Chapter seventeen - Making one fall to your knees

A week.

I had a week to think about it all, from traps involving ropes to nets, and arrows. One might say I was a lunatic to do this on my own, defy the General and the duty I've taken upon myself to train as a Venator.

Although, I've always been one to defy. And each night so far, I'd snuck out with all the equipment from the weaponry room, careful not to be spotted as I went into the most prestigious jeweler's store.

I started to believe I was just as bad as the Golden Thief, breaking into stores. Even so, I took comfort in the idea it was to catch him. But rigging the place and setting down a jade crystal amid it all, done none of the sorts in coaxing him to enter.

Every day, I'd waited for hours, placing the crystal near windows, hoping just as the moon bared its light, it would attract the Golden Thief.

But no, the Golden Thief never appeared, and I continued because I knew sooner or later, he'd have to come.

Ivarron wanted me to bring the Golden Thief to him, yet it was an impossible task. He'd said he needed his blood, meaning that is what I was going to give him, and whether I'd set the Golden Thief free or not afterward would be my choice.

Except it seemed unlikely I would.

Leaning against the wall in the store's backroom, I position a steel quarrel on the stock of my crossbow. I hold it up by my shoulder, keeping all my senses open, and just soon enough, boots thudding against wooden floors cause me to swing in the other direction.

It's him. It has to be him.

I'd unlatched the roof windows, anticipating he might come through there. Keeping quiet, those same footsteps sound until it stops and sharp noises of necklaces and beads clang together.

I creep past the curtained doorway, and for the second time, I'm facing straight on at the Golden Thief.

Same black jacket, same mask... The raven hair that's short yet cascades over where his brows are hidden beneath.

A week I'd waited, but a week worth waiting.

The Golden Thief looks me over with the same mischievous glimmer that never goes unnoticed as he stands behind the counter holding the crystal I'd laid out atop a box of treasures. Other jewels and gold beam under the silver light of the moon.

"Drop it," I order, aiming the crossbow at him as I step into the central part of the Jewelers.

"I'm guessing the term until never doesn't seem familiar with you," he says, raising his gloved palms before me and dropping the jade crystal into the wooded box. "Ready for round two?" He goes on, grinning as his head motions to my crossbow. "At least I see you've taken my advice with those blades you had last time."

My fingers settle on the trigger. "There won't be a round two because I have already won." Solaris, I despise how at ease he acts. Needing a form of reaction, I fake a smile and continue, "I've set up traps so that if you stepped on a particular flooring board, you'd activate it." One corner, an arrow would shoot outward, aiming towards his head. Another at his abdomen.

He whistles. "It sounds like someone hates losing."

"I don't hate losing," I grit out, albeit it's a dreadful lie.

His head cocks to the side, and I figure he knows I am lying too. "Well, now that you have me here, what is it you want, Venator?" His voice an alluring tease. "To send me to the dungeons? The stocks so everyone can throw tomatoes at me? Or better yet, witness the queen sentence me to a beheading?"

"Quite frankly, I'd love all of those, but... I want answers." And your blood.

"Answers?" His voice lilts with curiosity. "You're here to question me?"

I nod, never once letting my fingers off the trigger.

"Alright." His side lip perks up. "Since there's not much I can do, what is it you seek to know?"

I shift, wanting to frown at how easily he's giving in, but then I'm reminded how there are so many things I'd ask, I'm not sure where to begin. I want to know why he can't fly when shifted or why he's immune to steel powder. All signs point that he has nothing to do with the new breed, and I believe so, which is why the question to leave my lips instead is— "What do you know of the Rivernorths'?"

Something slips past the Golden Thief's gaze; be it shock or anger, it's hard to differentiate. "What a peculiar question to ask, Venator." He's back to smiling. "I'm assuming you must think I was there."

"I wouldn't put it past you. For all, I know you could be over 500 years old."

"500 is such a grand number. Imagine how much I could have stolen if so." His eyes widen in humor.

My impatience burns through my hands. "Just answer the question."

"Why don't you guess my age instead? Make it a fun little game."

"I'd rather not."

