Baker Thief

by Claudie Arseneault

  Which good police work should do, but Adèle had experienced first-hand how untrustworthy the justice system could be. “We can back you up. Koyani’s unit is not your regular police team.”

  “I don’t trust them,” Claire said. “This… all of this reeks of corrupted money and power, and I’ve yet to find a uniformed person that could be called an ally to our community.”

  Adèle slunk deeper into her pillows, unwilling to argue with Claire about methods. She had good points, and the kind of trust required by an alliance with Koyani’s team was not something she could demand from Claire. “Will you tell me what you discover, at least, or should I expect you to vanish once more?”

  Claire hesitated. Perhaps she’d never planned to include Adèle in her quest and had only come to check on her. Why put your faith in the officer who’d threatened to arrest you twice already? Adèle doubted Claire would want to get involved with someone who’d tried to shoot her knees on their first encounter.

  “I… I think I will,” Claire said at length. “There’s a lot I’d like to tell you.”

  Her voice had softened, full of secrets and withheld words. Adèle bit back a scream of frustration. She knew thousands of thoughts lay below the surface, layers upon layers that Claire kept to herself, and Adèle wished she could learn them all. Her intense desire to delve deeper in Claire’s mind took her by surprise. When had caring replaced her anger this thoroughly? Claire had broken into Adèle’s home to save a person, who’d been transformed into a gem, and Adèle found the crime instantly forgiven.

  “I’ll be ready to hear it whenever you want to share,” she said.

  Claire’s smile returned, and once again her entire stance changed, going from tense and closed to casual and welcoming. “Thank you. With luck, it will be sooner rather than later. Keep your wits sharp, Madame l’Officier!”

  She didn’t give Adèle time to answer, slapping a grin on her face, turning heels and striding out. Exiting with the same confident carelessness she’d shown entering. Only this time, Adèle saw through Claire’s posturing. No assured walk or grand cape gesture would ever cover the deeply caring and exhausted woman underneath again.

  -18-

  SUR LA PISTE

  Claire regretted speaking with Adèle while exhausted. She couldn’t control herself enough, and her feelings had slipped out unwanted, a crack through her wall. Adèle had already asked twice why Claire cared so much about her well-being. How long before she wondered who hid behind the mask or how Claire had first tangled with Montrant Industries? Adèle’d been exhausted and feverish and still managed to understand the truth about exocores. How long before she pieced it all together?

  Should Claire tell her everything now? A part of her was dying to peel away the last of her secrets, but she didn’t have the emotional fortitude to face Adèle and deal with her potential reaction. Both of them were hurt and tired and stressed—a fight waiting to happen. They’d just reached a delicate truce, and she didn’t want to tear it apart.

  It would be easier to avoid Adèle if she wasn’t so dreamy, of course, but Claire thankfully had a lot of important fears to help ignore how her heart hammered. Something in Adèle’s long, pointed nose, in the way she bit her lip when she smiled, in the curve of her breasts and the muscular body under that uniform… all of it left Claire a little breathless, her lower body throbbing, her imagination requiring to take over. All in good time, she told herself. For now, she had an evil industry to destroy, and witches to save—including her sister. And for all that, she needed to find her friend.

  Zita was in the gardens outside, sitting around a delicate white table, having an intense discussion with Emmanuelle and Zuri… about exocores? Claire stopped nearby and listened, caught in their debate about magic transference, body survivability, and the creation of exocores. Doctor and scientist were working together to pinpoint the actual techniques, with Zita occasionally chipping in with the impressions her powers granted. Before long, Claire lost track of the debate, her tired mind receiving the words without analyzing them. When she realized she’d been staring blankly, she cleared her throat to interrupt.

  “I need to bring the crates home, Zita.” It’d be more efficient alone than with her friend, but she worried about overexerting herself. Her magic pool had only just started to regenerate. She didn’t want to empty it pointlessly.

  “Leave them,” Em said. “I promise to take good care of them. Zita told me… I know what they are—who, really.”

