My time to complete his challenge was ticking away. How in holy heathens was I going to make it downtown in less than three hours without a vehicle? Even if taxis came out this far into the middle of nowhere, my phone had no reception here.
Back out now, and I’d never live it down. I waved toward the car. “Go on, then. I’ll see you at the Finger by noon.”
Omen strode toward the station wagon. The others followed more hesitantly, Snap lingering on the lawn until I shot him a smile more confident than I actually felt. He immediately smiled back, beaming back at me with so much certainty in my abilities that I had a spring in my step when I ducked into the cabin to grab my backpack full of my cat-burglar gear.
As I re-emerged, Betsy roared away down the dirt driveway. I slung the straps over my shoulders, careful of the bandaged wound, and set off at a jog. No time for dillydallying, as my Luna would have said.
It was hard to imagine what she’d make of the woman I’d grown into. Would she have been proud of everything I’d done to rescue the mistreated shadowkind in this world so far or horrified by how much I’d stuck my neck out? True to Omen’s comments about shadowkind attitudes, during the time I’d been with her she’d never shown concern for anyone other than the two of us. I could easily imagine her racing past a hundred caged creatures to spare me from a splinter.
She definitely wouldn’t have approved of the all-black outfit I wore for my thievery—I knew that much. Stealth and sparkles really didn’t mix.
I headed down the New-Age retreat’s overgrown driveway to a quiet road bordered by fallow fields, stretches of woodland, and the occasional farm house. As I loped alongside the ditch, I scanned all of those for anything worth putting those thieving skills to use on.
The sun crept up across the sky, and the heat intensified with it. Sweat trickled down my back.
I must have covered at least a couple of miles before I spotted my salvation: a mud-splattered bicycle leaning against a fence post, ratty tassels drooping from the ends of its handlebars. Not my typical plunder—I was more a gems and rare coins kind of gal—but right now I’d take that bike over the Hope Diamond.
No, let’s be real: I’d take the Hope Diamond, but then I’d steal the bicycle too.
It was obviously a kid’s bike, but a big kid’s, at least. I couldn’t have pedaled it while perched on the seat without hitting my chin with my knees. So, I gripped the gritty plastic handlebars and took off with my ass up in the air like I was about to race in the Tour de France.
As methods of transportation go, you’d be better off not following my lead. I bounced along the potholed country roads for the better part of an hour, until my thighs and back ached almost as badly as my wounded shoulder, and my eyes were stinging with sweat. Thankfully, my vision wasn’t so blurry that I missed the delivery truck at the pumps of a gas station up ahead.
The delivery truck with its back door ajar.
There weren’t many places around here that a truck that size would be taking its cargo to. I dropped the bike at the edge of the station and slunk over. The driver had his elbow leaned out the window as he chatted with the attendant who was running his credit card.
“Not my favorite type of load, but you’ve got to take whatever you can get these days. At least it’s a short drive to the city.”
Jackpot. I eased the rear door farther up and squeezed under it.
I found myself in a dim, hot space that smelled like straw and shit. Rustles filled the air all around me, punctuated by an occasional… cluck?
I was surrounded by chickens. A hen in the cage closest to me attempted to peck me through the bars.
“Mind your beak,” I whispered at her, thinking various curses very intently in Omen’s general direction, and hugged my legs to my chest as I prepared for a long ride.
By the time I made out city buildings through the gap under the door, I probably smelled like a chicken coop myself, but I’d made it to my destination with a half an hour to spare. I rolled out when the truck stopped at a red light, summoned an Uber while picking bits of straw off my clothes, and told the driver who showed up to take me to the Finger.
The Finger wasn’t the official name of the gigantic statue that loomed in the middle of one of the largest downtown squares, but good luck finding anyone who could tell you what else it might be called. Erected a few decades ago by some avant-garde artiste, the tower of chunks of varnished wood held together by steel struts looked like nothing so much as a massive hand giving the buildings around it the middle finger. Naturally, it was the city’s most popular landmark.
When I hopped out at the edge of the cobblestone courtyard at ten minutes to noon, several tourists were clustered around the Finger taking selfies. There was no sign of any shadowkind, but I wouldn’t have expected to find them basking in the sunlight. As I strolled over to the structure, the four of them appeared as if they’d simply stepped from around its other side rather than straight out of the shadows.
“You see,” Snap said happily if carefully, to make sure no one around us noticed his forked tongue. “Of course she made it.”
With his baseball cap on to cover his horns in mortals’ view, Ruse sauntered over to pluck something out of my hair. He tapped my cheek with a chicken feather. “I won’t ask.”
Funnily enough, Omen didn’t look remotely pleased. “You cut it close,” he said, as if even making it at the last second wouldn’t have been an incredible feat, and immediately turned away. He jabbed a finger toward a police officer who’d paused to buy a hot dog from a stand at the other end of the square. “I hear you consider yourself some kind of master thief. Steal that cop’s cap for me.”
Oh, he wanted to up the ante now, did he?
Thorn tugged at the fingerless leather gloves that disguised his crystalline knuckles but always seemed to irritate him. “Omen,” he started.
I shook my head to hold off the warrior’s protest. “Not a problem. I’ll just need a moment to prepare.”
Omen crossed his arms, giving me a disbelieving scowl. I ignored him as I took the lay of the land. He was going to find out soon enough that I wouldn’t give up—not until the bastards we were both after met a fate at least as horrible as they’d given to their shadowkind victims.
I could use a strategy I’d seen Auntie Luna turn to more than once when her fae glamours and other spells wouldn’t do the trick. Collide and divert. I wasn’t quite as petite and bubbly as she’d been, but I could pull it off nearly as well.
While the cop chowed down on his street meat, I jogged around the nearby streets until I found a performer with an open case strumming her guitar at an intersection. I held out a twenty and patted my wallet when she grabbed it.
“I’ll give you four more of those if you scream as loud as you can, five minutes from now,” I said, pointing at her watch, and added at her quizzical look, “Set it to music if you want. No scream, no cash.”
There wasn’t going to be any cash anyway, but hey, just the twenty was a lot of money when I’d lost nearly all my earthly possessions last week.
I hoofed it back to the square, watching the minutes tick by on my phone. When there was only one left, I took off across the cobblestones at a breakneck run.
The cop had just finished his hot dog. He dabbed at his mouth rather daintily with a paper napkin—and I slammed right into him, looking back over my shoulder as if I were paying more attention to something behind me than to where I was going. Still, I managed to swing my heel against his ankle to knock him right off his feet.