Heist Royale (Thieves’ Gambit #2)

Chapter Three

Three

Even at night, Rio de Janeiro is hot as hell in January. Or maybe it was just because I was fuming.

I don’t know how long I walked. Pointlessly, in fast, storming steps, from one snug street into another. I left the posh little area around our hotel and found myself venturing through the vibrantly painted downtown shopping districts, where banners connected the rooftops and vendors sold fresh fruits and travel photographers came to get the most exotic-looking pictures. At least, that would have been the vibe during the daytime. Hours past midnight, the city was slumbering. Trucks were packed up, vendor carts were pushed to the side, and only moonlight lit the streets. I wasn’t totally alone; a few people were also out for past-midnight journeys, but for the most part, it was just me and my thoughts.

And my phone.

Kyung-soon

Hey…

did you know?

IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY??!!

I made a sharp turn onto another street, this one with cobblestone sidewalks. A two-door car playing a muffled Saint Santi song, ironically, passed slowly. Its wheels crackled over the cobblestone.

Kyung-soon sent a GIF zooming in on some K-pop star under a storm of confetti. There was a caption in Korean, but I wasn’t quite at reading level yet. I’d promised Kyung-soon I’d learn Korean after the Gambit, and had been, but speaking and reading were two totally different skills.

Smiling, I walked around a middle-aged woman in a smothering wool scarf, waltzing in the opposite direction, who smelled like the weirdest citrus and savory perfume. I’m aware, lol , I added into the group chat.

Mylo

You can now be tried as an adult in almost every country!

I turned another corner, and a steady beat of steps turned with me. Curious. I pretended to stretch and glanced over my shoulder. A figure made a quick turn into a doorway. It would’ve looked totally normal if I hadn’t known what it looked like when someone was tailing you.

“What part of ‘leave me alone’ do you not understand?” I spoke loud enough that I knew she could hear me. Not that difficult, since she was only a block behind at most. Mom didn’t come out of her hiding spot. I rolled my eyes and paced even faster in the other direction. Just ignore her. It was a matter of days before Count whisked us away to the next job, and I doubted Count was going to allow anyone to follow us that easily.

It took her six months to find me the first time. Hopefully it’d take her longer the next time around.

Behind me, the steps disappeared. Fat chance of her giving up, though. She probably just trekked back to the hotel to wait me out. Guess I’d be crashing in the lobby if the alternative was dealing with her again.

A man passed me on the sidewalk. That scent again, citrus and meat. It was so distinct. Too weird.

And the same scent I’d whiffed off that woman.

My heart sped as I tucked my phone back into my pocket. I did my fake-stretching trick again, getting a quick glance behind me. The man, casual in plaid shorts and a brown T-shirt, turned onto a branching street.

He was with that woman who passed me earlier—the one in the scarf. They had to have been in the same place to get that weird scent, but they were dressed in totally different types of clothing. They were trying to look like they hadn’t come from the same place.

It wasn’t Mom. I was being tailed by someone else. At least two people.

Which way had the woman gone? Had she taken a right behind me? And if it wasn’t Mom tailing me from behind, then I still had the pursuer to my back. They’d probably just learned to be quieter after I stupidly called out to them.

One behind. One to the right. And if my instincts were correct, there was probably one other person coming in from the left. They were setting up to intersect me.

Four blocks before the avenue ended.

I kept my steps steady. My chain was begging to be unraveled. But I couldn’t yet. It’d set off whoever was tailing me from behind. Then the chances of me getting the jump on whoever the hell this was would be gone. Three on one, the element of surprise was going to greatly increase my chances of winning this.

The street narrowed. One block, then two passed. The narrow intersection was getting closer. That was where they would do it. I wouldn’t have anywhere to run.

Three blocks. One more.

I pretended to pop my knuckles, using the chance to unclick the ball of my meteor bracelet.

Three steps left.

Two.

One.

That same bizarre scent stuffed the air, this time twice as strong.

Let’s do this.

I stepped onto the corner and immediately ducked and spun out of the way. As expected, the woman with the scarf was there waiting to pull me into what looked like a bear hug. She stumbled, having thrown most of her weight where she thought I was going to be. I grabbed her scarf and yanked hard, pulling her totally off-balance. She crashed to the ground.

Her scarf: The fabric was padded. Thick. Meant to protect her neck.

Protection—against someone who might be prone to strangling people with her chain? They were prepared for me specifically.

Fast steps crunched over the cobblestone sidewalk. Man with the plaid shorts. I swiped my arm back. The link of my meteor ball unraveled. The weighted ball at the end cracked right into his nose, drawing a splatter of blood. With him distracted, I sent an aggressive kick into his knee. He screamed. A bone cracked, and he dropped to a broken kneel. I sent another kick into his chin, keeling him over.

With two down, for now, I braced to run, but arms tackled me from behind. Hooking a long forearm around my neck, this new attacker pressed a com in his ear with the other hand. “Bring the car!”

Headlights skidded into sight blocks down. A car meant more people. Not good for me.

I tried to buck him off of me to no avail, so instead, I grabbed one of his fingers and twisted it back. It snapped in my grip. He screamed. I grabbed another finger, ready to break it too. This time he pulled his arm away, and that let off enough weight for me to successfully scramble out from under him. Even with his broken finger, he tried to drag me into a stumble, but I sent a palm into his nose, buying me enough time to clamber to my feet.

The car squealed to a stop.

Run.

I meant to set off in the fastest sprint of my life, but a desperate grip wrapped around my ankle. I tripped. The scarf woman dropped a knee into my back. Before I could twist around, a needle pricked my jugular.

I could feel the woman relax on top of me. Whatever she’d injected me with meant the fight was over.

Car doors opened. The woman got up. My limbs were heavy. Drowsiness set in fast.

Well, if I was lucky, this was just another fake kidnapping.