Thief's Desire

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Thief's Desire Page 12

by Isabo Kelly


  Her expression never altered.

  Neither did his.

  She studied his face for a long moment then splayed her cards face up on the bed. “Queen’s Run,” she said, a note of triumph in her voice. Only two other hands could beat her.

  He glanced down at his hand then met her gaze again, never dropping his seductive half smile. “Devil’s High,” he answered.

  Her eyes flared wide and her chin dropped. “How?” she demanded. “That’s impossible. You cheated!”

  He chuckled contentedly as he collected the cards. “You were watching my hands, little thief. When did I cheat?”

  “You must have cheated. There’s no way you just happened to draw a Devil’s High.”

  “I seem to remember someone pulling three in one night.”

  “Yes, but I was cheating!”

  The outrage painting her features started Jacob laughing.

  “What’s so funny, you cheat? I notice you failed to mention being good at this game before we started to play.”

  “You never asked, little thief.”

  She crossed her arms under her breasts and stuck out her bottom lip.

  He tossed the cards onto the floor and tugged her close. “Now, what color dress would you like?” he asked.

  “Purple,” she said, still pouting.

  He grinned and captured her mouth with his, kissing away her pout and answering the fiery hunger her open stare ignited. After again giving his body a temporary peace from her seductive presence, he cuddled her in his arms, lazily drawing circles on her back.

  She ran one hand over his thigh, tracing the line of a long jagged scar. “How did you get this?” she asked, her voice quiet and sleepy.

  “A boar. During a hunt. My horse…tripped, and I was thrown into the path of the beast.”

  “Goddess! Jacob, you’re lucky you weren’t killed.”

  “Kevin happened to be nearby at the time. He took care of the boar for me.”

  “Baron Fordin?”

  “Um hum. It happened during a visit to the barony.”

  “When?”

  “Just over two years ago.”

  “Wasn’t that around the time Prince Erick tried to kill the king?”

  “Just before, actually.”

  Vic moved closer, nestling her cheek against his chest. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt worse,” she whispered.

  Touched by the feeling in her voice, he kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tight. “You know,” he said into the tangled curls of her hair, “you’re the first person besides the healer to see that scar.”

  Her head shot around to look him in the eyes. “Really?”

  He nodded, watching her face as the reality of what he said sank in. “Did you think I was lying last night when I said that I hadn’t been involved with another woman in two years?”

  “I…I thought you meant a serious relationship. I didn’t think you meant…”

  She stared at him, mouth slightly open. Jacob felt her heart pounding against his side. Then she moved forward and kissed him, conveying emotions she couldn’t utter. He hugged her tight, his own kiss willing her to understand the way she affected him, to understand how much she meant to him already.

  For a long time, he simply held her, not wanting anything to alter their mood. As quickly as she’d been able to move Tiya from his thoughts, she was becoming an imperative part of his life, a part he could no longer imagine living without. The two days that had passed when he wasn’t sure if he’d ever see her again had been a torment he didn’t want to repeat. That made bringing up the king’s request a physically painful act.

  “Victoria,” he whispered when he could no longer excuse further delay, “I have something I need to discuss with you.”

  “The second reason you came back early?”

  “Yes. The king needs someone to get into Tracker’s building, to find out what the magician is up to. I have access to someone who can provide a magic block, but….”

  She levered up on one elbow and forced him to look into her eyes.

  “When can you get me the block?”

  Chapter Ten

  “Victoria, you don’t have to do this,” Jacob said, squeezing her shoulders. “It isn’t an order from the king. Even the Hole doesn’t want you near that building. And, to tell you the truth, I hate the idea of sending you in there alone. All you have to do is say no and we’ll find someone else.” He knew he sounded desperate, but he couldn’t seem to keep his voice even.

  “Someone who knows Tracker’s men, the building, the magician’s face, the city streets?” She smiled gently. “I’m your best chance of getting in, getting the information and getting out unnoticed, Jacob.”

  He ran a hand into her hair, mentally hunting for an excuse to keep her away from danger. It didn’t matter that danger had always been a part of her life. This was different. He didn’t stop to analyze exactly why. “What about Big Charlie?”

