Gifted Thief (Highland Magic #1) (2 page)

‘License and registration.’

The man calmly handed them over. The policeman inspected them briefly then turned to her. In a fit of desperation, she burst out, ‘We’re going to see my gran. She’s sick. She needs us.’

The policeman’s expression softened. He waved them on, already focusing his attention on the car behind them.

Once they were safely away, the man spoke, glancing at her in the mirror as he drove. ‘That was good work,’ he said. ‘A bit shaky but the improvisation was clever.’ He nodded. ‘It’s been a real stroke of luck meeting you. Perhaps we can help each other out. I’m Taylor. What’s your name?’

The girl, eyes wide and hands clenched tightly in her lap, took a deep breath. ‘Integrity,’ she said suddenly, her voice clear. ‘My name’s Integrity.’

Taylor laughed aloud. In fact three hours later, when they finally pulled into a dark Aberdonian street, he was still laughing. It was a long time before she realised why.

You have to do bad shit to get ahead. Taylor had told me that a million times and for a long time I’d bought into it. After tonight, however, things were going to be different. A new leaf and a new me. That was what I was planning.

I’d been thinking about it for a long time but since I’d received the letter in elegant, handwritten script demanding my appearance at the Sidhe court, I felt I had no choice but to step up my plans to vamoose out of the city. I didn’t want anything to do with those bastards. Not unless it meant ripping them off. Frankly, I’d rather head down to the Lowlands – and the Veil – than venture near the Clanlands.

At least Taylor had promised that my final hurrah was going to be a straightforward job. ‘In and out,’ he’d said. ‘The place will be empty.’

‘You know I’m leaving after this one,’ I reminded him. Not that it was likely it would have slipped his mind but with Taylor sometimes certain points bore repeating.

‘Of course, of course! As if I could forget.’ His eyes took on a knowing look that I chose to ignore. ‘You’ll miss it though. You won’t get many thrills from tramping around the countryside.’

‘It’s not tramping around the countryside. It’s mountain rescue. I think saving lives will be thrilling enough.’

He grimaced at that. ‘You’ll be bored.’

I simply smiled back. We’d had this conversation often enough in recent weeks. My mind was made up and even he couldn’t change it.

‘I’ll always be here,’ he said. ‘If you do want to come back, that is.’

I hugged him impulsively. ‘I might not come back to work but I’ll always come back. You’re my family.’ I meant every word. We’d had a few rough times over the years but who hadn’t? Taylor had been there for me when no-one else was, even if his motives weren’t always pure. I worried about him more than he’d ever know.

He looked abashed at my heartfelt words and ran an awkward hand through his hair. It was no longer the carroty mop he had when I first met him all those years ago. Now it was more silver, far closer in colour to my own locks, which still drew curious looks and the odd question about my ancestry, even amongst the Clan-less underbelly. For the most part I shrugged them off.

It was a very long time since I moved in Sidhe circles. I crossed the road to avoid passing close by any of my kin, no matter how distantly related they were. And one of the reasons I was leaving Aberdeen was because they’d contacted me.

It wasn’t that I was afraid of what they might do if they got hold of me, although that was a part of it. I just wanted a quiet life. My childhood with the Sidhe was little more than a distant memory; in fact sometimes I felt as if it had happened to someone else.

I ignored the gossip mags and whispered rumours about what each Clan was up to. I lived in the underclass, far away from them. I didn’t care whether Aifric remained Steward and was therefore still in charge, or which man Tipsania Scrymgeour was currently stepping out with. I didn’t even care that her father, the Bull, appeared to be making more money than Bill Gates. The Sidhe could spend their days worrying about politics, jockeying for position and doing whatever they could to rise above other Clans. I only cared about me and mine. And none of mine were Sidhe. Or Clan.

I tested my kit, adjusting the harness at my back to ensure it was secure, and skirted round the back of the building. It might be the middle of the night during a bank holiday weekend but I still needed to be circumspect. It would be sod’s law if I got nabbed on the very last day I spent as a career criminal. Tapping my forehead three times with my index finger to signal to my waiting crew, I gave one last look around then sprang up.

My fingertips curled easily around the first ledge. Despite the typical Scottish chill, I was barefoot. It made it far easier to gain purchase on the smooth glass surface of the towering bank. I also admit that I rather enjoyed it when I glanced down and caught a flash of the sparkly nail varnish adorning my toenails. It felt appropriate for this job; we were, after all, going after some more sparkles ‒ albeit of the more expensive kind.

