A Thief’s Magic

Chapter 1

Nothing was worse than walking up to a casino and brothel with empty pockets except walking up to the back door of a casino and brothel with empty pockets and an emptier stomach.

Luke could practically feel his fangs growing longer—which wasn’t actually happening, but he had to remind himself that it wasn’t.

He was just painfully aware of how hungry he was.

He’d run out of blood bags the night before, and he was further behind on his coven dues than he was his rent.

A respectable, almost hundred-year-old vampire should have had more than enough money to support himself and a retinue of frequent blood donors.

A mansion, or at least an extremely nice condo, would put him on a level with his peers.

And he’d had those things, once. Well, almost once, back in his early nights before he’d discovered more ways to lose money.

But even vampire lives changed. Though I seem to be stuck in this rut. Luke slipped his hands out of his coat pockets and approached the door. He tapped out the rhythm he’d been given a decade ago. Tap. Tap. Pause for three beats. Three more taps and a slam of his hand against the metal.

The peephole slid open with an aggressive rasp. Goliath peered out with a glare that could make milk curdle.

Prepared for all of this, Luke beamed a winner’s smile up toward him. The peephole was set up in the door so that only someone of more than six feet might be at eye level with it. Since he was well under that—only around five foot five—he had to look up.

Rather than offer a pleasantry, Goliath huffed and slid the metal peephole shut.

Scrapes knocked around on the other side of the door until finally, it swung open.

The entrance room was a small concrete space, which was bare except for a heavy metal stool that Goliath used to see through the peephole.

Newcomers would be treated to an illusion that granted Goliath extra height, but he was not much taller than Luke.

However, he was twice as broad in the gut and shoulders.

Luke had been slim as a mortal and became waifish as a vampire.

More than one person had assumed he was a runway model.

Occasionally, rude humans clueless to the supernatural would yell at him to eat a hamburger.

But mortal food provided no nutrition. Goliath was far from the only person who could bench-press him without trying hard.

Goliath smirked, a smile showing at just the corner of his lips. “One hundred and seventy-two. I win the pot.”

“Betting? On moi?” Luke asked as he shut the metal door behind him. “Should you and your fellows be doing that?”

“We have a frequent-flyer list.” Goliath’s smile broadened. “You’re number three. Maybe number two, now.”

Patrons never came through Goliath’s door. Only the desperate and money-hungry poor souls. Of which I am always one. Luke forced his smile to stay in place. At least there was a supernatural someone in the Chicagoland area in worse straits than him. “Pity. We know I prefer being on the bottom.”

“Is that why you’re always making bad bets?” Goliath remarked.

“I win. Sometimes.”

Goliath chuckled.

A soft chime went off. It had a hauntingly melodic note like the beginning of a dirge. The first time Luke had heard that sound, he’d wanted to run back out the door. But he’d been too desperate then, and he was worse off now. Well, my skills have improved since then.

Goliath was still laughing as he walked over to the door that led further into the building. He rapped on it twice, then there was a click to unlock it from the other side, and it opened.

An absolutely beautiful woman waited there. She floated her wand between her hands, but on seeing Luke, she snatched it out of the air and cursed under her breath. “You couldn’t have gone another week?”

“Is that a new glamor I smell, Miranda? You have a hint of ginger where you didn’t last time,” Luke said warmly. He didn’t care if she could read the falseness in his charm. “Or have you actually discovered how to reverse age? You’re positively radiant.”

“New spell, unfortunately.” Miranda waggled the tip of her wand in Luke’s direction. The door behind him clicked close. “What drags you in here soon enough to wreck my wager?”

“Simply looking for a job,” Luke replied.

Miranda took her seat again. It was practically a throne, cramping the end of the hallway, with a high back and plush seat.

She was set up so she had a full view of the door she was guarding while a mirror in the corner let her keep a view of the long hall behind her.

“Not a loan? Damn, you’re disappointing me all over tonight. ”

“Were there multiple wagers?” Luke asked.

“Maybe.” Miranda nodded at the staircase. “Boss knows you’re here. He’s up in his office.”

“Thanks.” Luke slipped past Miranda.

The hallway was maroon and had a heady bouquet of life—a mix of sweat, blood, sex, and the lightest hints of flowers—that mingled with the faint soundtrack of joyful shouts coming from the casino at the far end and the occasional moan, groan, and other noises of pleasure coming from the nearer rooms. Some night, I’ll earn my privileges to walk through the front door again.

He went up the stairs. The rooms on the second level were more soundproofed than the first, but the hallway walls were the same maroon. It wasn’t quite the color of fresh blood, but it was close.

How many vampires were feeding in the rooms beyond? How many mortals were offering themselves up for a feed? Would anyone pay him to suck their blood? Could he make an unliving that way? An avenue I might have to pursue if this doesn’t work.

Of course, if this didn’t work, he’d have bigger problems than an empty stomach.

If Price couldn’t help … Don’t think about it. Price always has something. Luke straightened his shoulders and knocked on the last door on the right.

A click sounded, and then the door opened on its own.

Where the back areas leading to this space were practical, Price’s office was filled to the brim with minutia.

The lush rug on the floor had a dizzying pattern in a multitude of colors and coordinated with the pillows on a couch against the left side.

Three display cases around the room held a selection of Price’s weapons, ranging from simple daggers to an ornate magical staff complete with a diamond head.

His desk was an intimidating piece with a series of runes carved around its top.

The chair in front of it was small and uncomfortable as hell. Luke decided he’d get on his knees before he put his ass on that seat again.

Price sat behind his desk in a leather chair. Whatever business he’d been working on was already swept off his desk, which left it empty except for a tablet that showed him camera views around his building. As Luke came in, he flipped the tablet over.

