Gifted Thief (Highland Magic #1) (11 page)

‘Would you have listened?’

Maybe. Okay, probably not. In fact no, I wouldn’t have. The first ten years of my life ensured that the last person I’d listen to was a Sidhe.

‘Fine,’ I snapped. ‘I’ll do what you want. Release Taylor from his debt though and let Speck and Brochan go.’

‘That will happen when you’ve done what we require.’

My eyes flashed. ‘You don’t trust me.’

‘You’re a thief, Integrity. Why would I trust you?’

‘It’s not just my name. I’ve got more integrity in my little finger than the Sidhe will ever have. No matter who my father was.’

He shrugged. ‘We’ll have to agree to distrust each other then. We’ll go to the Clan lands, you’ll help us with the Foinse, then you can go back to your oh-so-wonderful criminal existence.’

I hated him. I really, really hated him. I stood up and, as he moved his head to watch me, his hair fell across his eyes. Damn it. I also still lusted after him. Awkward.

‘First,’ I said, as calmly as I could, ‘I need a shower and a change of clothes. Second, I need to tell Taylor what is going on. Once I have achieved both those things, I will come and meet you.’

‘I’m not letting you out of my sight.’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘you are. I will present myself at the Sidhe court this evening. Until then, you’ll have to wait.’

And, with that, I stalked out.

Taylor couldn’t stop shaking his head. ‘All this time? They’ve been watching you all this time? How could we not have known?’

‘I doubt they’ve been staking me out twenty-four hours a day. They probably just check on me from time to time.’

‘But this is ridiculous! I’m a professional, Tegs. I should know when someone is watching me.’

I walked over to him and held his head in my hands. ‘Stop jiggling your head around like that. It’s making me nauseous.’

‘Sorry. But to keep tabs like that… Do you think they were watching during the Scone job?’

I bit my lip. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. Whether they were watching or not, they didn’t do anything to stop us. They’ve always chosen to take a hands-off approach.’ I frowned. ‘Until now, of course.’

‘Do you think they’ll leave you alone? After you help them reach this Fonzie thing?’

‘Foinse,’ I corrected him absently. ‘And right now, I doubt it. I do this for them and then in a couple of years’ time there’ll be something else, then something else, then something else. I’ll never be free.’ I met his eyes. ‘I’m sorry. It turns out that all this mess is my fault.’

‘If I’d not gambled…’

‘Brochan and Speck would still have been rounded up. They’d still have found another way to get me to do what they want. Maybe it’s better that they’ve forced the issue. The failure of the magic is a big deal and I should help out. It’ll be disastrous for everyone if I don’t. Now I know they’re watching me, however, I’ll do a better job of disappearing once I’ve fixed their problem for them.’

His eyes scoured me. ‘You mean for good, don’t you?’

I gave a helpless shrug. ‘What choice is there?’

He ran his hands through his hair and I suddenly realised how old he looked. There were lines on his face and a pallor to his skin that went beyond grey hair.

‘What if…?’ He swallowed.

‘Yes?’ I prompted.

Taylor sighed. ‘You said that the reason they didn’t get rid of you when you were a kid was probably because they knew that they might need you for something like this. Once the Foinse is accessed, what if they decide that they don’t need you again?’

‘You mean they’ll kill me once I’ve helped them open it?’

He nodded, trouble written all across his face.

‘I’ve considered that,’ I told him truthfully. ‘I’m going to need several exit plans to ensure it doesn’t happen.’

‘Was what your father did really so bad that an entire Clan needed to be exterminated?’

It was a rhetorical question but I answered it anyway. ‘He was responsible for more than a thousand deaths. He exterminated Clan Adair himself. I’m not aware of more than that, though. I was a baby when it all went down and no one ever saw fit to tell me the salient details.’ I smiled, although my smile was tinged with sadness. ‘I was a nobody, remember?’

Taylor reached over and hugged me tight. ‘You’re not a nobody now.’

For a brief moment, I felt safe and secure but it was only temporary. I pulled away. ‘I have to get going. There’s a lot to do before I walk into the lions’ den.’ I met his eyes. ‘Why did the lion lose at poker?’

Taylor didn’t smile. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Because he was playing against a cheetah.’

His eyes crinkled. Relief ran through me. That was more like the Taylor I knew and loved.

‘Tegs, you’re not going to…’

‘I’m going to do whatever’s necessary to keep myself and my family safe,’ I said. ‘No matter what.’

