Wicked Little Tricks (Four Ways to Fate #1)

Chapter 1

1

I kicked an empty can out of my path with the toe of my boot, trying to drown out the sound of Braxton’s whining. For a six foot tall werewolf with intimidating scars raking down his collarbone and one arm, he sure knew how to complain.

He plunged his hands into his pockets as he ambled along beside me. “C’mon, Eva. It’s so much cheaper in Emerald Heights.”

“I’m not going there just to buy you wolfsbane. Next time I have a delivery, I’ll see what I can do.”

He looked over at me as a puff of steam from the nearest food cart clouded around his face. “But you almost never have deliveries for the elves.”

“Yes,” I said patiently. “It’s a good thing.” My mouth watered as we neared a corndog stand.

I stopped to look at the prices. I probably had time for a quick snack before I had to pick up my next package.

Braxton leaned in near my shoulder, bringing his distinctive—but not unpleasant—werewolf odor with him. “I’ll buy you a corndog if you get me some wolfsbane.”

“Get it at the market like everyone else.” I lifted a finger at the vendor, a young man who looked like he would rather be anywhere else.

“But it’s three times the price there!”

I took my corndog, then gave the kid some cash, gesturing for him to keep the change before I started walking. “Look, I’m not going to invade the elves’ part of the city just to save you some cash on what equates to catnip for wolves.” I took a bite of my corndog.

He fell back into step at my side, raking his fingers through his curly brown hair. “Oh, but you’ll go all the way to the Bogs for those coffee beans you love.”

I shrugged. “The goblins have the best coffee.” I took another bite as I stopped near some outdoor seating to face him. “Besides, I can’t tonight, I have a delivery at the Circus.”

His thick brows lifted. “The Circus? Why would someone need a delivery there?”

Why indeed. I was a night runner, one of the few people who could cross all the magical boundaries in the city with ease. It wasn’t as special as it sounded. I was basically a glorified messenger. When I’d gotten the offer to make a delivery at the Circus, I hadn’ t thought twice about it. But I was starting to get worried. There were no boundaries around the Circus, so why pay the extra cash for a night runner?

Braxton watched me expectantly.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said finally. “It should be a quick job, and I need the cash.”

“Or, you could fire one or two of the private investigators giving you a run for your money.”

I shook my head and kept walking, finishing my corndog before tossing the stick into a nearby trash can. “You know I can’t do that.”

I checked my watch. It was almost time for me to pick up the package I was supposed to deliver. At least my mysterious employer hadn’t requested my presence after dark. It meant they weren’t a vampire. But then again, there were things far worse than vampires in the city.

Braxton pouted. “Okay, no wolfsbane tonight. At least get me some cotton candy at the Circus. Purple flavor.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Purple isn’t a flavor.”

He gave me a toothy grin. “Well it sure as shit doesn’t taste like grape.”

Sighing, I checked my watch again. “I have to go.”

But Braxton had gotten distracted by a pair of female angelics walking by, white feathery wings on full display.

Shaking my head, I started walking. The wings were impressive. Just like Braxton’s size and air of wolfishness was impressive, making him an excellent set of muscles for hire.

Night runners didn’t have any exterior traits to distinguish us, despite our celestial blood. My average size, light brown skin, and dark hair made it easy for me to blend in most anywhere. Going to the Circus should be a simple task.

And at least it wasn’t the Bogs. I might be willing to risk the goblin realm for good coffee, but last time the smell of goblin crap mixed with mud had clung to my boots for a week.

Worth it for coffee, but not so much for a delivery.

Checking my watch again, I tugged my brown leather jacket straight, then jogged off toward the Starfield Mall. It was a strange place for a package pickup, but my life was full of strange. As long as I survived and got paid, I was good to go.

I spotted the lights of the mall well before I reached the structure. The first of the vendors started outside in little huts with umbrellas, shaded from the murky sun. They were mostly a mixture of humans with goblin blood, or vice versa, selling cheap crap that wouldn’t pass muster in the more expensive shops inside.

I walked past them, ignoring their calls and heading straight for an outdoor escalator that would bring me to the second story. That was where I was supposed to pick up the package—next to the pretzel stand of all places.

A man in an oversized coat stood too close to me the entire ride up, making me tense. Or maybe it was just the constant tension I experienced since leaving the agency.

The money with the agency had been pretty good, but I made three times as much going solo. The only thing was, I’d given up the agency’s client screening process, as well as the layer of protection they offered. If someone harmed a messenger, the agency could and would retaliate.

The arduous ride ended, and I hopped off the escalator and strode into the mall. My heavy boots made annoying squeaking sounds on the smooth tiles, but I was probably the only one who noticed over the din of conversation.

The place was packed. It always was on Saturdays. Normally I would never brave the crowds, but I hadn’t chosen the time, nor the location.

I found the pretzel stand, then looked around for someone waiting with a package. They shouldn’t be difficult to spot with most of the shoppers scurrying about like their lives depended on a new pair of boots.

I hadn’t gotten a new pair of boots in quite some time, but that was neither here nor there.

A tall woman who probably had some troll heritage—judging by how many shopping bags she was able to carry at once—moved out of the way to reveal an even taller man in a stone gray suit. He wore a matching gray hat, the brim pulled low enough that with his sunglasses, I could barely see his face.

It was hard to tell with the shades, but I thought he might be looking at me, and in his hands was a small parcel wrapped in brown paper.

I approached, sensing a strange aura about him as I neared.

That’s the thing about night runners—we don’t have much magic of our own, but we can sure sense it. Another bonus of having one foot in other realms.

I realized why he felt so strange once I was close enough to observe his shadowed face. His skin was gray, and looked like it was made of stone. His tucked-in wings made the back of his coat bulge strangely. What in the five hells was a gargoyle doing in Starfield Mall? Usually they kept to the Silver Quarter with the Angelics. You wouldn’t know it from looking at them, but the two races had similar origins.

Feigning bravery, I stood squarely in front of him. “Eva Nix, at your service.”

The grim line of his mouth didn’t shift in the slightest. He simply extended the package my way.

I gripped it reluctantly, wondering why the gargoyle couldn’t just deliver the package to the Circus himself.

I had to give a light tug to break the package free from his grip, then nearly dropped it. It was heavier than I had expected.

I waited for him to say something, but looking into the dark lenses of his glasses was like staring at a blank screen.

“Alright, then.” I stepped back. “I guess I’ll be going.”

Still, no movement.

Weirdo.

Keeping an eye on him as I retreated, I shoved the package into my messenger bag, then made my way back toward the exit.

The parcel weighed on me the entire way. Maybe I should have been more suspicious about a delivery to the Circus, where there were no magical boundaries to cross. Night runners didn’t come cheap, especially when a gargoyle—or even a merc like Braxton—could get the job done.

My thoughts were washed away by the patter of rain as I reached the outdoor platform.

Great. Exactly what I needed. At least my messenger bag was waterproof. Wouldn’t do to go ruining the mysterious package before I could see whoever was waiting for it.

Pulling up the hood of my sweatshirt from beneath my jacket, I went back down the escalator, then started running. I would need to be quick to make the delivery on time and get back out of the Circus before midnight.

That was when the truly dangerous creatures came out to play.