Gifted Thief (Highland Magic #1)(36)

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.

I sidestepped left just as Dimples went right and headed back the long way. The moment I was sure there was enough distance between us, I pressed myself against the wall until he’d vanished completely. Then I opened the bag. The deep-faceted blue of the Lia Saifire blinked up at me.

Crapadoodledo. Go me.





Chapter Ten




The small bar on the edge of St. Andrews Square was smoky and reeked of stale beer. I cast my eyes around, quickly alighting on Lexie who was sitting in the far corner, nursing some strange green concoction. It was so lurid in colour that I was briefly reminded of Byron’s eyes. Ick. I didn’t want to give him a single thought. Not unless it involved stripping him of all his wealth (and maybe his clothes too).

I slid into the seat opposite. ‘Piss off,’ Lexie grunted, without looking up.

‘Hey,’ I said softly. ‘It’s me.’

Her head jerked up and her face filled with relief. ‘Integrity! Where the hell have you been? What’s been going on? Why haven’t you been in touch? Have you heard from Brochan or Speck? Do you know if I’m in danger? What about…’

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa.’ I raised my palms. ‘Chill, Lex. Everything’s good.’

She gazed at me like I was a total idiot. ‘Good? Good? How can everything be good?’

I winced. ‘Keep your voice down. You need to keep a low profile, remember?’

She subsided into a series of blue-tinged grumbles.

‘That’s better,’ I said, like a disapproving teacher. ‘How many of those have you had?’

She tapped her glass. ‘These? I dunno. Half a dozen maybe.’

I eyed the drink with distaste. ‘What’s in it?’

‘Crème de menthe, vodka and Amaretto. Want to try?’

Eurgh. ‘No thanks.’ I caught the attention of the bartender. ‘Jug of coffee, please. And make it strong.’

‘You’re no fun. I’m drowning my sorrows. You should join me.’