Ravin grinned, “Oh yes. Never miss an opportunity to get in costume. But I’ll take care of all of that.” Ravin took another sip, “And if all things go well, Izaius will give us the tour himself. Once I get him a little…tied up, the two of you will have enough time to snag the painting, and ferry it out before Izaius has time to put his pants back on.” Ravin chuckled, deciding there was no longer a need to tiptoe around the facts of the situation.

Ravin raised an eyebrow. It was rare to find this kind of candor. People in his particular realm played things pretty close to the chest, and Kasper’s transparency was refreshing. Ravin tucked the fact away for later as another reason getting in league with the Van Zants had been an unexpected blessing.

“Rene…” Ravin said, musing, “the name isn’t familiar, though that doesn’t mean I haven’t done something to piss him off.” Ravin winked, finishing his whiskey. “I’ll meet with him. Somewhere on neutral ground, though I wouldn’t mind in the least if some Van Zants just happened to be loitering nearby in case things went south.”

Ravin chuckled, “I’ll send word out to Izaius and be in touch. But sooner is always better than later. Better to strike while the iron’s hot.” Ravin down the rest of his drink, then stood, spitting into his hand and holding it out. “To Rasper.”