Race of Thieves

by S. M. Reine

  “Do you need any—oh my gods!” She jerked back, eyes wide, mouth open. After she swallowed hard, she said, “You have to remain clothed on the flight, sir. I’ll have to ask you to dress again.”

  “Working on it,” he said. “Try knocking next time.”

  “I just...” She seemed to run out of steam for thinking of professional things to say. She shut the door and walked away.

  Cage pulled on the shorts before flopping into the chair.

  Vex was laughing again, but it was strained. “We’re both going to get thrown off the flight.”

  “I’d rather die with you than live with anyone else.” He put his seatbelt back on and fidgeted with the buckle. “I’m sorry I asked you to leave the house for this, but I’m really grateful you did.”

  Vex squeezed his hand. He shrunk down in the blanket.

  It was a quiet flight home from there—a brief respite before the last leg of the race began.

  Cage didn’t have as many backup plans as usual, but at least he had one plan: reach the ground and run like hell. It was a start. And as long as nothing went wrong, maybe everything would go exactly right and he wouldn’t need more plans.

  * * *

  Cage’s one and only plan was destroyed the moment he debarked in Phaethon Bay. Silverclaw’s niece, Kleio, was waiting for him in the terminal—and judging by the briefcase handcuffed to her wrist, she expected to get the artifact immediately.

  He’d messaged Kleio on the plane but hadn’t expected her to show up this fast.

  Cage signaled to Vex behind his back. It was a nonsense motion, a flapping hand, but Vex understood exactly what he was trying to say. Strange person. Don’t come over here. Through the corner of his eye, Cage watched Vex taking a sharp turn toward baggage claim. The Death Underpants were in the carry-on over his shoulder.

  “Well?” Kleio asked as soon as Cage sauntered up to her, grinning.

  “Great news,” he said. “I got us the Underpants. We win, I get the job, and you get to stay with Silverclaw Cult because you were awesome enough to recruit me.”

  Kleio popped her gum. “Great. Give them to me.”

  “Happily. First you give me the bonus money for getting hired.”

  “Uh, no,” she said. “That’s not how this works.”

  “Amazon doesn’t drone ship my weekly delivery of acorn brittle until I pay for it, and you don’t get the pants until you pay for them,” Cage said.

  “Why do you get a weekly delivery of acorn brittle?”

  “It’s delicious. I’ll bring some in for you to try once you’ve given me the money for the Underpants.”

  Kleio huffed. Her breath made her bangs—which were currently translucent fuchsia that looked like fiber optics—blast up off of her forehead, exposing a star tattoo near her hairline. “The contract says when you get paid. That happens on your first paycheck, which happens on the first day of the first month after you’re hired. You’re not hired until the artifact gets to the buyer. Did you read the contract?”

  Cage didn’t let his smile falter even a little bit. He hadn’t read the contract, really. Who had time for that?

  He couldn’t evade Gutterman until the first day of the next month.

  But he could withdraw a handsome sum of money from those pants every hour, for days, until he could repay Gutterman.

  Assuming he didn’t give them up.

  “I understand the payment schedule,” Cage said.

  “Great. Give me the artifact.”

  “That’s gonna be a problem.”

  Kleio’s gum fell out of her mouth. She scrabbled in an attempt to catch it before it hit the ground and failed. “You just said that you have them. You warned me that you would have them. That’s the reason I’m here!”

  “Things got complicated on the other side of the pond. You know Bastien Daladier?”

  “I don’t like working, but I’m not a complete idiot about my industry,” Kleio said. “Of course I am familiar with Silverclaw’s less-ethical Iago.”

  “You mean like from that old cartoon? The parrot?”

  She massaged her closed eyelids with her fingertips. “Some people get brains, some people get looks, some people get the body.”

  Cage broadened his smile. “You don’t often meet the full package, do you?”

  “I don’t often meet someone who didn’t get any of it.” Kleio put another piece of gum into her mouth and began chewing wetly. “How did things get complicated?”

