(Mars POV)
“Master, it would seem the girl has gained the last piece of the machine. I have everything in place to go after the paintings as well. I only await your command.”
Finally, some good news. I looked up from the wh*re I had bent over my desk, not even bothering to unsheath myself from her as I looked at the wizard before me. “You’re sure about this? We can't f*cking afford to make even a single mistake, Jamal.”
He inclined his head, his thick New Orleans accent not quite as dignified as he thought. The large African-American man held himself with dignity and with an air of nobility, as though the common people were well beneath him. And I suppose they were seeing as the man’s been alive for nearly five hundred years. An uncommonly long life-span for a witch or wizard.
But then
