Heist Royale (Thieves’ Gambit #2)

Chapter Nine

Nine

The way I saw it, I had two options. One: tell these incoming whoevers the truth, that I did not steal all these things conveniently left at my feet and I had been framed. Or two: run.

One was never really an option.

I contorted my wrist. My meteor bracelet was tightly wrapped around it, but the sound of approaching footsteps spurred me on. My hand twisted out of the tangle of chains at the last second. I hurled myself through the door right as it opened, crashing past a jester and a guy in a golden bodysuit before breaking into a sprint.

“Ay! Stop that girl!” one of them roared. I kept pumping my legs, my train fluttering behind me. I needed to get out of here, but I needed that crown too. Like hell was Diane just going to take the W.

I skidded around a corner. Feet pounded the carpet behind me. “Hey, Chris, stop that girl!”

Who the hell is Chris?

Before I got to the ballroom, a bear of a man dropped into a tackle pose, legs wide, knees bent, right in my path.

So that’s Chris.

Still running, I hoisted up my skirts and slid like a batter between his legs. A few feet past him, I rolled into a crouch. A trio of partygoers sipping daiquiris from actual chalices cheered at my impromptu move.

“Run, girly, run!” One of my fans whistled, but I was already dashing back into the ballroom. I could lose the pursuers in the crowd, maybe, but after that? Diane said she was meeting the senator down at the floats. Their parade was probably about to start.

I needed to get that crown back before they hit the streets.

Ducking and weaving and twisting, I worked my way through the chaos of low lights and glitter and sweating bodies and rustling costumes. But the room was less dense than before. The royal court had left, along with at least half of the krewe.

So much for getting gobbled up by the crowd.

I attempted to hide between a tinsel-wrapped pillar and a woman in a hoopskirt and matching crop top. Maybe they wouldn’t see me.

“Hey!” a man called out. “That girl! In the pink! AY!”

Half the ballroom froze, and all eyes followed the man’s pointed finger to land on me.

Suddenly, the door was blocked by two more partygoers. Damn Southerners and their hero complexes.

A loud pop sounded overhead. The crowd gasped, then cheered. A sea of gold and purple and green balloons rained over us, flooding the room.

There was yelling by that technical booth, where a large string dangled loose. Mylo, a dynamic flash of green, winked at me before hightailing it into the balloon camouflage and away from the booth jesters, who looked like they were going to strangle him.

In the chaos, my instinct was to race for the exit, but I stopped myself midstep.

Fighting a storm of balloons, I raced to the balcony doors instead.

The parade crowd had multiplied. Directly below, lights on the floats burned bright, while krewe members fluttered about.

Holding on to the railing, I leaned forward to get a good view farther down the street. Past a princess float with papier-maché turrets and another that looked like the top of an erupting gold volcano, I saw it. A silver-and-blue float styled like a giant cloud. The queen’s float. It’d only be a minute until she was turning onto the parade street.

Too many krewe members on the ground. I wouldn’t catch up on the sidewalk.

Holding up my train with one hand, I got a running start and bounded onto the adjacent balcony. This one was empty. I kept running. So many Spanish-style balconies in the quarter were right next to each other, and jumping the railings was like jumping hurdles.

I didn’t stop until I landed on the corner balcony just before the turn onto the parade street. Everything was moving and alive. I watched the princess float slow as it turned left into the parade, veering close to the corner.

It was close enough to jump, as long as I timed it right.

The queen’s float was approaching. She primped her tiara and took deep breaths. This was my chance.

I took a step back, shook off any nerves, and bounded off the balcony.

I thudded onto the back of the float, breaking into a shoulder roll.

One of the queen’s courtiers, dressed in a silver-and-blue cupcake gown, gasped. She almost tripped over the edge of the float in shock, the piles of beads around her neck probably throwing her off-balance. Two other courtiers rushed to help her.

The senator’s dais was at the top of the float. I slipped into the small staircase at the float’s center, where beads dangled from hooks on the walls and plushies and plastic cups and scepters rattled in boxes. Ducking, I slid between the containers of favors and pushed aside the blue curtain at the top.

Her back was to me, but she was standing on a platform all by herself. The queen was fluffing out her overwhelmingly large skirt and primping, her last chance before entering the parade street. The tiara was planted firmly on her head.

Grab the crown, jump the float. Kyung-soon should still be waiting behind the ballroom. I’d just need to get back there.