  “I couldn’t risk transporting the Underpants personally. Can’t risk Bastien Daladier scooping our grab.” Cage’s thoughts went wild, like a squirrel in a wheel. Need money. Need the pants. Also need to get this job without dying. “Given the added factors, we should take the Underpants directly to the buyer.”

  “No buyer for this. It’s more of a gentlemen’s agreement. Silverclaw wants somebody to owe him a favor.” Kleio eyed Cage suspiciously. “You’re not trying to fuck with us, are you? Because if you’re trying to fuck with us—and I work with a lot of thieves, so you wouldn’t be the first—none of us are going to have a very fun weekend. And I’m supposed to go to Daedalus Festival this weekend. If you ruin that for me—”

  “I’ve got seven different Razors jerseys from the last fifteen years. I am not going to blow my chance to work for Silverclaw.” He was just going to make Silverclaw wait a few extra hours to get his artifact. There was nothing wrong with that.

  Kleio rolled her eyes and tapped her ear. “Uncle Claw? Can we set up a time to deliver the artifact to Lucifer directly?” She listened to her uncle on the other end of the line, then turned back to Cage. “My uncle says we can do it if I’m with you. Does it seriously have to go down like this?”

  “Unless you want me to lose the artifact and destroy both of our cushy futures working for Silverclaw Cult.…” Cage shrugged.

  She stomped her foot and whined, a hand over her ear so that her uncle wouldn’t hear it. “Gods! I can’t believe you’re the best I could recruit!”

  “I feel like you don’t like me very much.”

  “I hate anyone trying to make me work,” she snapped. She took her hand off of her ear. “Send me details for the meet up as soon as you get a hold of Lucifer.” Kleio hung up and headed for the hyperloop at maximum speed, clear plastic coattails flapping behind her.

  His phone buzzed. It was Vex, so he answered. “Are you okay?”

  “I called Gutterman. He’s willing to meet and clear your debt if you bring sixty thousand northcoin, or two million dollars,” Vex said.

  Cage did the calculations real quick. He would need to wear the pants at least six separate times in order to extract enough cash to pay Gutterman off.

  Six hours in another man’s butt-skin.

  “Keep up with me!” Kleio shouted.

  He leaped to join her in line at the station. “We don’t have to stick together all night, do we?” Cage asked, lowering his phone. “It could take a while to arrange things with Lucifer. Do you want to be stuck with me that long?”

  “You’ve got a point.” Kleio’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t want me to see how you transported the Death Underpants, huh? You’ve done something weird with them.”

  “You caught me,” he said.

  “Fine,” she said. “Bug off. But know that I’m gonna kill you long before Bastien if you fuck with me.”

  “I’d rather fuck with a t-rex.” Cage lifted his phone to his ear again. “Still there?”

  “Gutterman wants to arrange a meeting,” Vex said. “Tonight. He says you can pick the time and place.”

  The doors to the hyperloop slid open, and people began sitting in pods four at a time. Each zinged off with a happy sigh of magetech as soon as they were filled. Kleio was about to get into one when she paused, tapping her ear again. She must have been getting another call.

  “Hi again, Uncle Claw,” she said, jerking Cage out of line so other people could occupy the pod. “Imaji Nation? At ten o’clock tonight?” That was
only four hours away. After another moment, Kleio said, “Okay. We’ll see you there.”

  Four hours wouldn’t be nearly enough time to get cash for Gutterman. By his math, he’d need at least six.

  “Then I guess we’re set,” Cage said faintly.

  “See you at Imaji Nation at ten tonight.” Kleio fixed him with a look so fierce that he was surprised his skin didn’t leap off his body and shrivel into leather like the artifact. “You better show up attired properly. I have a reputation to protect. Don’t make me look stupid.”

  She slipped into the last pod, leaving Cage standing on the platform to wait for the next bunch. “Did you hear that?” he asked Vex, his hand so tight on his phone that his knuckles ached.

  “Imaji Nation. Ten o’clock tonight,” Vex repeated. He’d heard everything over the open line. “So, I’ve got a really bad idea. Wanna hear it?”

  “Tell Gutterman to meet us at the same time, and get as much money out of the Death Underpants as possible before we have to turn them over to Lucifer? Then immediately try to pay off Gutterman?” Cage asked.

