Rune Thief: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Isabella Hush Series Book 1)

by Thea Atkinson

  "I would've thought a girl with a university degree could figure out a few prime numbers."

  She gave me a cold look. She hadn't been able to figure it out. But then, it wasn't just a matter of finding fractions and prime numbers. It was figuring out that the code was giving the order of the fractions as well.

  I uncrossed my legs. "That box was in the bottom drawer," I said. "Along with the Incan gold."

  Scottie smiled.

  "Indeed," he said. "And yet all of these men haven't been able to figure out what the contents mean."

  I didn't need him to spell it out for me. He wanted me to crack the code because he knew I could do it. It was why he held onto me, after all. Why he felt he owned me.

  "You used me to crack that safe," I said. "You sent the Lolly to brag about the gold, knowing I would break in."

  Scottie nodded. "Except you didn't extract everything, did you?"

  I shook my head. "I couldn't. I was attacked." I twisted my leg so that he could see the still healing scar.

  He winced. "We'll have to fix that. Maybe the same time as we fix that tattoo. Is it darker?" he asked and lifted his lip in revulsion. "Ugly, Sis. Not your best choice."

  He spun on his heel as though none of those things were important as I stole a look at the tattoo. It was darker. Enough to notice. But I didn't have time to puzzle it out. Scotty lifted the box from its place and carried it over to the table and laid it in front of me. Each one of the men craned forward. Whatever was in the box, they had no idea what it meant. They were hoping I would.

  "They all agree," Scottie said nodding in each man's direction. "We all agree that these things are valuable," he said. "Ancient, even. But what we can't agree on is what they mean."

  He lifted the cover of the box. Inside, clustered together as though they were coins in a leather pouch sat four small tiles. I swallowed down hard. I recognized them all right. The sight of them froze the words in my throat.

  He stuck a finger in, separating them from each other. "There is some strange writing on them," he said. "A puzzle of sorts," he looked up at me expectantly. "We need to know what it means before we can negotiate."

  That's why the men were here. They'd each seen these runes and none of them knew what it meant. But they suspected they were valuable, same as I had. Thieves had a way of seeing opportunity. They were all here to bid on the merchandise, based on whatever message I might find hidden within.

  Scottie had no idea what he had. None of these men did. At a glance, I could see that two of them were fake. After having seen and held the real one, I knew the frauds when I saw them.

  I put my hand in the box, lifted all four out into my palm. Yes. There was heat in the two that I knew were real. I shook them about in my palm.

  "Strange," I said, faking a sense of awe. "I've never seen anything like it. But it's definitely a message."

  I looked up at Scottie. I could feel the tracking mark on my wrist beginning to ache.

  I flicked one of them out onto the table with a clattering sound. It spun and warbled for several seconds before coming to rest.

  "Interesting," I said in a musing voice. I flicked the other one down next to it. Then the third. I moved them about with my index finger, clutching the heat of a real one in my hand.

  "They definitely fit together," I said.

  I could feel the tension in Scottie's shoulders as he stood next to me. I could almost smell his eagerness.

  My own thoughts were a confusing muddle as I tried to feign interest in but not knowledge of the origin of the small tiles in front of me. Two supernatural factions had gone to war over another tile. The question was: were both of their soldiers dead or alive? Which one would come for their loot first?

  The aching mark on my wrist told me it was Finn. He had to be the victor and he hadn't yet come to punish me for failing to bring back his rune.

  That had to mean he was in possession of it and thought me dutiful.

  So the real question was could I make use of that? I surreptitiously peered down at my wrist as I fingered the tiles on the table. I tried to muse things out loud, to make Scottie and the others think I was working out the problem. I wasn't aware of the things that I was saying. They might've been ridiculous, confusing ramblings. All I could think about was what might happen if I pressed that mark.

  The authentic rune in my palm grew warmer.

  "Well," Scottie said demanding. His tone was tense and harsher than he might've wanted. It was a good indicator of how much money he had riding on this.

