A strobe of light illuminates the low clouds overhead a heartbeat before a loud crack sets car alarms blaring and babies crying.
This time I really jump but manage to force my gaze to remain straight ahead.
“Scared of a little lightning, Lyra?” Chance, a master thief to my left, chides. He’s acting as the drop point for all the lifts tonight but takes his attention off his job long enough to toss me a condescending smile. Asshole.
One of the older thieves in our den, he should have paid off his debt by now but hasn’t—and the fact I’m our den’s clerk and know exactly how much he still has to go pisses him off. It also makes me his favorite target.
But the best way to deal with his brand of dickhead is to ignore him.
So instead, I focus on the unsuspecting, sycophantic multitudes as more and more crush together at the base of the temple, filling the winding street that circles up the mountain to it. They’re all here to get the best view of the opening ceremonies of the Crucible at midnight. The opportunity was too good for Felix to pass up—perfect for a rash of pickpocketing. Stealing so close to a sacred building is a big risk, but our boss reasoned away hazarding the gods’ wrath by saying this is both a test for the newest crop of pledges and a chance to rake in one last score before the ceremonies begin.
He is going to get someone killed. Or worse…
Which I guess is why Felix has a lowly clerk, in particular me, up here babysitting tonight. Given the added danger, he needed someone to keep an eye on things who would, and I quote, avoid letting anyone anger the gods at all costs, end quote.
And he’s right. I wouldn’t wish the gods’ ire on my worst enemy. Even Chance.
As my old mentor, Felix knows that. In fact, he’s the only one who knows exactly why.
A small throng of revelers wearing Zeus-themed sweatshirts rushes past me to get higher up the hillside, and a few shoulder check me to the left, then right as they muscle their way through the crowd. I deftly use the opportunity to shuffle several feet away from Chance. He really is my least-favorite person. I’ll still keep an eye on him in case he gets in danger of upsetting a god, but I can do that from a distance just as easily.
When I glance back at him, I let out a sigh. He’s no longer sneering at me and has turned his attention to his job again.
A young pledge with soft brown curls weaves her way up to Chance and brushes against the sleeve of his overcoat, tossing out a quick “excuse me” before scooting by him. Even though it’s summer, it’s chilly enough that no one looks twice at the master thief’s clothing choice, which is good. He needs lots of pockets.
I didn’t even see the drop, and I was looking closely for it. I’d always hoped one day to become a thief myself, but sadly, I lack one important skill—subtlety.
Without a backward glance, the pledge melts into the crowd, no one around us the wiser. Chance slips his hand into a pocket, then frowns. It takes fishing in two more pockets before he discovers the loot. Which means even he didn’t feel the handover.
The new pledge is good. Then again, her mentor is the best of us.
For a second, I indulge in picturing what it would be like to be out there with her as one of the thieves, rather than back here watching it happen. But that’s not my lot in life. I’ve made my peace with it. At least I’ve made it this far without starving, ending up in the gutters, getting myself murdered…or worse.
I do all right.
I even have my own stash of coin tucked away in a place where no one will ever find it. Cold cash, not some numbers on a screen. One day, I might just give up this life, and I’ll have the means to do it.
You’ll be even more alone, though, a tiny, doubt-laden voice whispers inside me.
I shift on my feet. Yeah, well…maybe I’ll get a cat. Or, no. A dog.
No one can be lonely with a dog, right?
I glance toward the iconic Golden Gate Bridge, with its brilliant white Corinthian columns, matching the temple and supported by massive suspension lines. At midnight, they’ll close the road to traffic and allow the people piling in to cover it. The bridge stretches from the Minos Headlands where the temple sits across the mouth of the bay to the dazzling city on the other side. The twinkling lights beckon while the bay itself is black as night, the darkness broken only by the lights of ships floating by.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the younger pledges home in on an elderly couple. They’re walking hand in hand, obviously in love, and I can’t help the tightening in my chest. The woman is struggling to keep up, walking with a cane, and the gentleman shuffles his feet beside her, making each step take twice as long so he matches her pace. She looks up and smiles at him for the gesture, and I know the last thing they need to ruin their night is to realize light fingers have taken a wallet or watch.
Before the young thief gets too close, I whistle a signal all pledges know means to stop.
So much for just being here to observe and record. Hopefully Felix doesn’t find out and punish me for overstepping.
She pauses, looks around, and then her face lights up a little and she waves an eager hand. Not at me. At someone behind me.
“Hey, Boone!” the pledge calls. She must think he’s the one who whistled.
I force myself to not immediately turn and look.
Boone’s is the one face I search for every day, but that’s my business. After making a note on the tablet to talk to the girl about not drawing attention while on a job, I let myself peer around and see him off to the left.
Boone Runar.
Master thief. Every person’s fantasy and every parent’s nightmare.
And there’s nothing I can do to stop my heart from clumsily tripping over itself at the sight of him. Especially when he grins at the apprentice, kneeling down to her level and saying something that makes her laugh before they both turn serious. He’s probably reminding her about drawing attention.
I lower my tablet and take the opportunity to enjoy the view.
Well over six feet of muscle, brute strength, and a fuck-with-me-and-find-out air thanks to, again, the muscles and the recent addition of a scruffy brown beard a shade darker than his hair. Then there’s the way he dresses like a biker. Lots of jeans and leather. The vibes he gives off aren’t a lie, either. He can handle himself.
To look at him, you’d think he’d be a total dick twenty-four seven. Many of the master thieves, like Chance, are. It’s a defense mechanism. Survival tactic. But not Boone. It’s the way he is with the apprentices, a patient guide, that I like the most.
After a second, he sends the apprentice on her way. When he rises to his feet, he searches the area, and my stomach tightens in anticipation. Not that he’s looking for me. No doubt he’s either trying to find his own apprentice—the first girl who already made her drop—or one of the other master thieves.
Despite the fact that he looks right in my direction, Boone’s gaze sweeps over where I am. Twice.
Then he leaves.
I blow out a long, slow breath and watch as he makes his way back through the crowds until I can’t see him and wish, for the billionth time, my mother’s water hadn’t broken in Zeus’ temple the day I was born.
