Proper Thieves by Smith Luke CJ

Author:Smith, Luke CJ
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 7th Titan Press
Published: 2018-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

Devan

The gong rang in the arena. The undercard was ready to begin, and so was Devan’s plan.

Devan slipped away to the comfort room, leaving Allister to man the drink station by himself. As soon as he arrived, he checked his wig and beard in the mirror. The fake beards were pointless, but they seemed to make Allister feel better. His reasoning was that Phaedra had likely told the guards what they all looked like, and the beards would throw them off the trail. Devan had tried to explain that there was nothing stopping Phaedra from pulling aside a guard the night of the job and telling them to look for two servers with beards, but Allister would not be swayed. Beards he would have, so beards they did find.

Devan didn't mind, of course. It was a minor addition to the plan. Checking himself once more in the mirror, he slicked back his prosthetic mustache with his thumb. In deep cover. Wearing a disguise. Just minutes before the biggest heist in recorded history. Devan smirked at his reflection and thought to himself, Could this be any more perfect?

Exactly on cue, the door to the comfort room opened and Tolem walked in with a crowd of other patrons. Even though he was expecting his uncle, Devan’s stomach clenched at the sight of him. They’d barely been in the same room since that ugly night a week prior. Since then, Tolem had returned to their suite only to sleep, and they’d spoken only as much as they needed to finalize the plan.

Tolem was carrying Allister’s toiletries case—their 'bomb.' The two locked eyes in the mirror, for a moment. Devan tried to keep his expression impassive. In the end, he went back to primping his beard.

Other patrons hurried around the two of them, all of them anxious to get out to their seats before the preliminary matches began. As the crowd thinned, Tolem crossed the comfort room floor and set the case on the counter, a few feet down from Devan. With exaggerated caution, Tolem looked to the left, looked to the right, then looked down to open the latch on the case.

He cracked the lid just a hair, and the radiance within lit up their corner of the room. It was a show just for Devan—Devan and any passersby who might be watching them. Devan looked over. Tolem caught his gaze.

The look in Tolem's eye spoke volumes: grim fatalism, disappointment, fear. “Let's get this huge fucking mistake over and done with,” Tolem's eyes seemed to say.

Seeing that, Devan stiffened, his eyes narrowed. You fucking snob, he wanted to say. You fucking coward, with your small-minded arrogance. You don’t deserve to be a part of this. When this is all done, the best part will be laughing in your stupid, stupid face.

But then Devan relaxed his face, and he fixed his smirk—that smirk—on his uncle. “Say, pally,” he asked, loudly, gregariously. “Whatcha got there?”

Tolem glared at Devan. Quickly, wordlessly, he closed the suitcase again and headed back toward the gaming hall.

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