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“That is genius, Finni.”
“Well, I am a genius.”
I pull out my phone and open my chat with Alexios.
KNOX: Hey, man. Do you still have the iron bracelet?
ALEXIOS: Yes. I’ll have it ready for tomorrow.
KNOX: Thanks.
I slide my phone away and finish my tart with a grin, because Finnian is right.
And finally, after a freaking miserable week, I have a plan.
— ¤ —
I grab the iron bracelet from the glove compartment, slide it into my pocket, and climb out of my pickup.
The venue is a sketchy brick building with a couple of dark windows and a shitty sign reading ‘Art Studio Doberet.’
I double-check the address Leo gave me…
Yeah, it matches.
What the fuck is that little Prince doing in a place like this?
I walk inside, and to absolutely no one’s surprise, there isn’t a reception desk or a single soul around to ask for directions.
I start checking the rooms down the hall.
In one of the rooms, people are sculpting clay; in another, they’re doing some weird-ass interpretive dance; and in a third, a bunch of adults are just lying on the floor, holding hands.
Okay…
“Excuse me,” I call out to the first human I see walking in the hallway.
She stops, tilting her head. “Yes?”
“Any idea where I can find a guy named Cillian?”
“He’s in the Hummingbird Room,” she says, and my immediate frown must betray me, because she smiles and points down the left corridor. “Last door on the right. The green one.”
“Thanks.”
I head down the hall, find the green door, and peek inside.
It’s a painting class.
A model is sitting on a stool in the center of the room. He is holding a ukulele while a dozen students sketch him using different types of paint and styles.
I notice everyone is painting the model except for Cillian.
His back is turned to the rest of the class, completely absorbed in his own canvas. He’s working on a man’s portrait, the face blurred by shadow against a background of deep oranges and blacks.
The painting is hauntingly beautiful.
I push the door open and step inside. “Everybody, please clear the room.”
