The offsite storage facility sat at the edge of the city like something trying not to be noticed.
It wasn't a museum.
It wasn't even labeled.
From the outside, the building looked like an anonymous concrete warehouse surrounded by chain-link fencing and dim sodium security lights. Trucks moved slowly through loading bays, and a quiet line of security cameras tracked every corner of the perimeter.
But inside, the building held some of the most valuable --and dangerous --art Artemis had ever collected.
Galathea Brooks stepped out of the car before the engine had fully died.
Cold night air rushed against her face. Fortunately, Cael Alexander insisted she take one of his long coats from the closet before they left. Still, she shivered as the chill hit her ears.
Cael followed close behind, already pulling his jacket tighter against the wind.
"You're sure this is the one?" she asked.
"Yes." He nodded.
"How far ahead of us are they?" Galathea asked.