Price was in his mid-forties, and he dressed with a casual elegance that took a level of interest in fashion that Luke had never been able to afford.

Not a single salt-and-pepper hair was out of place on his head or in his well-trimmed beard.

His hazel eyes sparkled blue more than other colors, but Luke knew that was a trick of his evening’s suit.

Somehow, the white pearl pinkie ring he always wore worked for him rather than looking out of place.

He would stand out in a silver fox competition, likely nabbing first place with his dazzling smile before anyone else had the chance to step onto the stage.

“You must need a job,” Price said. “Who do you owe this time?”

He gave Luke a bright smile, and it twisted Luke’s guts in three different directions.

All warmth was gone from Price’s smile, from his voice.

Two and a half years wasn’t enough to ease any wounds.

Probably because I keep inflicting them.

Luke put his hands on the back of the chair meant for guests or staff or clients—whoever was unfortunate enough to need to be within these walls with the slick man on the other side of the desk.

Petitioners, that’s what they are. Begging for a lord’s favor.

Not that Price was an actual lord, but he had more power than some of the lesser fey nobles.

“No hello from you either?” Luke asked. “There’s no reason for us to be so cut-and-dry about why I’m here.”

“Should I pour you a drink? Let you waste my time by telling me how magnificent my new acquisitions look? Maybe take a tour of the casino so you can see the new flooring?” Price gestured at his liquor cart as he spoke.

“A drink wouldn’t hurt, would it? Let me make you a dirty martini.” Luke headed for the cart.

“Don’t. The only reason you’re here instead of at Hughes’s is because I won’t force you into some long-term alliance,” Price said.

“And you’re much hotter.” Luke changed direction and slunk toward Price’s desk, but Price stopped smiling. With a sigh, Luke stepped back and dropped the smooth exterior he’d maintained since deciding to come to Price’s. “I see you’re not in the mood for conversation.”

“I love a good conversation. All you ever want from one is an avenue to getting what you want, which is usually a bag of cash.” Price tapped his fingers on his desk. “So, who do you owe now?”

“I thought you would have remembered that I liked to talk before and during sex,” Luke countered.

Price narrowed his eyes. “And I also know that you occasionally helped yourself to my wallet without asking.”

If Luke could blush, his cheeks would have been on fire. Price had never brought up his light theft before. He hadn’t stolen more than fifty dollars overall, but he’d thought it’d been completely unnoticed. Should have known he knew.

“All right, I wish I could say you’re wrong, but you’re right. I owe Dawnshadow.”

“What the hells were you doing gambling in the Gilded Thorn?”

“Why do you assume I was gambling?”

“Because you aren’t stupid enough to ask a fey for a loan before you ask me. Or even Hughes.” Price raised his eyebrow. “Unless you did?”

“Not a loan, no. But a debt.” Luke cleared his throat. “I may, or may not have, used a disguise that resulted in additional fines being placed upon my completely undeserving person.”

“Undeserving,” Price said skeptically.

“Their rules state that you aren’t allowed to use magic to disguise yourself.

I used a fake ID, cosmetics, and a wig. Illegal, sure.

But it’s not like the Gilded Thorn is a legal casino.

” Luke dropped his volume to grumble. “Dawnshadow chose to enforce the rule since technically it uses the word ‘disguise’ and claims that covers mundane attempts to cover identity as well.”

“A debt like that is bound to be steep,” Price said.

Luke leaned on Price’s desk and gave his best smile. “Which is why I came to my favorite warlock businessman to see if he had a job for me.”

“Lucky for you, one landed in my lap last night.” Price frowned, but he opened a drawer and pulled out a manilla envelope. “I was going to let this one time out, Luke. Something smelled off about the people who brought it to me.”

“What’s the offer?” Luke asked.

“You completely jumped over that something’s wrong with it,” Price replied.

“Not entirely.” Luke itched to take the envelope, but Price was holding it just far enough away that he’d have to make an obvious grab for it. Instead, he held out his hand. “But I know that if you held on to this, either the stink’s not that bad or the money’s that good.”

“The job pays half a million.”

Luke was glad he didn’t need to breathe.

He would have gasped at that amount when he was a mortal.

That much money would pay off Dawnshadow and a few others he owed and leave him with a bit left over.

If he could stay away from any gambling, he might actually have savings to build on and salvage his reputation, too. “Sounds perfect.”

Price held up the envelope. “But I want you to know that I am seriously considering handing this over to Arthur Pendragon and letting him warn the appropriate party.”

“Except you like money.” Luke’s grin turned more genuine. “You could let me have this job and then warn Pendragon that something wicked is happening.”

“I could,” Price said slowly.

“Your cut’s fifty thousand. I know you’re a successful crime boss, but even you have to admit that fifty thousand for doing nothing other than handing that over is a pretty sweet deal,” Luke cooed.

“True.” Price started to hand Luke the envelope but pulled it back just as Luke’s fingers brushed it. “Do me a favor and don’t get yourself killed.”

“Careful, Price. You sound like you care.” Luke took the envelope.

“Only about my commission.”

“Mmhmm.” Luke waggled the envelope as he headed for the door. “Thanks for the gig!”

“Just get me my money.”

Luke gave a quick salute and left Price’s office.

Five hundred thousand dollars. Well, four hundred and fifty thousand after I give Price his cut.

And two hundred thousand has to go to Dawnshadow.

And I owe back dues to the Great Lakes Coven.

And then there’s rent and … Luke sighed.

By the time he reached the first floor, he’d already spent the job’s money.

But I’ll have my head almost above water. I can work with that.