  I looked him in the eyes, trying to disguise the butterflies he would no doubt see in my gaze. The tension in the cords of my throat.

  "You want to know what it says?" I said. I tried to give it a teasing tone. One that would make him feel off guard.

  He nodded. His eagerness was slick across his face.

  I took a breath, ran my thumb along my wrist. But where I knew the tattoo was by now without looking. I pressed the pad of my thumb into it. Held it for several achingly long seconds. All while Scottie pinned me with that gray gaze of his.

  "Isabella?" he said. "What does it say?"

  I thought I heard a buzzing behind my ears. I had one rune in my hand. The other lay on the counter. Bait, that's what it was, although no one but me would know it.

  My skin burned like a bitch but I held tight. The shadows in the corner of the room shifted. I doubted anyone saw it. All eyes were on me, and no one would see the cloak edge being clearly delineated at the perimeter of the shadows. They wouldn't see the wavering shape of a man take form. I smiled to myself. This was it. This was my moment of true emancipation.

  I held Scottie's gaze with my own. Toed off my high-heeled shoes. They were no good for running. Bare feet would be much better.

  "Isabella," he snapped. "Tell me."

  "They're authentic," I said. "And their message is pretty damn clear if you know how to read it.

  I tightened my grip on the one in my palm.

  "Well?" he said.

  It was in that moment that Finn came all the way through. One of the girls—the nineteen year old mistress, I thought—screamed.

  "It says fuck you, Scottie," I said. "Fuck you and your tracking chip."

  Then I spun on my bare heel and I ran.

  I was to the door when I heard the clamor behind me. It sounded like someone was choking. Scottie, I hoped. I imagined him hanging from Finn's grip with his feet dangling as Finn demanded his property. The women screamed.

  I didn't look back. This time I wouldn't be Lot's wife. This time I would be Lot. And I would run from the city of Gomorrah as though there were angels on the heels of my feet. Maybe there were. I didn't doubt any of that anymore.

  I slammed the door behind me and ran for the elevator.

  CHAPTER 35

  I PLUNKED THE TILE down on Errol's glass counter within the hour. He wouldn't recognize me, not without my blond wig and dominatrix outfit, and I doubted with his laser focus on my breast that he'd question the voice. He'd recognize the tile, though. Of that I had no doubt.

  "How much will you give me for it?" I said.

  He eyed me speculatively. I knew he was trying to piece together the sound of my voice with the petite brunette he saw in front of him. I tried to pretend that the last time I'd been here he hadn't tried to force me into the back room.

  "Doesn't look very valuable to me," he hedged. "A little piece of rock with Sharpie marker all over it."

  I laid both palms on the counter in front of him.

  "Cut the crap. I've been to the Shadow Bazaar. I know this is valuable."

  His eyebrows rose about an inch.

  "That's right," I said, nodding to indicate I knew exactly what he was about. "I know all about it. I know what you are. And I know what this is."

  I tapped the edge of the tile with my fingernail.

  "You do?" he said, but his tone gave away nothing. Very noncommittal and practiced. I expected that.

  "I know quite a
fair bit about you, Errol," I said. "For example, I know that you've been supplying children to Evelina."

  Instead of rising, those eyebrows scuttled down. He was pissed. Mark hit. It had been a long shot, one that I hadn't truly pieced together until I'd come back into the shop. It was gratifying to know that my brain was still working somewhere in there despite all of the post-traumatic stress it had suffered.

  "Oh, yes," I said. "I know about Evelina and her booth made of human skin and rather—what shall we call it?—tender product."

  I pushed the tile sideways across the counter with my fingernail. Now that it wasn't physically on me, I felt less tense. But there was no way I was going to pick it up again. I'd been nothing short of lucky to have got this far without some shadowy creature like Kelly announcing herself with a bolt of lightning and sizzling my insides. I didn't want to carry that risk any longer than I needed to.

