Page 51 of A Thief Among Fae

At least someone’s not snubbing me.

He smiles ear to ear as he leads me to the kitchen, where a burly man is laughing in mid-conversation with Maeve. He has pale freckled skin and strawberry-blond hair, ears with a subtle point, and his irises are wide and dark, suggesting a goblin ancestry.

“This is Nikolai, our ward-maker,” Finnian says, patting him on the shoulder. “Nikolai, this is Cyn. She’s Desmond’s newest recruit.”

“Nice to meet you.” I hold my hand out. Nikolai shakes it. His grip is a little loose, but his smile is wide and merry.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says. “I just returned from a job, but I’m only staying until the end of the day. Just long enough to catch up with everyone and get my next assignment.”

Maeve says, “We always wish you’d stay longer. It’s fun having another opponent to bust in darts.” A confident smirk dimples her cheeks.

Finnian elbows Nikolai’s ribs, making the other man shift with a laugh. “Nikolai here has children to support, unlike the rest of us. Poor fellow.”

Nikolai rolls his eyes, but he’s still grinning. “I wouldn’t trade all the riches in the world for Matilda and the girls. It’s been too long since I’ve seen them. Besides, the ‘poor fellow’ was you, Finnian, last time we talked about you-know-who.”

Finnian tenses, his shoulders curving inward. “I deserved it. I don’t deserve her,” he says with sudden melancholy.

Deserve who? Is he romantically interested in someone? I open my mouth to ask, but Finnian clears his throat. “I made these for your girls,” he says. “The puppy for Sofie and the mouse for Lucia.” He gives Nikolai two palm-sized stuffed animals, complete with Finnian’s wonky hand-sewn seams. “What do you think, Cyn?”

“They’re, umm, very thoughtful,” I fumble, tacking on a nod at the end.

Leaning forward to look, Maeve is smart to hide her dubious expression by taking a swig of her juice.

Nikolai pockets them with a smile. “These are darling. The girls will cherish them.”

It’s a good thing humans can lie.

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring your girls around sometime?” Maeve asks Nikolai, hopefulness in her voice. “I’d love to watch them again.”

Nikolai shakes his head. “Matilda doesn’t want them to garner an interest in their father’s profession.” He turns to me, missing Maeve’s crestfallen dip of her head. “Are you liking the guild, Cyn? We’re an odd lot with a perilous occupation, but we love it. And we’re thicker than thieves.” He chuckles at that. “If you impress Rune, I’m sure he’d let you become one of us.”

“It’s not quite that easy,” Finnian interjects. “First there’s the initiation heist. Then the pledge. And you have to fit in. We’ve known her for less than a day, Nik. She’s Desmond’s recruit, not ours.”

Winking, Nikolai asks, “And how long was it that you took a liking to our last recruit?” He ignores Finnian’s blustering and faces me again. “Really, think about it.”

The idea of becoming a thieves’ guild member is ridiculous. I may be a tomb raider, but I can’t stomach the thought of stealing from the living. Nor would I choose to work for someone as sly and unscrupulous as Rune Erickson.

“No, I shouldn’t,” I answer. “There’s somewhere I need to go after we raid Olin’s tomb.” The swinging sign marking the adventurers’ guild headquarters flits through my mind. At least their ventures are legal.

Nikolai claps me on the back, but it’s as gentle as his smile. “I understand. It’s not the life for everyone. If you ever change your mind, let me know, and I’ll put in a good word with the boss. You look like someone who could use a place to belong.”

His words echo within me as I excuse myself. Someone who could use a place to belong. They fall back into their easy banter, and I wonder how he could possibly know.

A rhythm of claps and thuds echoes from inside the training room as I push the door open. The smoky aroma from the oil lamps greets me, along with the sharp scent of sweat and worn leather. As my gaze falls on Desmond, I stop in the doorway.

He’s on the floor, a firm mat unrolled beneath him. His palms slam against the mat with every push-up, but my lips fall open when he claps at the height of every repetition, as if he refuses to obey gravity. The bulging muscles of his upper arms stretch and contract, and the firm, diamond-shaped plane of his back squeezes with every steadfast exhale. A sheen of sweat glows on his scarred skin, a strangely intimate sight that flushes my cheeks.

After the final push-up, he doesn’t even pause for breath. He pushes himself to his feet, reaches for a pitcher on the chair beside him, and tips his chin up. Cold water spills down his hair and face, tracing paths along his neck. Rivulets run down the sharp valley of his collarbone to the flexed planes of his chest, following every contour like lines on a map. The drops gather on the dark trail of hair below his stomach, and he wipes them off with a towel that he then folds over the back of the chair.

When his gaze snaps on mine, I have to remind myself to breathe.

“You’re late,” he says.

I force my throat to work. “Finnian introduced me to Nikolai. He’s nice. Everyone here is. You’d think they were a hospitality guild instead of thieves.” I pause as I approach him. “Everyone except for you and Auri, anyway.” Luckily, she’s nowhere in sight.

Amusement flits across Desmond’s face. “It pays to be welcoming when most of their business comes from contracts like the one I made with them. Auri is slow to warm up to anyone. You have to earn her respect. As for myself. . .” He strides toward me and assesses me from head to toe with a focus that makes me shiver. “Haven’t I been nice? That doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you.”

“Good. I want to learn.” Once the words are out of my mouth, I realize how much I mean them. I was too close to losing against the draugr wight, too close to losing Evie. I can use every lesson Desmond has to offer. What he said yesterday echoes as a promise within me. A Gift is defined by how you use it. Power isn’t born. It’s made.