  Claire reeled at the idea of leaving exocores behind. She’d been their sole protector for what seemed like ages now, and it didn’t sit well with her to abandon any of them here, especially after everything she’d risked to save them. But she trusted Emmanuelle, and it would be a relief not to carry them across the city while trying to dodge notice. Claire looked at Zita, who nodded.

  “Okay. Don’t… don’t let me down.”

  “I solemnly swear on my husband’s head,” Emmanuelle said, raising a hand. “Everyone is safe with me.”

  “Thank you.” Claire’s knees weakened and the intensity of her relief surprised her. She hadn’t expected help, she realized, and was still calculating her actions as if she needed to do everything by herself. But she had Zita now, and Emmanuelle and Zuri and even Adèle. Their support stalled her growing despair. She was not alone. Together, they could do this. They could find Livia and take on Montrant Industries.

  Zita jumped to her feet and grabbed Claire’s forearm. “There’s something else. Can we talk?”

  Claire tilted her head. Only a limited number of topics would push the very open Zita to ask for privacy, most of which were Claire’s secrets. “Sure. Let’s walk.”

  They could have returned inside, but the sun was shining in an almost cloudless sky. Claire wished the two others a good day and started off. Emmanuelle’s backyard wasn’t as extensive as those in the Quartier des Chênes, but a large maple grew near a corner, offering shade for the bench underneath. A white bird feeder hung from the branch, and a pair of chickadees clung to it, eating their fill. Claire moved closer, and they stayed silent for a while, their eyes drifting from birds to the intricate flower arrangements around. Claire sweated under her mask; the hot sun reminded her of how unsuited to summer days this outfit was. She always stalked the nights, when the rapidly approaching fall cooled the air. She settled on the bench and took in the cold metal under her fingers.

  Whatever Zita wanted to discuss ate at her until she couldn’t hold it in. She stopped squirming and blurted it out. “Livia was with them, in the warehouse.”

  Claire spun to face Zita. “She… was?” Two words, yet her voice cracked and the cool bench vanished from her perception. Livia. Alive.

  “Powerful ice witch with a strong accent who disregarded the witch cuffs to stall Celosia’s flames in nir first panic attack? Sounds like her. Besides, she gave them her name.” Zita put a hand on her shoulder, but Claire could barely feel it. “Talk to Celosia. Ne’ll know more. It has to be her, though.”

  Who else? Claire’s head was ringing, and her heart filled with hope. Over the last weeks, the belief that Livia had become an exocore had grown into an overwhelming certitude. She had denied it relentlessly, afraid she’d stop searching and give up. Finding a dozen witches but not her sister at the warehouse had cemented her fears. “Zita, this is…”

  She didn’t—couldn’t—finish her sentence. It’d require pushing words past the lump in her throat. Zita pulled Claire into a hug, squeezing until neither could breathe. Solid arms around her calmed the dizzying whirl of hope. Zita’s news tasted sweeter than fresh brioche dripping with glaze. Not even the first batch of croissants on a bright morning compared to the warmth spreading through her now.

  “Thank you. Zita, you have no idea how much you’ve helped.”

  Zita laughed and set a proud hand on her hip. “I told you I could be handy. Should’ve taken me along for the ride from the start.”

  Claire grinned at her friend’
s laughter, the honest sound washing her fatigue away. News of Livia had been the coup de grâce to her grimness, and Zita’s good spirits instilled in her the energy she needed to fight again. She bowed and wished she still had a cape to complete the movement with and properly honour Zita. “I have learned my lesson. No more staying apart or bearing burdens alone. My friends are few, but they’re the best.”

  After Zita gave her directions, Claire turned away, light-headed and excited at the prospect of hearing more about Livia, of getting so near to her at last. Renewed energy filled her to the brim, and although she knew she should conserve her magic, she couldn’t help infuse her muscles, sprinting to the house and leaping straight to the second-floor balcony. Zita whistled behind her, and Claire dropped the enhancements as she entered the manor. Kind of silly to ignore regular doors now that she was welcomed in here, but it amused her and she needed that whimsy in her life. With a smile, Claire sought Celosia’s room.

