“I wasn’t coked up. I was pleasantly focused. You going to give me a turn, or do I have to get on the roof with a magnifying glass?”

“Relax. You’ll get your turn. I’m just trying to get the settings right.”

“For what?”

“Here. Take a look.”

She handed the binoculars to Coop and when he put them to his eyes, Babylon’s mansion lit up like high noon. The buildings were a wild combination of pink, gold, and robin’s-egg blue, crisscrossed by bright beams of laserlike light. Coop lowered the binoculars and stared at the mansion. No funny colors. No harsh light beams. “You sure you have these things set right? The place looks like a My Little Pony rave.”

Giselle took the binoculars back and said, “They’re just fine. The funny colors and light beams are all the enchantments and wards Babylon has protecting the place.”

“Let me see those again,” said Coop. He put the binoculars to his eyes, carefully studying the exterior of the building. “The whole place is covered. There isn’t one clear spot anywhere.”

Giselle nodded. “It’s going to be hard to get into.”

“No. The White House is hard to get into. This is impossible. Unless Babylon is nuts and left a barn door open around back, this heist is over.”

Giselle took the binoculars back. “Come on, Coop. Don’t be so negative. It’s the fuddy-duddy part of you talking again.”

“It’s isn’t the fuddy-duddy part. It’s the alive part. Even if I can walk through the killing curses, some of those lights are going to trip regular traps. Guns. Blades. Dragons. Dragons with guns and blades. Count me out of that.”

Giselle turned to him. “Salzman wasn’t kidding. He’ll send you back to jail.”

“At least I’ll be a live con. This town has been trying to kill me ever since I got back. This job he wants me to do is going to be the one that nails the coffin shut.”

Giselle set the binoculars in her lap. “And here I thought for a minute there was hope for you. You were brave for two seconds back at Jinx Town. Why can’t you do that now?”

“I think your problem is that you’re confusing brave with stupid.”

“No—I still think you’re stupid.”

“Look, getting shot was a calculated risk. This,” he said, pointing to the mansion, “is suicide.”

Giselle pushed the lenses back into place and put the binoculars into the glove compartment. “And here I was considering kissing you later. You blew that, and you’re going to go back to jail. This just isn’t your night.”

“Wait. What did you just say?”

“About what?”

“Kissing me.”

She pursed and unpursed her lips. “I can’t remember.”