Clambering up with fluid, nimble ease, I made fast work of my ascent. Beads of sweat were only just appearing on my brow when I reached the assigned floor. Piece of cake. I tightened my grip with my left hand, using my right to reach behind and unclip the glass breaker that was hooked to my belt.

It was a nifty piece of kit, designed to help trapped motorists break out of their cars. While I’d never heard of anyone actually using one to save their own life, I found mine particularly useful. It was a gift from Taylor when I graduated from simple manipulation tactics and dull look-out posts to full-blown thief. The others might scoff at its hot pink colour but I’d had it for seven lucky years and it had never let me down. I might wear black to stay camouflaged against the night sky but that didn’t mean that everything I carried had to be boring monochrome too.

Leaning back as far as I could, I swung it into the centre of the pane of tinted glass, shattering it instantly. Thanks both to the glass breaker’s and the window’s design, all the shards of glass fell inwards just as I wanted.

Flashing a satisfied smile to my inner thief, I heaved myself inside with a leap, landing far enough in to avoid catching my skin on any of the dangerous broken pieces. I pivoted round and grinned, curtseying at the now-gaping hole. Then I checked my watch. Less than ninety seconds from pavement to entry. That was impressive, even for me.

Without wasting another minute, I unclipped my harness and tested the nearby wall. The plaster seemed sound enough so I pulled out my tiny drill, made a hole in the wall and carefully inserted the climbing wire. I gave it an experimental tug; it would hold. Less than thirty seconds later, I was lowering the rope out of the window and whistling down softly.

Three dark shadows broke away from different corners of the street. As the rope grew taut with the weight of the first climber, I surveyed my surroundings. Taylor had insisted that this floor would be the easiest one for entry. Looking around at the low-spec furniture, I was inclined to agree. The employees on this level were clearly not the wealthy bankers who occupied other areas of this building and were universally despised by the rest of the world. The guys who worked here looked like they filled their days with dull data entry whilst suffering zero-hour contracts.

I wrinkled my nose and made my way along the narrow aisle between the cubicles until I reached the office, which was separated by walls rather than flimsy partitions. Frankly, it was a wonder that more people didn’t turn to a life of crime. Working here would drive me insane.

Inside the manager’s office was a heavy walnut desk and swivel chair. It looked considerably more comfortable than the chairs out front. I sat down experimentally and swung myself around. Yup - it was pretty damn fine. I examined the collection of family photos of beaming children and heavily lipsticked trophy wife; I resisted the temptation to find a Sharpie and draw a moustache on them.

The frame was marked with the Macfie Clan colours. Typical. I bet Mr Manager here had aligned himself with them, whereas his minions in the larger room outside remained Clan-less. The Macfies were always into bloody banking. If they’d chosen a different path, we wouldn’t be targeting them so bloody often. I shrugged. Their fault.

I helped myself to several boiled sweets from a crystal jar, raised my legs up, crossing my feet on the desktop, and waited.

The crunch of glass signalled Speck’s arrival. He hated heights so he had to be forced to go up the ropes first. If the warlock was left until last, he’d never pluck up the courage to clip on his carabineer. We’d learned that the hard way a couple of years ago and lost out on a fat purse as a result. I had tried coaching him through his fear but nothing seemed to work ‒ other than a swift kick up his arse. With Lexie following on his tail, of course, that wasn’t a problem.

Speck appeared in the doorway, cursing. ‘We didn’t have to climb. I could have bypassed the front door in less time than it took to get up here.’

‘Relax.’ I gestured towards the sweets. ‘Have some sugar and calm down. You know this was the sensible option.’

He grumbled at me, reaching out for the jar with a trembling hand. I knew better than to comment. His terror would subside by the time Brochan, the last of our motley crew, joined us. To point out that Speck was shaking like a leaf served no purpose. He could be rather sensitive, even at the best of times.

While he crumpled up the sweet wrapper into a ball and tossed it carelessly onto the floor, I opened up a drawer and peered inside. Lying on top of several heavily perfumed envelopes was an ornate letter opener. I lifted it out. It was an expensive tool, especially in today’s digital age. Made entirely from silver and with a perfectly balanced blade, it seemed a travesty to leave it where it was. I regarded it seriously for a moment then slid into one of my many zippered pockets. It would make a nice souvenir.