  Unlike with Adèle’s, she knocked before entering. It didn’t feel right for Celosia. Barging unwanted into the other’s life had been a core element of her dynamic with Adèle from the start, and Claire had walked into her room without second thoughts. Not here, though. Not with an agender teen prone to panic attacks, who’d chosen to hide in nir room despite the bright day. Celosia clearly needed space, and Claire preferred to invade as little as possible.

  A long silence followed the knocks, but an uncertain voice did call eventually. “Yes?”

  “Can I come in? This is Claire. I’m the one who—”

  “I know. They told me everything.” Silence again. Claire leaned towards the door, trying to listen to the muffled sounds. Footsteps? A second later, the handle turned. The freckled teen Claire had seen crumpled on the floor stared down at her, large bags under nir eyes. “Is it urgent? I’d rather be alone.”

  Nir tiny voice drained Claire’s excitement away. Overbearing joy also didn’t feel right here, and she forced herself to calm down. “Kind of. I won’t linger, however, I promise.”

  Ne nodded and stepped away from the door, opening up the room to Claire. Heavy curtains kept the sunlight from coming in, and the very air constricted Claire’s chest. She cast a worried look around, then at Celosia.

  “How are your wrists holding up?” she asked.

  “Is that why you knocked? Here.” Ne lifted nir arms, exposing nir wrists. Dark red lines marked them, the same as Claire’s palms, but Zuri had obviously tended to them. No blisters spread across nir skin, and the pockets of rosy colour looked like long-healed burns rather than recent wounds. “Happy?”

  Nir aggressiveness surprised Claire. Perhaps it shouldn’t, after everything Celosia had been through. She shook her head. “It’s… not why I came. I was worried.”

  “If you wanted to see the damage the unstable fire maniac did to nirself, you should just say so. I know they’re saying it, outside. They’ve been muttering about me since I first panicked.”

  “Well, I haven’t talked to them.” Considering how concerned Zuri had been about Celosia, Claire doubted the doctor would utter those words, but she didn’t know the others. They might. The last thing she wanted was to question Celosia’s impression of how strangers perceived nem, though. How often had ne heard similar accusations before? Been blamed for a crisis instead of helped through it? “I wanted to ask about Livia.”

  “Livia?” Celosia’s eyes widened, and nir entire body language softened, nir shoulders slumping. Grief spread over nir face and ne stared at the floor. “Why? She’s gone.”

  Claire closed the door behind herself. She pulled her mask off—that, too, felt wrong here. “I need to know. She’s my sister. My twin. I’ve been searching for her.”

  “Your…” Celosia stared hard, then snorted. “You don’t look alike at all! She’s tall and stunning, with deep brown skin and eyes to die for. You’re…” Ne gave Claire a once-over. “Well, you’re kinda cute too, but not in the same way. Purple hair’s great, though. I love it.”

  After the initial surprise passed, Claire laughed. She would take that as a compliment. It’s not like she’d ever aimed to compare to Livia. “Yeah, Livia’s dreamy all right. We’re not identical twins.”

  “I didn’t mean…”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Claire moved into the room, settling on the bed, and Celosia joined her. Ne sat with nir arms apart and nir palms turned up, minimizing contact with nir burns. Claire glanced at her own hands. The golden glow had vanished and the skin was a lighter brown where new. “My friend told me Livia was with you, in the warehouse—that she helped you.”

  Celosia’s expression darkened once more, but nir cheeks remained flushed red. Ne was kind of cute nirself, with nir intense freckles and strong pointed nose. “I… have panic attacks. Once my brain takes off, it’s near impossible to stop it. It used to spin on itself, and I’d feel horrible and certain my life would crumble into ashes and everyone hated me, but it never triggered my magic. Not until they kidnapped me.” Ne ran fingers over the burn marks and stared at the bed. “I guess I knew I was being threatened. And their witch cuffs hurt so much. They’re meant to overwhelm concentration, but what does panic care about that? Out the flames came, but Livia…”

  “Nobody does ice like her.”

