Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(21)

It was only when sleep whistled its first notes through him that he realized he’d seen one of the faces in the thief’s journal somewhere—on a wanted poster.





7


The Bet


If Finn had a peso for every time she woke up with a sack over her head, she wouldn’t need to do the things that led to her waking up with a sack over her head.

She’d jolted awake in an alley wearing a cloak that wasn’t hers with her hands and ankles tied together like a trussed-up turkey. She’d expected to see the boy in the fox mask, but instead she woke to the sight of a man she’d never met, a burlap sack in his meaty hand. When she bucked and fought in his arms, he laughed and said, “What? Got plans for the night? You’ll have to reschedule. You’re expected at family dinner.”

Finn froze in his arms. She had no family. Not unless he counted Ignacio. A shiver flitted up her spine. Did this have to do with him? Then the man’s fist came down against her temple and there was only darkness.

She woke, for the second time that night, as her center of gravity shifted. She squirmed in the meaty arms that held her, and was dropped into the chair with a plop. The sack was wrenched off her head, pulling a few strands of her hair with it.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark cellar, she trained her expression into one of confidence, as if she were lounging on a throne instead of tied to an uncomfortable stool in a cellar where no one could hear her scream. Her shadow flared out around her, like the wings of a great bird.

“If it isn’t the Face Thief,” a voice called from the darkness before her. A woman stepped forward and sat in the empty, high-backed chair a few paces ahead of Finn. Her grin revealed a row of yellowed teeth. Finn had a feeling that this wasn’t the place where business began, but where it ended with screams and blood.

Beside the woman’s feet was a bucket. Her shadow curled around it, predatory. “I’ve heard of you, the famous face-changing thief making a name for herself in my city. I’d hoped we’d cross paths at some point, but not under such, let’s say, unpleasant circumstances.”

“Who the hell are you and what do you want with me?”

The woman gave a laugh. “It’s refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t know me.” She leaned forward, her voice tapering down into a whisper, as if they were exchanging secrets. “Someone who doesn’t know how afraid they should be when they wake up in this cellar.”

Finn glowered at her, a mask to hide the pounding of her heart. “I only know people who are worth knowing. Sorry you didn’t make the maldito cut.”

“Let’s get to the reason we’re here, shall we? I’m Kol. Surely you’ve heard my name. Maybe even seen my work?”

Finn stilled in her chair. She’d only been in the city for the past month, but even she’d heard of Kol and her deadly gang, known as la Familia. Still, Finn wouldn’t let the fear show on her face. Kol was a big dog and Finn had every intention of teaching her to sit.

“Now, before I ask you to return the books you stole from a game my men were poised to win, I’d like to show you what happened to the last pendejo to deny me what I asked for.”

Kol leaned over in her chair and reached into the bucket with one hand, then pulled out a decapitated head by its mop of dark hair. Blood dropped from the open neck, and the man’s tongue slipped out of his dead mouth. Finn’s stomach roiled and pitched.

“Now that you know the stakes, that’s enough of that!” Kol dropped the head back into the bucket. Finn heard the sound of flesh slapping against something wet and willed herself not to vomit. Kol held up her hands and a woman appeared from behind her to wipe them with a handkerchief. “Thank you, Mija.”

“My pleasure, Madre,” the woman said obediently, then retreated back into the shadows.

Finn heard Kol’s minions shifting in the dark around her—well-muscled men and women trained to snap necks first and ask questions second. “You’re disgusting,” Finn said to her.

“No, I’m impatient.” Kol tapped the bucket with her foot. “And greedy when it comes to what’s mine. Those books were already guaranteed to a buyer for a hefty price, worth more than your life.” She looked Finn up and down. “Twice over. Now, tell me where you hid them.”

The thief swallowed thickly. “I don’t have them.”

Kol tilted her head, her frighteningly cordial smile wavering. “Don’t lie, muchacha.”

“I’m not,” Finn growled, her cheeks warming. She’d rather lie and say she’d sold them than admit the truth. “They were stolen from me.”

A silence stretched through the cellar. Kol stared at her blank-faced before throwing her head back in an uproarious laugh that stretched long and wide like an accordion.

She waved her hands, a signal to her minions that they too could laugh. Then the entire cellar boomed with their guffaws. Finn scowled, her jaw tense.

“Some thief you are! And to think I was the slightest bit threatened by you.” She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “With you stealing some of my business and all.”

“Just let me go and you and your thick-necked goons can laugh all night long.”

Kol raised a single hand and her minions fell silent. “I don’t think so. You see, you still owe me for those books. And you’ll be paying off that debt by working for me.” She spread her arms wide as if inviting Finn to embrace her. “Welcome to la Familia, Mija.”