*

Wearing a far more sensible, if boring, black ensemble, I strolled onto the pavement, whistling a merry tune. I glanced up one way and down another. Two Sidhe were sitting in a car directly opposite, and there was a shadow in an alcove about fifty feet away. I pursed my lips. I could handle three of them. This was my territory, after all – not theirs.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and ambled to my left. Keeping my pace measured and my steps short, I didn’t stop anywhere but neither did I rush. Losing a tail was a game of patience and wit more than anything else.

I nodded to a few familiar faces, murmuring greetings. I didn’t let anyone engage me in conversation but I needed my three followers to think I was relaxed and going about my business before handing myself over to them. That’s why I made a beeline for the post office.

It was pension day so even though it was already after midday, the place was busy with people waiting to collect their money. Pensions weren’t something that the Sidhe had to worry about, I thought sourly, as my gaze travelled the length of the waiting area. Everyone here was, unsurprisingly, Clan-less, from the short dwarf with wrinkles so deep you could probably hide coins in them to the stooped human in a headscarf.

Instead of joining the queue, I went to the side, pulled an envelope out of my pocket and scribbled out an address. I didn’t have a stamp but I didn’t really need one. I simply walked over to the gap marked ‘international mail’ and dropped it in. I made a brief show of looking round anxiously in case anyone had noticed me, then left again.

At the corner, as I waited for the lights to change, I used the glass front of a nearby shop to scan behind me. As I expected, one of my followers – all of whom were now helpfully on foot – peeled off and entered the post office, no doubt to try and retrieve my letter. The post office didn’t like people messing with their systems, even if those people were well-connected Sidhe, so it would take him some time to do it. One down. Two to go.

It was interesting to note that one of the remaining tails was Mr Dimples. I wondered whether he still had the Lia Saifire on him. There wasn’t any noticeable bulge in his pockets but you never knew. Whether he had it or not, there was another pleasing bulge in his trousers that I enjoyed. Handsome and well-endowed. Well, well, well.

The moment the green man appeared, I crossed over, maintaining my earlier speed. This time, however, I lengthened my strides so I covered more ground more quickly. They would be expecting me to keep the same pace and it would take them a minute or two to realise that I was pulling away. It was a simple trick, but a good one. It was also well-timed as there was a set of crossroads ahead.

I checked my watch. 12.28pm. Perfect. I kept to the side of the pavement so my shoulder was almost brushing against the tall buildings on my left. A minute and a half later, I was at the MacReedy building just as the glass doors opened to let the vast secretarial department sprint out for lunch.

I hunched down, taking my battered baseball cap from my jacket pocket –it was the very same cap that Taylor gave me all those years ago – and jammed it on my head, tucking my hair underneath. Then I pushed my way through the crowd, zipped round the corner and ran.

Del’s Coffee, a grubby dive of a place, was less than thirty feet away. I weaved my way in and out of the busy foot traffic and ducked inside. It might serve coffee that you’d be inclined to avoid if you didn’t want to end up juddering for the rest of the day on a serious caffeine high but, with two exits, the place was ideal for me.

I sped through, throwing out a quick wave to the eponymous Del, the one-horned Bonnacon who ran the place.

‘Hey, Integrity. Bit of a speed merchant today, ain’t ya?’

‘I only sell to friends,’ I threw over my shoulder as I opened the door opposite and continued. I ran into a nearby pawnshop to check on my pursuers. Running around on the streets like a crazy person would ensure they caught up with me again; hiding was far smarter.

‘You wanna buy something or not?’

I twisted round, spotting the shop owner behind the cage that protected him from his less savoury customers. He eyed me with a hard look that warned of trouble. His hand hovered somewhere beneath the counter. Either there was a gun or a panic button under there. Right now, I’d prefer the gun; I didn’t want to attract any undue attention. I weighed up my choices and made a decision.

‘Here,’ I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a five-pound note. ‘I’ll be out of your hair in less than two minutes.’

His frown deepened. I cursed under my breath and took out another one. ‘Will that do you?’

The owner didn’t answer; he merely turned and hobbled away. That was an expensive sodding two minutes. Rather than dwell on it, I turned round to get a decent line of sight on Del’s. It was just as well – I’d barely manoeuvred myself into position when Dimples burst out of the cafe, his head frantically turning from right to left. No prizes for guessing who he was looking for.