  “It’s like you read my mind.”

  Including the part where it was a really bad idea. “Make the arrangements,” Cage said. “But one quick question before you go; What’s appropriate attire for Imaji Nation?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cage could think of a few outfits less agile than a corset and heels, but not many. Unfortunately, it turned out that Imaji Nation was a glittering drag club popular among the upper crust. Come as you aren’t would have been their motto if the club hadn’t been too cool for mottos. So Cage showed up wearing a corset, borrowed from a neighbor down the block, along with a matching pair of knee-high boots.

  He had initially planned to borrow a pair of pumps from his neighbor too, but it turned out that Vex had heels of his own already.

  “The chunky heel is easier to walk on,” Vex had explained. He’d gone through a glam rock phase when he was a teenager. Cage had seen photos of how adorable and glittery the demon had looked. He’d been hiding his species back then too, but he’d integrated his scales by using gaps in the gold lamé costume. He’d looked awesome.

  It was a shame that it wasn’t Vex heading into Imaji Nation that night. As with most things, Vex would have been much better suited to this. Assuming that he didn’t have a crippling fear of humans.

  That crippling fear meant Cage had to lift his chin high and strut his stuff among a crowd who could’ve been guys or gals or somewhere in between or nowhere at all on the gender spectrum.

  People were playing with species presentation too. Some golden eyed shifters were dressed in flowing sidhe silks, and it was hard to tell if those were real breasts or glamours underneath the gauze. Witches swirled through the crowd wearing long tails clipped to dresses patterned with animal spots. A horned woman was wearing fake wings—or at least Cage thought they were fake. She didn’t look like an angel.

  “I’m so jealous,” Vex said wistfully, watching through Vision. Cage was wearing a cape. It looked cool with the corset and gave him a stiff collar where the little eyeball could hide.

  Vision didn’t really need to be hidden. Imaji Nation grew weirder and weirder as Cage moved deeper through a labyrinth of stylized rooms. Witches juggled balls of fire among an ocean of suspended glass, while vampires sold home-milked venom at the bar. Weirdest of all, everybody here was openly packing heat. Cage saw a shocking number of guns and blades. He even spotted staffs that marked their holders as spellswords and paladins.

  “Nice familiar,” remarked the hostess waiting at the podium when Cage approached. She had noticed Vision.

  “How did you see him?” Cage asked.

  “Mandatory scanning,” she said. “We saw two life forms on you, so it wasn’t hard to figure out where your company was hiding. It’s not like you could fit anyone else in those snug pants of yours.” She winked.

  Man, she would not be winking if she knew what I was hiding under these pants.

  The hostess showed him to his table once he gave his name—the name that Kleio had told him to use. As far as codenames went, Amadeus Claw was among the cooler of them. If Cage hadn’t already had such a great hero name, he’d have been thinking about taking it permanently and pretending that he was Silverclaw’s son.

  A man was already waiting at Cage’s table. He was handsome and square jawed, with hair slicked to the side like an old movie star’s. He waved when Cage approached.

  “Are you from Gutterman?” Cage asked, extending his hand for a shake.

  “Seriously?” the strange man asked. Only when he rolled his eyes and groaned did Cage realize that this was Kleio in male drag. Looking like a human male instead of a girly cartoon character didn’t make Kleio’s posture less insolent. She still flopped around like a fish dying of annoyance.

  “Gods, you pull that look off,” Cage said. He yanked up on the top of his corset again, making sure his man-breasts weren’t going to pop out. “You really look like a dude.”

  “Well, this is basically how I looked for the first fourteen years of my life, so it’s easy to slip back into it.”

  “Oh, so are you a trans woman?”

  Her upper lip curled. “That is such an intrusive question. Rude.”

  “We’re in a drag bar, and I taped my pecs so that they resemble cleavage,” Cage said. “Can we really be TMI here?”

  “Obviously you can, since you’ve offended me.” She made a gagging, disgusted noise. “Not that it’s any of your business, but when I was born things looked ambiguous, and it took me a while to figure out my gender. I lived as a guy for a long time. My hormones can make me grow facial hair too. But I’m a girl, so I haven’t looked like this in years, except for special occasions.”