When Lexie appeared, grinning broadly at Speck’s pale face, I got to my feet and scooped up the jar of sweets. It wouldn’t be long now. I went back out to the main room, depositing one sweet next to each keyboard.

‘One for you,’ I sang out, ‘and one for you, and one for you.’ I paused at one cubicle laden with Star Wars memorabilia and pursed my lips. ‘You deserve two.’

‘You’re such a geek,’ Brochan told me, appearing silently from behind with the coil of climbing rope.

I winked at him and rattled the now almost empty jar. ‘Want one?’

He patted his flat stomach. ‘Watching my weight.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Are we clear?’

‘As a mountain stream.’

I shot him a look, wondering whether that was a gibe at my upcoming change of career. His expression was innocent but I caught the faintest hint of merriment in the back of his eyes and stuck out my tongue.

‘If the wind changes…’

I waved a hand in the air. ‘Yeah, yeah. We’re not in Sidhe territory, remember.’

‘Well you’re the one who’d know.’

I tossed back my hair and ignored the rejoinder. ‘Come on. Let’s get going.’

Leaving behind the depressing office space, the four of us moved quietly out towards the bank of lifts. We required little in the way of communication by this point; we’d worked together long enough to have an almost telepathic understanding of what was required. Still, out of respect for this being our last mission together, Speck glanced at me and I gave him a nod of acknowledgment. He unscrewed the button panel in the wall, short-circuiting the system and disabling all the elevators in one fell swoop. He jerked his thumb at Brochan who immediately stepped forward and wrenched open the doors to reveal the cavernous drop.

‘First one to the bottom is a rotten egg,’ he smirked.

Speck sighed. ‘Can’t we just take the stairs?’

Lexie tutted, giving him a sharp shove. Speck stumbled through the gap, his curse echoing as it bounced off the walls.

‘We are trying to stay quiet,’ I reminded her with a frown.

She shrugged. ‘No-one’s here, Integrity. We’d be waiting forever for Speck to make a move if I’d not done that.’

I didn’t entirely disagree; I didn’t entirely approve either. ‘There’s no point in taking unnecessary risks.’

‘Your impending retirement is making you boring.’

I folded my arms and gave Lexie a stony glare. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to maintain it for long before a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. ‘Yeah, you’re right. I can still get to the bottom quicker than you though.’

The other woman grinned. ‘Go on then.’

I took a deep breath and jumped. Although the drop to the bottom should have been lethal, Taylor had cleverly modified all of our jumpsuits so it was a piece of cake. He was a regular Q. Each suit was fitted around the shoulders with a small canopy-style parachute. It was no good for heights of more than eighty metres, as sheer velocity would negate its gliding power. For something like this elevator shaft, though, it was perfect. Less than one floor down and I’d already released it, enjoying the air rushing past my cheeks as I descended with Lexie a heartbeat after me on the other side of the narrow drop. She might have beaten me if Speck hadn’t somehow gotten in her way and forced her into the wall instead of directly on top of the roof of the frozen lift.

‘Oops,’ he said, entirely unrepentant.

‘Idiot!’ Lexie hissed. ‘I’ve been trying to beat Integrity at this for months and you know this was my last chance to do it.’

‘Tell you what, Lexie,’ I said. ‘I promise I’ll meet up with you in a few weeks once I’m settled in Oban and we can have a jumping session then. As many times as you want.’

Brochan joined us, his large feet clanging loudly against the metallic lift. His merman body was better designed for water rather than land, even though he had a profound fear of the sea. Any footwear he ended up with looked like outsized clown shoes. It was a miracle he managed to stay as quiet as he did. ‘Waste of time,’ he dismissed.

‘Why?’ Lexie demanded. ‘You don’t think I’m good enough?’

‘She’s Sidhe. You’re not. You’re a cute pixie but you’re not like her.’

I stiffened. What did that mean? Fortunately I was prevented from asking by Speck’s obvious snigger. ‘She’s Sidhe. That’s funny.’ Brochan looked at him blankly. ‘Sidhe? She? You know. Sidhe is pronounced she and you said she is…’ His voice faltered at Brochan’s expression. ‘Never mind,’ he muttered.