  If I was going to unload the rune, I needed to unload it fast. I couldn't risk keeping the thing, and I couldn't risk it falling into the hands of another human being because who knew what kind of creatures would fall onto their doorstep, or what they'd do to retrieve it.

  I might not be one of the good guys, but I certainly wasn't an unfeeling bitch.

  That didn't mean I was going to let the tile go without a hell of a lot of cash coming my way. Whatever happened to it after that was the supernatural realm's problem.

  I jerked my head toward the back room. I certainly wasn't going to tell him that Evelina was dead. Doing so would only queer the transaction and he'd find out sooner or later anyway. I wasn't exactly negotiating in bad faith.

  "I couldn't piece together your reason for that candy counter at first," I said. "It seemed a strange mix of business. But after what I've seen, it makes the most sense. Occam's razor, Errol." I tapped my temple with my finger.

  "Do you see any children in here?" He spread his arms wide, but I had him. And we both knew I did.

  I thrummed my finger on the glass, unmoved by his flimsy defense.

  "I wonder what the police would say should they get a tip, anonymously of course, that you're a human trafficker" I said.

  "You're reaching."

  I shrugged. "Whether or not it's accurate, doesn't matter. All it takes is a little bit of doubt cast in your direction. You'd be under investigation. I'm quite sure you wouldn't want that."

  He glowered at me. "If you were in the Shadow Bazaar, you would know how dangerous it is to level that accusation at me."

  "I'm not trying to see you arrested, Errol," I said. "I'm just trying to impress upon you the things that I know. I'm trying to gain your trust. Show you that I'm not just some regular weak human walking in off the street."

  "All humans are regular and weak." His eyes lit up with the words.

  I knew he'd lost his power, Maddox hadn't said why. Just that it had left him bitter. I saw a tinge of that anger now. He was powerless, but he still thought he was superior.

  Of all the things I learned from Scottie, both good and bad, I discovered that you might not be able to change the way someone thinks, but you can use it to your advantage.

  "I'm not just here for money, Errol." I flicked the tile in his direction. "I'm here to make you an offer."

  He didn't try to hide his disdain.

  I ignored it.

  "I'm willing to give you the tile, but I want something in return."

  "How much?"

  I chuckled. "Not money," I said. "A service."

  I wasn't worried about him trafficking children to Evelina anymore. She was dead and he was nothing but a powerless incubus, but he did have something. A network I didn't.

  "I'm small," I said. "And I'm human, and I'm vulnerable. I need someone who can create some sort of spell, some sort of glamour that can act as a supernatural security system."

  He crossed his arms over his chest. "That's a tall order."

  "I'm sure you know someone."

  He was very good at not giving away his thoughts through his expression, but there was a glint in his eye that he wasn't able to master.

  I let my gaze linger on the small candy counter at the front of the shop. "I do have one other place I need to go today," I said and looked down at my watch. "One other place that can serve and protect."

  He gripped my wrist across the counter.

  "Don't be hasty," he said.

  I let my gaze trail to where his thumb rested, and was pleasantly surprised to see that the tracking mark had disappeared finally. Good. Things were looking up.

  "So?" I said. "Can you help me?"

  He nodded slowly, but a sly grin spread over his face. "I do. But you'll need to go back into the market."

  I wasn't sure the market existed anymore the way I left it, but I wasn't about to take that chance.

  I shook my head and pulled my hand out from beneath his grip. "No. I'm not going back through the portal."

  "Rough ride?" he asked with humor in his voice.

  Answering the question would only show weakness, and I wasn't about to do that. Not when I was almost ready to close the deal.

  He obviously saw through it, but wanted the tile enough to ignore it.

  "You must've gone through the blood gate," he said. "There are several gates in if you know the way." He inclined his head ever so slightly toward the back room. Interesting. I hadn't factored in his delivery method to Evelina when I'd taken that shot in the dark. Even so, I wasn't interested. I didn't want to ever go back there.

