Maspan kept proving himself to be unfortunately capable. His security and employees communicated like a practiced team. There were magical eyes on the walls that she didn’t understand, but intuited were watching as the paintings blinked and swiveled. Elysia slid off her stool, slipping into her jacket. Letting her magic out to play was her best bet at this point—one way or another she had to find those plans.
Elysia quietly followed her mark onto the terrace, awed at how cozy it was without the frigid wind or snow pelting her in the face. Past the perimeter of The Light’s terrace, winter raged on, but inside its bounds, guests enjoyed the magic of a perfectly pleasant winter night with stars twinkling above.
Staying in the background, she mulled over the few tidbits and images she’d managed to extract from his psyche. Maspan kept looking at his head of security with the type of suspicion that would have made most men run. He was nervous then—about the incoming game plans and possibly even her.She’d also learned that Simon hated casinos but loved money, and he was very, very excited aboutsomething.
Which made sense.
Given that the new game plans were being delivered tonight.
Elysia dropped her head back against the wall to better see the sparkling swaths of night sky. Thanks to the magic, she didn’t even feel a breeze. Gods, she could get used to this.
Eyes snapping back to Maspan, she observed how he moved from person to person, room to room, dropping a hand on a shoulder or a quick word with a grin, but he was monitoring. Expectant and cautious.
Well, he should be. She took another sip of her drink and wondered who would be delivering the new plans to the club and if the head of security was going to be a problem. It was getting late, and she wanted to get this over with. Dropping her drink onto a table, Elysia decided to move things along.
Strolling through the club, she grazed her hand over walls, windows, and doors. A new building like this didn’t hold nearly as many secrets as the beauties in her home city, but nonetheless, she let herself revel in the sly, deceptive nature of The Lights. All at once, she knew she’d found what she was looking for as the feeling of it hooked behind her navel, and pulled, pulled, pulled.
Unlike in Kava, where she had no control, Elysia now grabbed hold of her magic, wrestling it until her mind cleared a little, and she managed to slow her feet, only hesitating when her magic tugged her right back out the front door. Halting on the threshold, she almost lost the thread as her logic fought back against where the magic demanded she go. The twinge of fear in her chest reminded her of every time her magic had almost been the deathof her, but still she followed it out the door and away from the bouncer to the side of the club.
Her heels echoed against the smooth black deck. Stopping, she searched for where her magic could possibly be pulling her as she rested her hands against the railing. The hook behind her naval yanked, demanding she go up over the barrier and out into nothing. Fingers gripping the railing, she pursed her lips as she looked out into the pines. Her stomach clenched and she took an instinctive step away from the ledge.
She’d scaled rooftops and spires and run along soot and rain-slicked tiles. But no one would recover from a drop like that. She rubbed the still tender Reyez branding as she tried to talk herself up.
You can do this.You’re a mediocre thief, who’s terrible at poisons, and you’re not about to let down the only man who’s ever taken care of you.
With that, Elysia hiked up her dress, revealing several small blades strapped to the insides of her thighs. Twisting her thigh harnesses, she settled them properly, no longer caring if she had suspicious bulges beneath her dress. Climbing up and over the railing, her now bare feet rested dangerously on the deck’s edge as she clung to the railing behind her. Bracing herself, she let go of the railing, and took one terrible step out into nothing.
A soundless scream tore from her throat as she dropped.
Chapter 18
Elysia plummeted.Needles and branches scratched and broke against her body, slowing but not stopping her descent.
Until all at once, she crashed against an invisible barrier. Bouncing lightly, her body finally settled against the mesh. She allowed herself a few breaths to reorient herself and ensure nothing had been broken before heaving herself into a sitting position. The mesh net swayed with her movement, causing her stomach to lurch once again.
Elysia exhaled harshly.Maspan is a masochist if this is how he always enters his home.Coming onto her hands and knees, she crawled in the direction of a concrete terrace. No longer at the highest level of the forest, she guessed they were halfway down to the forest floor. She chanced a glance below, and panic surged through her, leaving her stuck and panting. Despite being able to feel the mesh netting below her, all she could see was air and the straight drop to the ground. The discrepancy between the visual and tactile information left her panicked with black spots dancing in the corners of her eyes.
Gripping the netting until it cut against her fingers, she forced her eyes shut.Feel the net, just feel the net.Eyes still closed, sheinched along even as her body begged her to remain glued to one spot until Maspan inevitably found her and killed her.
Thank the gods she hadn’t screamed. If she was lucky, security wouldn’t come running, and she was far enough down that she doubted they could see her through the pines.
Cool, damp concrete let her know she’d reached the landing, and she damn near whimpered as she pulled herself onto its solid surface. Crawling ahead, she planted herself against a curved wooden door set into the arch of a stone cottage. Breathing rapidly, she pressed her cold fingers to her face trying to regain some semblance of control.
Spine adhered to the door, she kept her hands on the surrounding concrete arch as she slid back up to standing. The world swayed, but Elysia pivoted on her bare feet to look at the door instead of the giant free fall in front of her before her panic could resume. A quick test of the door handle confirmed what she had assumed.Locked.Pulling up her dress, she grabbed a thin instrument tucked beside one of her knives and set to work. The familiar work of picking a lock soothed the last remnants of the terrible shaking, buzz still present in her limbs after falling like a brick from The Lights. Soon enough the door swung open, and with her mind clear and satisfaction warming her chest, Elysia entered the stone cottage.
It was a funny thing—but she had missed this part of herself. Maybe it wasn’t a skill to boast about, but she’d been trained by the best, and getting in and out of buildings, hunting for information—it truly was what she felt most at home, most like herself, doing. Quiet confidence hummed inside her. The last few weeks had been a nightmare of incessant, tumultuous, life-changing revelations. She had no idea how to complete a death voyage or emotionally process the expectation of becoming the partner to a death god. But picking a lock? Breaking and entering? She could do that just fine.
She scanned the room, thinking of the man who had raised her and trained her to be fierce instead of helpless. Who had givenher the skills and grit to back up her mischievous gifts. She owed him more than she knew how to say, and tonight she honored that.
Elysia glided to the office, careful not to disturb anything as she slipped through the small home. Her magic was silent now. Not a sound or tug to be had as she rifled through his desk, cabinets, and papers. Elysia slammed a packet of papers down onto the desk, trying to force her magic into guiding her again. But silent it remained as the clock on his wall ticked, reminding her that her time could run out at any moment.
Her heart picked up as she crept through the dark, refusing to admit what she already knew.
The plans were not here yet.
Her magic had delivered her to where she needed to be, but she couldn’t just manifest the plans out of thin air. She was going to have to hide and wait. Unsurprisingly, Maspan’s home was sparse with not so much as a closet in the office for her to hide in.
Gods above and below. She was going to hate this.