  “I can avoid Big Charlie for two nights.”

  “Two?”

  “One to watch. One to enter. I know it’s unusual for me, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

  Jacob frowned, knowing she was right, and not liking it one bit. “I don’t want you to do it,” he said sullenly.

  A smile played at her lips. “Good. But I’ll do it anyway. When do we go for the block?”

  “Tonight. After it gets dark. If we’re going to go wandering around town, I want you well hidden in shadows.”

  “Whatever you say, General. Does that mean I get my clothes and daggers back?”

  “Yes, you little thief,” he said, slapping her lightly on the bottom. “And, since I won our card game, we’ll also be stopping to pick up that dress.”

  “Of course.” She grinned. “I never back out on my bets.”

  They stayed to the shadows until they reached the brothel. Vic wore one of Jacob’s short cloaks over her own black attire, pulling up the hood to hide her face. Strangely, she felt safe with Jacob at her side. Even out of uniform, he was an intimidating figure. Most people they passed on the streets kept their distance.

  The Flaming Rose was one of the more prosperous brothels in Dareelia with a flamboyant façade. Across the glowing red and orange roses decorating the front of the building, red-tented lamps burned brightly. Sparkling gold-colored paint flashed between the lamps, glittering in the light. Each window boasted myriad colored gauzy curtains, giving passersby tantalizing silhouettes and hints of the pleasures to be had inside. Vic had never met any of the Flaming Rose’s girls, but their reputation had spread far and wide.

  From one of the curtained upper windows, a scantily clad red-haired woman hung over a banister, chatting with prospective clients. When the woman saw Jacob walking toward the building, she whistled out a greeting. “Well and well, stranger. And how are you this fine chilly evening?”

  “I’m doing great, Fanda,” Jacob called up. “How’s your night?”

  “Slow, General. How ’bout coming to my room and speeding it up for me?”

  “Fanda, you’re a tease.”

  “Ha! You’re the only man in this town as would say so. What brings you ’round after so long?”

  “Business.”

  “Ah, so you will be helping one of us through the evening?”

  “Sorry, Fanda. Not that kind of business.” Jacob ushered Vic through the beaded curtain leading to the Rose’s common room.

  From behind, Vic heard Fanda tsking above the street, “Waste of a perfectly good customer.”

  She looked up at Jacob as she passed beneath the beads. “So you come here often?” She couldn’t quite manage to hide the jealous edge in her voice.

  He shrugged and smiled.

  She glanced around the common room, still frowning. Couches and cushions of every color and size lay scattered about the floor. Bright gold and silver tassels and stars accented the furnishings, most of which were of rich silk or satin. From the ceiling hung three huge chandeliers, their layers
of cut crystals reflecting rainbows of dusky light onto the room. The air was heavy with the scent of smoke and alcohol overlaid by a strong layer of rich perfume. Barely clad women lounged about the room, waiting for their next customer. Even as Vic watched, two moved to the back staircase with men draped around them.

  She didn’t have but a moment to study her surroundings before they were accosted by a large, gaudily clad, older woman with dyed black hair and garish paint decorating her white features.

  She squealed loudly and pulled Jacob into an air-stealing embrace. “If it isn’t the generous and lovely Jacob Marin,” she exclaimed in a sultry, accented voice. “What’s kept you away so long, honey? The girls have missed you something fierce.”

  “Good evening, Xanthia.” Jacob smiled. “I’m afraid this is a business trip.”

  “Well, it’s about time. Who’s the lucky girl?”

  “Wrong business, Xanth.”

  “What a shame. The girls are gonna be mighty disappointed. Again. Well now, and who’s this you have with you?”

  The woman’s eyes widened as Vic dropped the cloak’s hood.

  “Xanthia, this is a very special friend of mine, Victoria Flash. Victoria, this is Madam Xanthia, the foremost madam in Dareelia.”

  “Jacob, you are a flatterer.” Xanthia’s gaze flicked back to Vic and her brow furrowed. “Flash. You have a brother, girl? A gambler?”