  “Her wrists won’t look as good as mine. She iced the cuffs to lessen the effect, but it can’t have been enough, and no one’s there to heal her.” Celosia threw nir head back and turned to Claire. “They took her three days ago. We never knew where or why they left with one of us. They said they needed someone powerful like her, and that they might return for me later. I hope she’s okay…”

  Claire put a hand on Celosia’s. “I think I know where to look for her. I’ll find her, and she will be okay. Perhaps not now, but one day she will. Leave it to me.”

  “Please!” A fierce expression settled over nir youthful features and ne grabbed Claire’s hand, squeezing it. Claire flinched at the sudden pain from her burns and gritted her teeth, trying not to show it. “You gotta. Th-they mean to turn her into an exocore too, don’t they? We can’t let it happen.”

  “I don’t intend to. Too many people are trapped in those gems already. I won’t let my sister become one more.” For the first time in days, Claire believed herself. She stood up and smiled at Celosia. “I’m glad she was there for you.”

  “S-so were you, no? Without you, I’d have burned everyone. I try to tell myself it’s not my fault—that they took away my means of coping—but the end result doesn’t change. I turned that warehouse to cinders.”

  Claire swallowed hard, unsure what to answer. In a way, Celosia’s guilt was as justified as her own over not saving the remaining exocores. She should have prioritized the crates, not Adèle, but she knew she could more easily forgive herself for the hundred souls than for her friend. It wasn’t right, but it was human, and she would have to accept that. “You’re right, though. This isn’t on us. We’re just… people with flaws, and we did our best. But they made this happen. All of it.”

  In fact, they were still making it happen. Somewhere under a research lab, they had a whole factory dedicated to extracting people’s magic and creating exocores. Claire didn’t doubt more warehouses existed across Val-de-mer, and perhaps even in other cities—an entire industry built on enslaving witches and using them as an energy source, hidden in plain sight.

  “I’ll put an end to it. Don’t allow guilt to devour you. The best you can do is continue to work on control and coping. People here will support you.” Doubts marred Celosia’s expression, but Claire let it go. Whether the teenager asked others for help was entirely up to nem, and she didn’t want to push it. “One last thing… Livia being my sister needs to stay a secret. Zita knows, if you want to talk about it, but it cannot reach Adèle. Can you do that for me?”

  “Of course. I-I hope you find her quickly.”

  “Thank you, and me too.”

  Claire wished nem good luck, then headed for the balcony, gaining in
speed with every stride. She tied her mask on as she passed the doorway, and Celosia had time for a “what are you—” before Claire leaped down.

  She cushioned the landing with a burst of strength magic and sprinted away, grinning at herself. Needlessly extravagant, perhaps, but she clung to her whimsical show of strengths as outlets for her good mood, and necessary indulgences to help her cope with the horrors of the last days. Besides, it allowed her to dodge anyone inside the manor and return straight home. Hope lightened her muscles, but her exhaustion would catch up soon enough if she didn’t rest. The last thing she wanted was to slip while she infiltrated Montrant Industries’ secret factory.

  * * *

  Three firm knocks with a metal ring heralded Capitaine Koyani’s arrival and jostled Adèle from her partial rest. She’d been dozing off ever since Claire had left, losing her fight to stay awake and continue unravelling the previous night’s events. Something still escaped her—she knew it—but she kept slipping back into half-sleep, cozy under her duvet and the reassuring warmth of Gaia and Sol. The two cats had almost never left her bed since arriving, and Adèle was glad to wake up to their grumpy, flat-nosed faces. Not that either of them could help her figure out what she was missing.

  “I’m awake,” she called, silencing how it had not been the case before the knock.

  Koyani strode into the room, and it took a moment for Adèle to remember she’d asked Em to send word. Her capitaine’s clean-cut uniform had vanished. She wore bright red shorts matching her prosthetic arm, a loose t-shirt with large white and grey stripes, along with simple sports shoes, flat and comfortable. The laidback outfit was a striking contrast with her usual sharpness, and Adèle’s surprise must have shown, because Koyani burst out laughing.

  “Some days I have a life out of the office,” she said. “We received your sister’s message, but you were sleeping when I came earlier. I did not want to wait for tomorrow. How are you?”