. “You can still use all the other rooms in the Center. Why not the library?”

I decided to jump into the fray. “Even if we go in for just a couple of minutes?” We had to apply the pressure. It was likely locked down because of the paintings being held in the Glass Auditorium, which meant it was vital for us to get through.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t allow anyone inside.” She looked between us, out at the street, where the protestors appeared to be getting louder. Her eyes narrowed. She reached for the phone, her jacket sleeve pulling back to reveal a swirl of red and black tattoos.

“That’s okay,” Caleb said.

What? No, it absolutely wasn’t okay. We were already failing. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fu?—

A loud pop, followed by shouting, drew all our attention. The protesters were now moving away from the entrance to the building. On the floor was a box full of fireworks, with a long, almost comical, fuse that was lit and burning toward the box.

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