  She grinned and shook her head. “No. I’m the gambler. Everyone but Jacob calls me Vic.”

  “Well, now,” the woman breathed. “Jacob, you’ve brought us a celebrity. Many’s the night some poor sot’s come to our humble house to find comfort in the arms of one of my girls after losing most of his purse to a young gambler by the name of Vic Flash. My girl, you’re the nemesis of every player who frequents this place.”

  She ducked her head and shrugged, unreasonably pleased to know her reputation had spread. “What can I say? I’m very good at what I do.”

  “Aren’t we all, girl?” Xanthia gave her a knowing, conspiratorial grin before returning her attention to Jacob. “And how did you two meet? Did she take all your money, too? Or did you come to her rescue?”

  Jacob’s brow furrowed. “Actually, neither.”

  “Vic.” Xanthia turned back to the gambler, enthusiasm making her heavy bosom bounce with the movement. “Did you know that Jacob here is one of the greatest heroes of our time? He came to our rescue one evening when several of our gentlemen callers insisted on service without paying. Well, of course, I can’t have that now, can I? But the situation was becoming violent, and Regina was already dealing with trouble we’d had earlier in the evening. Then in walks this hunky figure of a man. He took care of all five of those boys in a matter of minutes.” Xanthia smiled fondly at the King’s Own. “He’s been a favorite here ever since. The girls adore him. Unfortunately, we can’t get him to partake of the eager gratitude we’d so like to show him. He wouldn’t even have to pay.”

  Vic hid her chuckle behind a cough. Jacob smiled sheepishly and shrugged. The twinge of jealousy that had been pestering Vic since walking into the Flaming Rose dimmed and a trickling of relief, which she refused to think about, washed through her.

  “Oh, but enough reminiscing.” Xanthia sighed. “You’re here on business. Follow me.”

  She led them through a series of doors to a back office. The room was surprisingly plain compared to the lush decorations of the common room. Unadorned paneled walls, a thick maroon rug over a clean wooden floor, a simple set of mirror-backed sconces on the wall behind a simple mahogany desk. The scents of alcohol and smoke were faint in the office, all but gone. Perfume still coated the air, but it was subtle and exotic, tantalizing instead of overpowering.

  Xanthia indicated two large leather chairs before taking a seat behind the desk. “Now, what can I do for you, General?”

  “I need a magic block,” Jacob said. “One that will block a spy from any kind of magic detection.”

  Xanthia shook her head and pursed her lips. “We have a few on hand, Jacob, but they won’t do more than block a magician’s sight. They won’t protect your spy from magic if discovered by other means.”

  “I won’t be discovered by other means,” Vic said.

  Xanthia looked at her, then back to Jacob, a strange questioning gaze that Vic couldn’t begin to answer.

  At last, the madam said, “Very well, then.” She pulled a long velvet cord at the side of her desk. A moment later, a powerfully built young woman walked in. Two swords crossed her back and brown leather clung tightly to her muscular shape. “Regina, could you get Cecily, please? And have her bring her little black bag if you would.”

  Regina nodded, her face an unresponsive mask, and left the room.

  “Now.” Xanthia turned back to Jacob and Vic. “Cecily should have what you’re looking for.”

  “Thank you, Xanth,” Jacob said. “How much will it cost?”

  “Well, I can think of all kinds of ways for you to repay me.” She pointedly perused him, then looked back into his eyes. “But, as I suspect you’re bent on financial recompense, I’ll have six hundred gold kern.”

  Vic gasped. “Six hundred?”

  “Magic blocks are expensive.” Jacob shrugged. “And the good ones are hard to come by. Six hundred it is, Xanth. I suspect I’m getting a discount.”

  “Don’t let that get around or every young gallant in the city will think they can win a discount with a sexy smile.”

  Jacob grinned at the woman, then looked at Vic. He took her hand and squeezed gently, his gaze downcast to where their hands locked together.

  She returned his gesture, trying to reassure him. She knew he was still worried about her, could see it in the tight lines around his eyes and mouth, and it made her heart beat a little faster. Having someone worrying about her was enticing. But unusual.