  I watched his fingers trail toward the rune. I laid my palm down around it.

  "If you want this," I said. "You need to make it happen now. I'm not leaving until you make the arrangements."

  "And what's to stop me from killing you in your sleep?"

  "Who's to say I haven't already met with that police officer?" I said.

  He blinked at me. We were at an impasse and we both knew it. We would have to trust each other if only for the short term.

  "I know someone," he finally said. "Wait here."

  While I waited, I picked my way through his shop. Usually, I came to the counter to unload merchandise and went straight back out again. The thigh-high dominatrix boots were a bitch to walk in, and so I spent as little time as possible in them. Now wearing the heels I'd clutched as I'd run from Scottie, I was a little more inclined to scan the shop.

  Besides the candy counter at the front, he had other, more age-appropriate merchandise that would account for the teen aged boy I'd seen at Evelina's. Video games and comic books and even a nudie magazine placed covertly inside a Marvel comic. I swallowed down my gall as I thought of those kids in the bazaar. I'd seen only the tamest parts of the place, I knew that. I couldn't imagine what other things might have been peddled in that place. What other services offered behind those doors that were locked.

  But I couldn't change that. And I couldn't do anything about the kids already lost. I gave a thought to Kassie and hoped she was safe somewhere. She was a resilient little thing or she wouldn't have been able to survive this long the streets. I had to believe that.

  I sighed audibly and crossed my arms over my stomach. The survey of the shop showed mostly books and the odd fake piece of merchandise meant to look like ancient artifacts. Some of the more authentic pieces were history based: World War II helmets and blades, the odd hand grenade. Clothing and hats lined shelves. For all intents and purposes, Errol's shop looked like it offered real service to those who were interested in that sort of thing. He no doubt had a robust business just from his regular fare.

  Of course, he was just one outlet. One doorway into the supernatural, according to Maddox. If Errol was peddling something, it probably had nothing to do with money. And if he supplied just the right thing to just the right person, perhaps he might achieve it.

  Maybe the old incubus was smarter than I'd given him credit for. No doubt he'd just conned the con. I just hadn't figured out yet what he wanted badly enough to make a deal. I had made a mistake. I was sure of it.


  I was on my way back out of the shop when I heard him behind me.

  "It's done," he said over my shoulder.

  I spun around, not expecting him to be so close. He was right on my back, for heaven's sake.

  "I changed my mind," I stammered out.

  He ran his tongue along the bottom of his mouth, letting it linger in the corner as he looked me up and down. Did he look just a little brighter?

  "This isn't a deal we can negotiate," he said.

  I inched backward, nodding, but not quite sure how I felt about it. "All right," I said.

  "All you have to do is go home," he said. "Everything will be in place."

  "And I can trust you?"

  He shrugged. "I guess you'll have to see."

  There was something off about him that I couldn't put my finger on.

  By habit, I got off the subway four blocks from home. I zigzagged up and down several streets before taking the one that would lead to my apartment. My feet hurt from all of the walking, but a girl couldn't be too careful. Never knew who was watching.

  When I did stand in front of the place where my brownstone should be, I saw only an empty lot. I knew that even with the landlord's fight with the zoning committee that an entire construction crew couldn't have demolished and cleaned up a building in the few short hours I'd gone.

  So Errol had come through after all. I heaved a sigh of relief and strode straight toward where I thought the steps should be. I hesitated, not sure what would happen if someone were to see me stepping up onto a tread that wasn't there.

  The moment the tip of my toe nudged against the stair, everything went washed in green. It wavered for a second and then steadied. I climbed stairs until I reached the top, and then I turned around to face the street.

  Everything was tinted. Somehow, whoever Errol had struck a deal with, had managed to place the entry into some sort of between worlds reality. I swung back around to face the door and clutched the handle. Solid. It opened the way it always did.

  It all felt very regular.