Page 43 of Heart of Thieves

She finally backs into her apartment, and I follow. As soon as my gleaming shoes clack onto the curling linoleum, she slams the door behind me. “You know, people said you were better.”

“Better than whom?” I cross to the scratched table and snatch an apple from the basket at its center, taking a hearty bite.

“Than the gang lords who run the other casinos,” she retorts. “People said you were honorable. Kept your word. Didn’t resort to threats and violence.”

I salute her with the apple, swallowing the grainy bite. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

Distaste twists her mouth. “Clearly.”

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” I hand her the bitten fruit and pull out the empty voratium die Laurel gave me. “Hold still.”

Ostena glares daggers as I press it to her heart. My eyes drop closed, and I sink into her tapestry of secrets.

Quick as lightning, she bolts to the counter, seizing a knife and lunging toward me.

“Ah, ah, ah.” I catch her wrist, squeezing until the blade drops into my other palm. I toss it into the bowl of apples, skewering one with a sickening squelch. “Now. Where were we?”

She backs away. “What are you?”

“Does it matter?” I ask with the debonair grin I’ve perfected, the one that hides the shame burning through me.

“No, I suppose not,” she says as her back connects with the peeling wallpaper.

“About that secret.” I hold out the die again. “Will you cooperate, or am I going to have to be more persuasive?”

“You’re vile,” she spits, but she holds still.

“Thank you.” I press the die to her skin, drawing out the secret until the voratium glows like it did during the tournament. A shimmering garnet.

“Finished?” She shoves past me to yank open the apartment door. Her hands are shaking, but her glare does not falter and neither does her voice.

“Shame you couldn’t get your hands on that Unbreakable Lie. You could have used it to free yourself from the sort of man you’ve chosen to love.”

She scoffs. “Rich, coming from one like you.”

“Best wishes for your health. And Forsyth’s.” I stride past, pausing only when her hand encircles my arm.

“Forsyth will find you, and he will make sure you pay for what you did last night,” she sneers. “What you’ve done here.”

“Tell him I look forward to seeing him.” I tip my fedora and wink.

With a look of utter disgust, she releases me and slams the door.

Shuddering, I stride down the twelve flights of stairs, trying to shake away the burn in the pit of my stomach.

Laurel is still there, flitting behind my eyes, watching my every move.

I hope she is convinced.

I swing into the cool night air, nearly knocking into a mob of people clustered around a newsstand on the sidewalk. “Nocturne,” someone whispers, handing a newspaper to their friend.

My heart skitters. Did something happen to Lola? Is she all right?

I send out a sensation glamour of something pressing against the people in my way, and they all shuffle aside. I pluck a newspaper off the top of the stack, frowning at yet another headline about Tomas Hildebard and Ignalus Price as a stiff bit of parchment drops out. Retrieving it, I glimpse glittering golden text.

Dearest Aethera,

It seems a certain seasp awn has shu t down his casino, and I for one miss his games. Wha t do you say we throw a p arty of our own? Make our cit y a game board of magic and mayhem once more?