Chapter 3
THREE
T hora descended the stairs with deliberate steps, each one an echo of approaching consequences. “I make it my business to know the names of thieves who steal from influential families.”
“Stay back,” Rourke warned, backing down another flight. “I’m not going in without a fight.”
“They never do,” Thora sighed as if this was all terribly inconvenient.
Rourke hesitated, looking down toward the alley below, then back at Thora. She recognized the calculations happening behind his eyes—weighing options, judging distances, assessing risks.
When he suddenly reversed direction, lunging up the stairs toward her rather than continuing downward, she had already anticipated the move.
She sidestepped his rush with practiced ease, catching his arm mid-motion and using his own momentum against him. His body slammed against the brick wall with enough force to expel the air from his lungs. Before he could recover, the specialized cuffs clicked around his wrist.
Blue energy crackled along the metal, and Rourke gasped as the magic suppressed his shifter abilities. The faint leopard-like markings that had begun to emerge along his temples faded away.
“How did you get these?” he wheezed, staring at the cuffs in disbelief. “They are Hendrick restraints—they’re military grade.”
“Good eye.” Thora secured his other wrist before patting him down with methodical efficiency. “Cost me three months’ worth of bounties. Worth every penny.”
Her fingers connected with something cool and metallic in his inner jacket pocket. She extracted a silver pendant, its surface etched with intricate runes that seemed to shimmer in the fading light.
“The Silverbane Pendant, I presume?” She held it up, examining the craftsmanship. “Doesn’t seem worth the trouble, if you ask me.”
“You don’t understand its value,” Rourke said, a hint of desperation coloring his voice. “The power it contains?—”
“Save it for someone who cares.” Thora tucked the pendant into a secure pouch on her belt. “All I need to know is that the Silverbane family is paying twenty thousand for its return. And another five for bringing you in.”
She guided him down the remaining stairs, maintaining a firm grip on his arm. As they reached the alley below, a pigeon feather floated down from her hair, landing on Rourke’s shoulder like an absurd final insult.
He eyed it, then flicked his gaze up to take in the full extent of her feathered state. A smirk formed on his lips. “Rough day at the office?”
Thora plucked the feather from his shoulder with excessive care. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“The great Thora Halliwell,” he mused, shaking his head. “They said you were good, but I didn’t believe the stories.”
“Stories tend to be exaggerated.” She brushed another feather from her jacket.
“Not these. They say you tracked a phoenix shifter through three states without sleeping. That you caught the Blackwater twins when everyone else said it couldn’t be done.”
Thora studied him for a moment. “You seem to have put a lot of thought into who might come after you.”
“It’s what I’d do in your position.” A sly grin spread across his face. “Let me go, and I can get you double what they’re paying for this bounty.”
“Hmm.” Thora pretended to consider this, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “An interesting offer from someone who stole rather than bought the pendant in the first place. Where exactly would this money come from? Thin air? Your sparkling personality?”
Rourke’s confident expression faltered. “I have connections?—”
“Save it.” She pulled out her phone and dialed the local bounty office. “Halliwell, here. I’ve got Maxwell Rourke and the Silverbane Pendant. Currently in the alley between Hawthorne and Fifth.”
After receiving confirmation that agents were on their way, she ended the call and leaned against the brick wall, maintaining her hold on Rourke. More feathers drifted down around them, and she occupied herself with removing them one by one from her hair and clothing.
“You should consider a career change,” Rourke said after a few minutes of silence. “With your skills, private security firms would pay triple what you make chasing bounties.”
Thora snorted. “And spend my days following around entitled rich people? No thanks.”
“Better than ending up dead in some alley because you picked the wrong target.”
“Is that a threat?” She raised an eyebrow, mildly amused rather than concerned.
“An observation.” His expression grew serious. “You’ve made a name for yourself, Halliwell. And names attract attention—not all of it welcome.”
Before she could respond, headlights swept across the mouth of the alley as a black SUV pulled up. Two agents in nondescript suits approached, nodding to Thora as they reached for Rourke.
“Halliwell,” the older agent greeted her. “Nice work, as usual.”
“Morris.” She handed over the pendant along with the necessary documentation. “Try not to lose him this time.”
Morris had the grace to look chagrined. “That mix-up with the Farley case won’t happen again. We’ve overhauled the entire intake system.”
“Glad to hear it.” She didn’t bother keeping the skepticism from her voice. “Transfer the bounty to my usual account.”
“Already being processed.” Morris took custody of Rourke, who cast one final, measuring look at Thora before being led away.
“See you around, Halliwell,” Rourke called over his shoulder.
“Not if I see you first,” she muttered, brushing her hands together as if wiping away the entire encounter.