"I'll guess yours first then." He crosses his arms, humming. "Eighteen? Nineteen?"

I'm going to pull the trigger sooner at this point.

"Twenty?" He points his index finger at me, but I show nothing. "Twenty-one—"

"Yes," I sigh sharply. "Now, will you tell me, or do I have to pierce this arrow through your skull to get my question across?"

"Are you always such a killjoy?"

My silence and raised brow are answer enough for him that he expels a breath. "Fine, I'm only twenty-five, so the answer to your question is no, I did not witness it."

Twenty-five, not even past the stage of never aging. He must have learned how to steal from his youth to be well known for it. "But you still know of them, that means—"

"I know the history, what others of my kind have spoken of. The question is, why am I to tell you, a Venator who imprison or kill us, something that has been kept in the dark for over three centuries?"

"Wouldn't you want to know if you were me?" Maybe I'm heading into dead ends. Maybe Lorcan is right when it comes to rumors. I keep hearing stories that it's hard to distinguish truth from lies.

"Well, if I were you." The Golden Thief chuckles a rich melody. "I'd first and foremost stop trying to harm such a talented thief."

"A highly questionable thief," I correct as my eyes wander over the mask alight with the night sky. "What is the purpose of that mask anyway? Anyone is likely to recognize you without it." His presence and amber eyes would give it away, but I don't want to say that.

"You'd be surprised how daft people can be," he says as I narrow my gaze. So, he clarifies with a sigh, "It makes me look good."

I roll my eyes at how vain he is. "Hardly."

"What a jealous Venator," he croons, rounding the corner of the counter. "I'll have you know I can easily make anyone fall to their knees for me. Man, woman... troll."

My throat bobs as my mouth becomes dry.

He stalks towards me, unperturbed by the crossbow aimed at his heart or how lucky he is to miss the floorboard where a quarrel would shoot. And If I wasn't still holding the weapon, I know he'd be just inches away from me, like our first encounter where he'd pushed his body against mine.

The tip of the arrow touches his jacket as he leans forward, and the edge of his lip slowly curves up. "And I thoroughly enjoy it," he whispers it like a soft stroke against my skin.

I grind my teeth so hard; pain shoots up my jaw. "You haven't made me fall to my knees and never will."

He cranes his neck, a suggestive look in his gaze of golds and browns. "Not yet, at least."

"You're such a pig," I hiss.

"And you have such a dirty mind." He backs away, chuckling. "Did you think I meant something else?"

I don't answer, blood rushes up to my cheeks at the sheer embarrassment, but I still manage a glare.

"I already said I don't involve my pleasures with Venators." He steps on the floorboard, but nothing goes off. Why— "I'd rather stop stealing—wait, no, that's a lie. I would never do that." He smiles to himself, shaking his head.

"It seems you might just have to, though." My smile is tight as my gaze darts to the corner where my trap had failed, but too quick my eyes are back on the Golden Thief. "After all, I'm the one who has the upper hand here."

"Are you sure about that?" His eyes shift towards the floor. "Why do you think I haven't set off any of your traps so far?"

What?

My hand almost slips off the crossbow as he chuckles at my expression, undoubtedly surprised. "Maybe you should ask the question of, do I work alone?"

Eyes turn to slits, but my pulsing rate fails me as he adds with a whispering taunt, "The answer is no."

And all it takes is one second for me to have the crossbow in my hand.

The next... patter, patter, patter, and it's gone as a familiar bright and orange fur sweeps past me, knocking it out of my clammy palms.

I blink, stumbling on the spot. My hands are still mid-air as if it was a force of wind that I have to bring my focus back. And when I do, I look at the Golden Thief, smiling with his hands behind him before my gaze falls to the ground.

"Sorry, Miss!" That same creature—a Tibithian—I'd chased the night of the Rumen attack, says with its canines peeking through. "But my friend here told me to disarm all the traps; otherwise, it could hurt him! And I don't want my friend getting hurt."

This can't be real.

I'm hallucinating.

He knew. He was one step ahead... Again.

