He climbed out hand-over-hand, whistling to himself. An easy job was welcome, and the money would keep him in drinks at some tropical paradise for a long time, but he’d been expecting at least a minor challenge. Mastering skills was pointless if you never got to use them.
As Marcus arrived at the other end of his rope, a loud alarm howled from the house.
“Oh, that’s more like it.”
He pulled out a knife and cut the rope with one swift stroke. He wanted a challenge, but he didn’t want to make it too easy for anyone who might pursue him, either.
You probably want a challenge too, even if you don’t know it.
A smile on his face, the cat burglar charged toward the edge of his current rooftop and leapt to the next.
Shay moaned and let her head loll back. She loved history and archaeology, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed every presentation related to those subjects.
An Analysis of Pre-Twenty-First Century Contact With Oricerans: A Modern Cross-Disciplinary Approach was a dry book. Dry as the Sahara Desert. No, not even that. Dry as fucking Mercury.
Any sort of narrative style designed to make the information more digestible had been eschewed in favor of maximum density. The nested footnotes didn’t help things. At least a reader could never claim they didn’t know where the authors had gotten their information.
The tomb raider wanted to stick the book back on the shelf, but every time she was about to give up, some interesting tidbit popped up that drew her back in. The back of her neck tingled as if she were about to stumble upon some critical fact. Whether that was instinct or wishful thinking was up for debate.
Okay, I can do this. It’s why I came to Warehouse Four tonight anyway.
Today’s subject of interest was Correk. She still didn’t know a lot about the man, and her typical methods of gaining information were running into dead ends or strange anecdotes that obviously had nothing to do with the Light Elf.
A little digging netted an off-hand reference in some chef’s memoir about a Renaissance Faire actor going by that name in Austin, Texas over twenty years prior. Shay chalked that up to weird coincidence. She was sure that if she pushed hard enough, she could probably find a dark-haired woman named Shay in Texas regardless of the year.
I need to figure out more about this guy. Something about him is bothering me. My gut tells me he’s a lot more than just some Elf Mafia collector, and way more dangerous.
Shay looked back down at her book and its painfully detailed discussion about the Light Elf language and its musical qualities.
An alarm sounded on her phone, and she picked it from the table.
PERIMETER ALERT, WAREHOUSE FOUR. MOTION AND CONTACT ALARMS 1 AND 3 TRIPPED AT 21:22.
Shay narrowed her eyes and brought up her security app. Peyton’s customizations had made controlling security at the warehouses easier—a perfect gift for the paranoid woman in a man’s life.
Thanks, Peyton.
“Where the fuck is the…”
A loud thud from the roof echoed through the warehouse. The source impact knocked down years of accumulated dust from part of the ceiling in a thick cloud that descended toward one of her bookshelves.
Shay winced.
“Okay, asshole, I don’t know if you followed me or you’re just picking a place at random, but now I’m ready to give you a beat-down. No one messes with my library.”
Shay examined a camera feed from her phone. A dark-haired, dark-clothed man wearing a backpack knelt near the edge of the roof of the warehouse. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small plastic bag.
“That’s an expensive-ass necklace.” Shay burst out laughing. “Oh, bet it’s from the Blackwell place. They should have moved a long time ago. Wait, what the fuck is he doing?”
The thief returned the plastic bag to his backpack, sat down cross-legged, and pulled out an apple. He took a bite, with a smile on his face like he had all the time in the world to enjoy his rooftop picnic.
“You arrogant prick, you’re not that far from the place you probably just robbed. The cops could still tag you with a drone. Shit.”
Shay snatched her gun from the table and rushed toward the door. She needed this asshole away from Warehouse Four before any private security or police came snooping. There was no way she could evacuate this place quickly, even with the help of Purity Solutions.
Her heart pounding, she made it outside in record time and up a ladder to the roof so fast she couldn’t even remember the climb when she finished it. She sprinted toward the man chomping away on fruit in the center of the roof, illuminated by the dim light of the stars and street lights a few buildings away.
The thief hopped to his feet and tilted his head, a curious look on his face.
He bowed with a flourish. “It truly is my lucky night.”
“I don’t know about that, asshole.”
He laughed. “Such a beautiful woman shouldn’t use such foul language.” His gaze dipped.
What, he’s checking me out now? Seriously? Does he even get the situation?
“And use such awful weapons,” the thief commented.
Shay snorted. She wasn’t wearing a jacket, and her shoulder holster was visible.
Good, he knows I’m dangerous. That might make this much easier.
Shay glared at the cat burglar. “You picked the wrong night to piss me off.”
He saluted. “Oh, I see. You’re some sort of champion of justice, disappointed in a man who is just trying to make his way in the world.”
“I’m no champion of justice, and did anyone ever tell you that you’re really fucking annoying?”
He grinned. “Many, many times.”
Screw this.
Shay charged him. If he wasn’t going to pull a gun, then she only needed to get him moving away from Warehouse Four, or she could knock his ass out and drag him away. Whatever worked.
The thief sprinted
