Heist Society by Ally Carter

Author:Ally Carter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction - Young Adult
Publisher: Disney Publishing Worldwide

The first thing Kat did, of course, was kick herself. She should have been expecting this. She should have heard them coming. But the alarms had been too loud and the earplugs too effective, and her mind had been too distracted by the serious work she had to do, and so Kat’s guard was down that day. But she wasn’t going to let Arturo Taccone know it.

He smiled frostily at her from the other side of the limo’s backseat, and despite everything, she was almost glad for the warmth of the goonlike bodies on either side of her.

“Your efforts are entertaining, Katarina,” he said with a slight laugh. “Ineffective, but entertaining.”

Kat thought back to the sight of her cousin slumping to the cold floor of the gallery while the Henley’s state-of-the-art defenses were put to the test by a sixteen-year-old girl. And her legs.

“I told you I wasn’t the right person for the job,” Kat said. “Now, there’s a Japanese crew that comes highly recommended. I could get you a name and number if you’re interested.”

Taccone’s dismissive wave made Kat realize that he was enjoying this. She thought of his hidden bunker, and she knew somehow that the joy he got from keeping things so beautiful and precious under lock and key was nothing compared to the thrill of following them across Europe. Paintings are just things, after all. What Arturo Taccone really loved was the chase.

“So tell me, Katarina”—he jerked his head in the direction of the grand old building that was disappearing in the distance—“what are you going to steal? Da Vinci’s Angel, perhaps? I would pay handsomely to add that to my collection, you know.”

“I’m not a thief,” Kat said. He looked at her. “Anymore,” she added. “I’m not a thief anymore.”

Taccone didn’t try to hide the amusement in his eyes. “And yet here you are.”

“I’m here to get your paintings, Signor Taccone, so technically I’m re-stealing.” Again, Hale’s voice echoed in her head. “Re-stealing is more like a double negative.”

“You think your father has hidden my paintings inside the Henley?” Taccone scoffed, a cruel guttural sound. “And exactly why would he do that?”

“Not my dad,” she said. “Remember?”

“Oh, Katarina,” he said with a sigh. “If not your father, then who?”

She thought for a moment about Visily Romani—about a legend, a ghost. But he wasn’t a ghost, not really. Somewhere in the world there was a man—a very real man—with blood and bones and the necessary knowledge to break into the most secure museum in the world, and to use that particular name to do it.

So somewhere, yes, there was a man. And his name was not Visily Romani. But somehow Kat doubted that Arturo Taccone would understand.

“I did find them, Signor Taccone,” Kat said, scooting closer, sitting up. “I can tell you where they are, and then I guess you won’t need me anymore. After all”—she gestured behind them—“as you saw, my friends and I are not really suited for an opportunity of this magnitude.”

“Ah, but Katarina, I think you’re suited quite nicely.

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