My head snaps back and forth between the creature bouncing on its feet and the Golden Thief. My crossbow is at the far end of the Tibithian. Still, fury hones my spirit, and unsheathing my dagger, I raise it high enough that I lurch towards the Golden Thief, aiming for the face.

He doesn't react any differently. It's like he expected this from me as he twists me, causing the knife to fly out of my grip. My back is to his front as he brings my hand behind me and the other gets trapped when his arm comes around my middle. I jerk my head in an effort to hit his chin. Instead, I find that I'm looking up at the coolness of his smile, the one where he'd expect that surrender from us all.

"You really love the idea of stabbing me, don't you?"

"Oh, I dream of it," I answer dryly, fidgeting against him.

"That's quite obsessive of you, Venator." He breathes a laugh. "Have you thought about getting help on that?"

My lips thin with a flash of irritation as I lift my boot and stamp down on his. He grunts, but there's still an undertone of laughter as he releases me, and I spin to face him just as my gaze cuts to my blade.

I make a move for it, but the Golden Thief stops me as he raises a finger, shaking it twice before pointing toward the Tibithian.

Stepping back, I frown as the creature now has my crossbow, pointing it at me.

I'm not sure what is more shocking, the Golden Thief having been that 'friend' the creature spoke of that night or knowing it can skillfully hold a crossbow to my head at such a small stature.

"Teaching creatures how to use crossbows now?" I pant, staring at the Golden Thief's pleased smile.

"He gets bored." He shrugs, glancing down at the creature. "But you know." He strolls behind the counter. "It's impressive how committed you are to capturing me. I mean, trying to lure me in with a crystal? Setting up traps for a week?" Amusement flares up in his eyes. "It was fascinating to watch from the roofs, wasn't it, Tibith?"

"Very!" The creature nods one too many times, and my brows rise at the name.

"Tibith?" I practically scoff back at the Golden Thief. "A Tibithian named... Tibith? How original."

"Are you insulting my naming skills, Venator?"

Tibith gasps, his voice a child's squeak. "That is very rude of her, Dar—I mean Gold—Gold—den Thief."

The Golden Thief briefly nods towards Tibith before looking at me. "So, seeing as I have the upper hand." He lifts a few necklaces, lacing them through his fingers. "It's time I asked a question. What is the reason for you really wanting to capture me?"

"Doesn't everyone want to?" Some for the wrong reasons, Lillian springs to mind.

"True, but you're alone, I don't see you've brought reinforcements, and while I must admit your bravery intrigues me, it's also bold of you to want to do it on your own. Therefore there must be a reason of some sort."

I let my stare linger on him, deciding what to say or how to phrase it when his contemptuous smile is one I'd like to wipe off his lips.

"Shall I return another day when you have the answer?" He mocks.

My glare hardens without saying a word, and when he clicks his tongue towards Tibith, he grabs the jade crystal, walking over to the door.

It's then I blurt out, "Your blood." My eyes snap closed with a grimace. "I need your blood."

"My blood?" He asks, his voice causing me to look again. "Well, that's new."

He leans against the entrance as Tibith hums in agreement, his arms seeming to tire from holding the crossbow, yet he doesn't yield as he shuffles backward until he's by the Golden Thief's side.

"Why do you want my blood, Venator?"

Because I owe a debt because I want to protect my brothers, because... In some way, I have the need to prove myself. "I made a promise to someone I'd get it," I reply softly, lowering my head.

Though it may appear short-lived, heavy silence feels like it's going on for hours until he says, "Then I guess you'll have to break it."

My head shoots up just as he's grabbing the doorknob. The Golden Thief didn't sound harsh nor any hint of his usual mockery, but it doesn't stop my vexation flooding me.

"I hope you rot in the cells one day," I say, no hint of cowardness in my voice. His hand stills, as does Tibith.

"And I hope they make room for you too." He smirks over his shoulder before waving the crystal in the air. "Always glad to have an accomplice at my side." And once more, just like our first encounter, he leaves, this time with Tibith, the crossbow and with the heat of Emberwell at the door. However, he'd not used his powers to leave me tied up, and I'm not running out to catch him.