  “That’s cool,” Cage said. “I like your hair a lot.”

  “I like your fake boobies,” Kleio said. “Now, who’s Gutterman?”

  Oh yeah. Cage had asked her if she was with Gutterman at first sight, and he was supposed to be there for Lucifer. “Gutterman? Who’s Gutterman?”

  “He’s only one of the biggest crime lords in Phaethon Bay, that’s who.” Kleio sounded especially dry when she dropped the pitch of her voice to a more masculine tenor. “I guess the better question is, why do you expect to see someone from Gutterman here?”

  Cage squirmed in the booth’s seat. Normally he wasn’t this uncomfortable in leather, but normally he wasn’t wearing two layers of leather at the same time. “Okay, so I agreed to meet Gutterman tonight.” He cleared his throat. “Because…”

  He waited.

  Vex’s voice came over the Link. “Stall your answer. I’m researching Gutterman’s legit business dealings.”

  Cage was gonna be shocked if Vex found anything.

  “What have you got happening with Gutterman?” Kleio asked impatiently. “Like I said, I work with a lot of thieves. Nobody keeps their nose clean. So tell me right now, because this is the closest you might get to amnesty.”

  “That’s awfully generous of you,” Cage said instead of telling the truth, because Vex was still urging him to delay.

  “Any expert in being lazy knows that sometimes the best way to be lazy is to get ahead of the work. I fix this now, you get recruited. But if you get caught later having dealings with Gutterman, we both lose our jobs.” She leaned on the table between them, suddenly intent. “Come clean.”

  Vex began speaking hurriedly into Cage’s ear. “Gutterman refurbishes equipment for white hats. He sends proxies to those sales so he doesn’t scare the crap out of his clients at his warehouse.”

  Cage paraphrased Vex smoothly. “He was selling a warded flamethrower that works in the Middle Worlds. He offered me a good deal on it, so I’m supposed to meet his proxy for payment tonight.”

  “You know that we’re going to equip you with anything you need, right?” Kleio asked.

  “I bid on the flamethrower before I got your job offer.”

  Kleio shook her head, but th
is answer seemed to satisfy her well enough. She flagged down a staff member to order another drink. “Give me a sex on the beach this time,” she said. She eyeballed Cage and said, “And a mai tai for the lady here.”

  “I think I’m gonna have to go powder my nose before I can fit anything else in this corset, if you catch my drift,” Cage said, patting his cinched waist. “My drift is that I have to go take a huge dump. Huge dump.”

  “I didn’t need to know that.” Kleio pulled her phone out. She wasn’t even looking at him when she said, “I swear to God, Cage, if you fuck this up for me, I’m going to make it my life’s work to ruin your life. I’ll hunt you to the fucking grave.”

  “Cool,” he said.

  Cage caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd. Brigid. She presented herself as feminine as she usually did, though her makeup was so strong and her neckline so shockingly low that he could have believed that she was a guy in drag. Who but a heterosexual man would want a woman to show off that much titty?

  A woman who wanted to be able to distract a heterosexual man, probably.

  She’d come to blow the deal for Cage.

  He wasn’t surprised that she’d escaped her bindings. But how had she learned that tonight was the exchange? Brigid was much too good at her job.

  He stood and edged his way out of the booth. “Kleio, if you want to ruin my life, you’re gonna have to get at the back of a very long line.”

  She lifted her cocktail in a silent salute.

  Cage’s mind whirled as he searched for the bathrooms.

  The game wasn’t over until the artifact was in Lucifer’s hands. It wasn’t too late for Brigid to get the artifact from him and win the job, and that would be such a Brigid thing to do.

  “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” Vex asked.

  “Oh yeah,” Cage said. It was already a complicated night. Paying off Gutterman and delivering the pants to Lucifer without either crossing paths was near impossible. Add Brigid to the mix, and Cage’s chance of getting out employed and alive was close to zero. “Can you keep watch on Kleio’s table? Send me a message if Lucifer or Gutterman shows up?”