My fingers were outstretched. The float started to turn. Right before the parade street, it was perfect.

But a hand wrapped around my wrist.

Diane had changed clothes and was now in the same silver colors as the krewe. In one swift movement, she twisted my arm behind my shoulders and pulled me away.

I tried to work myself out of her grip while throwing a punch at her. Diane parried my fist away, then executed a well-placed kick behind my knee. I doubled over, and she yanked me back into the curtained space. I guessed she was going to try and keep me under wraps until the end of this.

“Don’t be difficult,” she said. Something cracked. What was that smell?

She was bringing a knockout stick up to my face.

“No!” I bucked and squirmed, but damn, her grip was iron. I was this close and about to drop the ball.

Everything compressed into this one furious moment. Who was to say she wouldn’t just take me out while she could? I’d be unconscious and defenseless.

With a scream half muffled by the crowd, I kicked my foot out, tangling my toe in the fabric of the queen’s train, and tugged. It wasn’t much force, but it was enough to pull her weighty costume off-balance. With a yelp, she tripped backward, landing in a jumble of cloth and sequins right at Diane’s and my feet.

I punched my head back, butting into Diane’s nose. Her grip slackened. I slithered out and plucked the crown from the queen’s head, then made a mad dash for the lip of the queen’s dais. I’d jump onto the level below, then the street, and get the hell out of here.

Diane’s hand grazed me, but I slipped it and leapt.

“Stop her! Stop the float! Call someone!” The senator’s voice was an octave higher than the roar of the crowd. The float’s courtiers were jostled as it abruptly stopped. All the better for me. I raced to the back of the float, 100 percent ready to bolt over the back and into the alley where Kyung-soon would be waiting.

Ahead of me, Diane shoved through two courtiers, one of those knockout sticks in hand, cracked and ready. How the hell did she get down from the senator’s dais so fast?

I tried to skid to a stop, but at this point collision was inevitable.

Screw everything…

An arm looped around Diane’s throat before a gloved hand snatched the knockout stick and held it under her nose. It happened so quick, even Diane couldn’t keep up. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed into a pile of limbs and costume. Unable to slow down, I stumbled into the whole thing, only getting a good look after.

My savior, wearing iridescent white slacks, a tapered vest, and a trimmed jacket, looked back at me. Their face was a milky white mask.

“The hell’s wrong with you, let’s go!”

She spoke in French. I knew that voice.

She jumped off the edge of the float, and I followed, glancing down at her shoes. White boots, with silver and purple fleurs-de-lis shimmering on her soles.

“Noelia!” We simultaneously hurdled a crowd-control barrier, sprinting side by side. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Working. But I probably just got fired.”

She threw away a job for me.

When we were out of this, I’d buy her the prettiest shoes I could get my hands on.

“What’s your getaway? I’m guessing you have something near?” We raced past the row of floats.

“Behind the theater.” I rerouted us between the buildings, through a slender alley, and toward freedom. It’d be a tight squeeze on Kyung-soon’s moped, but we’d make it work.

“Here!” I raced into the back lot…and immediately skidded to a stop. Noelia slammed into my back.

“What…? Oh.”

Kyung-soon’s bike was knocked over, and in its place was a black SUV, the back door already open, and two guards, a man and a woman, with pistols out on either side.

“Hey.” Kyung-soon, looking thoroughly annoyed, showed off her zip-tied hands from her seat inside the SUV.

I backed into a fighting stance.

A gun clicked behind us, and I turned just enough to see a woman in all black bearing down on us. Noelia grabbed my wrist. “Not a great idea,” she whispered.

“Ms.Quest.” The woman guard used her gun to gesture inside the SUV. “You too, Ms.Boschert.”

“Oh?” Noelia’s knees bent just the slightest. For someone who was telling me not to fight two seconds ago, her opinion sure did shift fast when she realized she was about to get ushered away somewhere too.

“You couldn’t even get another SUV?”

My head and Noelia’s shot around. Striding toward us—well, more like being forcibly escorted by her own armed bouncer—was Diane. There was a groggy sway to her steps.

One of the goons snatched the tiara from me and hightailed it back toward the parade. All those hijinks for nothing.

Diane slid into the SUV across from Kyung-soon, complimenting her haircut in Korean.

Without much of a choice, Noelia and I piled in too, and I prayed we would all get wherever we were going without killing each other.