When the second tail didn’t appear, I grinned. They must have split up to better their chances of finding me.

I crouched down, still keeping an eye on Byron’s second-in-command. He couldn’t seem to make up his mind which way to go. There was a chance that he’d try the pawnshop but he had plenty of other avenues to consider. My luck was in. He went right, jogging away from both the pawnshop and me. Now all I had to was to get out.

I stretched up to the bell hanging from the door, yanked it off and tossed it away. I didn’t need it jangling; if Dimples heard it, he’d definitely turn around. Besides, ten quid for a dirty piece of junk like that? The shopkeeper was still getting a bargain.

If he heard what I’d done, he didn’t come back out to investigate. Smart move on his part, I decided. I didn’t fight but he didn’t know that.

I sneaked back out into the street, shivering as a gust of wind whipped my hat straight off my head.  I lunged for it but it was too late. It flew away, tumbling down the quiet back street like a ball of tumbleweed in one of those old Western films. The ones where there was about to be a terrible shoot out.

That hat was an important part of my history and I didn’t want to lose it. I gave a quick look to see if Dimples was still in play. His shoulders were slumped and he was trudging away, not turning round. I smiled smugly. He knew he’d lost me.

Staying light on my feet, I ran after him ‒ or rather I ran after my hat. I just managed to snag it before there was another gust of wind. Giving the cap an affectionate pat, I put it back on and double-checked Dimples. He was oblivious to what was going on behind him. I did a little jig, causing a scurrying rat to pause and blink at me. I shrugged at it. ‘You’re right,’ I whispered. ‘It’s time to go.’

I was just about to head off in the opposite direction when I noticed Dimples’ backpack. There wasn’t much of a bulge to it, which was probably why it hadn’t registered before. I gnawed my bottom lip. The bag didn’t fit with his tailored suit. It was a strange thing to carry unless… My smile grew wider. He still had the Lia Saifire with him.

In theory, snatching the jewel was now a waste of time. No matter what I did, Byron was going to hold me to my promise to open the Foinse. But it was a matter of professional pride; I wanted the arrogant playboy to know that he still wasn’t completely in control.

I licked my lips. This was not the clever thing to do but it would be fun.

I jogged forward on the balls of my feet. If I could get close enough, I could probably swipe it. There was one seriously nervy moment when Dimples looked round. I was saved by a collection of mouldy cardboard boxes outside a door; I threw myself behind them, my heart hammering. When there was no shout or sound of feet thundering in my direction, I peered up. Dimples was blithely continuing on his way. Excellent.

When I got closer, I slowed my pace. One stretch of my arm and I’d be able to reach the backpack. I matched Dimples step for step so he wouldn’t realise anyone was right behind him and eyed the bag. It was beyond ridiculous that the Lia Saifire would be in there. Firstly, taking it on a stake-out would be stupid. Secondly, leaving it in an unlocked backpack in this neighbourhood was dumber than surfing on Ben Nevis. There was no way the jewel was in there. I should have turned back round immediately and got on with what I was supposed to be doing. My fingers were itchy, however. I just couldn’t help myself.

Pickpocketing is a hell of a lot easier than most people suppose. It just takes a delicate touch. Holding my breath, I reached forward and grabbed the edge of the zip, sliding it open two inches. Then I slipped my hand inside. My fingers brushed against something soft and velvet and I pulled it. Whatever it was, it was heavy. I pulled a bit harder, just as there was a sudden ring.

I froze, my hand still inside his backpack. He stopped, forcing me to stop as well, dug into his suit pocket and took out a shiny phone.

‘Yeah,’ he grunted.

I started tugging again, gently lifting the object towards the opening.

‘No sign of her. Byron’s going to be seriously pissed off.’

The velvet snagged on the edge of the zip. Shite, shite, shite. I was rusty. It had been a long time since I’d bothered with the sort of small ticket items you could get from this type of theft.

‘We should double back. She might go back home.’

Just as I thought I was going to have to use my teeth, I managed to free the fabric and pull away. In my hand was a small black velvet bag, tied with a gold string. Whatever was inside, it was going to be valuable. Even if it wasn’t the Lia Saifire, it was still satisfying. I carefully closed the zip again, something many pickpockets didn’t bother with. Taking the time – and the risk – to do it meant it would be longer before he noticed that anything was amiss.