  From the corner of her eye, she noticed Xanthia silently studying her and Jacob. She turned a questioning look back to the madam, but the older woman merely smiled as if she knew something Vic didn’t. Frowning, she loosened her hold on Jacob’s hand but didn’t drop his grip.

  When Regina returned, she was accompanied by a woman very close to Vic’s age. Her auburn hair piled atop her head in an intricate pattern before tumbling halfway down her back. White gauze and silk covered her entire body, but somehow gave the impression she was unclothed. Compared to Regina, Cecily was a tiny waif.

  The guard closed the door as she left, leaving Cecily digging in her black bag while the other three watched. “What do you need, Madam Xanthia?” she asked, pulling her face from the contents of her bag.

  She had a pleasant, singsong voice that reminded Vic of wind chimes.

  “Magic block,” Xanthia said. “Something convenient for a spy.”

  “Block from magic detection or from spells?”

  “Do you have one to protect from spells?” Jacob asked, leaning forward in his chair.

  “Nope. Sorry, General. Had to sell the last one I had about two months ago and haven’t been able to get my hands on another one since. But I do still have a few to block from detection. If your spy is any good, it’ll be all he needs.”

  “It will be all I need,” Vic said.

  Cecily raised a brow, her eyes widening, then shrugged and dug back into her bag.

  “Here we are.” She produced a small, round black onyx hung on a black painted wire on a black leather thong. “This should do just fine. It’ll block your presence from even the most powerful sorcerer’s detection spells, and the black leather should keep it from making noise or catching light.”

  She handed the stone to Vic. “Wear it around your neck; the stone needs to be near your throat to work properly. And remember, it won’t work if you’re detected by more mundane methods. All it does is blind a sorcerer’s magic to your presence.” She grinned as she watched Vic study the charm. “That’s a good stone there,” she said. “Be careful with it. It’s one of the few blocks you can get that doesn’t leave a h
ole in a magician’s senses. Might as well not have a block for all the good those kind will do you, leaving this big old black hole. Might as well stand and shout, ‘Here I am.’”

  “Thank you, Cecily,” Jacob said quietly.

  “Anything for you, General.” She nodded to all three and left the room.

  “Well now,” Xanthia said, “you’ve got yourselves the best magic ward on the market.” She stood and crossed to the other side of the desk. Jacob and Vic both stood, preparing to leave, when Xanthia placed a hand on Vic’s elbow. “Jacob, would you mind if I had a quiet talk with your young spy here?”

  Jacob’s brow furrowed, but he said, “No. I’ll be outside when you’re through. Thanks again, Xanth. The kern will be here by tomorrow night.”

  “I know you’re good for it, honey, so don’t you worry your beautiful head. Now, you go and keep my girls company, and I’ll send Flash along in just a minute.”

  When Jacob closed the door, Xanthia turned to Vic.

  The speculative look in the woman’s blue eyes made Vic stiffen, her own gaze narrowing. Her fingers twitched toward one of her knifes.

  “Now, honey,” Xanthia started, a hesitant note in her voice, “I know this may be none of my business, but woman to woman, are you and the general on intimate terms?”

  For a full minute, Vic stared at the madam and couldn’t think of one thing to say. She hadn’t been expecting anything like that kind of question. Heat flooded her cheeks, leaving her suddenly shy, though she couldn’t explain why she felt so awkward. She was talking to a madam, for Goddess sake! Too disconcerted to answer any other way, she blurted the truth, “I suppose you could say that.”

  Why was she embarrassed? It was her life after all and none of this woman’s business if she was sleeping with Jacob or not! Other women had lovers. And she sure as hell wasn’t the first lover Jacob had ever had. Maybe it was the other woman’s knowledge of Jacob’s reputation that embarrassed her. Did Xanthia think she was another one of his conquests? Did she care what the other woman thought?

  Was she just another one of his conquests?

  She pushed that fear aside. It didn’t matter. She’d gone to Jacob’s bed of her own free will and fully knowing his past. She accepted that what they had was probably temporary. But that didn’t mean she should be embarrassed about enjoying their affair now. So what if Xanthia knew she and Jacob were intimate.

 

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