Chapter twenty - two - A deal with the thief

Darius chuckles, staying in his calm posture. "Always a warm welcoming with you."

"Hello, again, Miss!" Tibith waves, drawing my gaze down at him and his round frame.

I'm doubtful whether to smile back or frown questionably.

It doesn't look like I can do either as he turns and crawls up Darius's leg and plops himself on top of his knee.

"What are you doing here, Darius, stealing one again?" I say his name tight enough I'd be pulling on a rope.

Between the shadows of the night and the oil lampposts littering the empty street, Darius straightens off the crescent as Tibith slides down with a slight noise resembling a cheer.

I'd step back if I didn't hold such stubbornness within myself as Darius emerges into the bright moonlight basking down on me. I don't let him see the slight jolt in my body at the surprise of him not wearing a mask.

Stopping a meter away from me, air glides the raven hairs toppled on top of his head and then falling across his forehead. While amber eyes adorned with black kohl liner study me in that same mirth, he carries around so effortlessly.

I always knew with or without the mask, his features could dominate anyone. The carved jaw—dangerously a weapon and someone lethal that summons power at his commands.

"I'm here to make a deal," he says, darting his gaze to my blade. "That is, of course, if I can get through a conversation without you trying to stab me."

With that, I'm reminded of his nonsensical ways. "You make it impossible not to."

"How so?"

"For starters, everything you say pisses me off."

"That's not a valid reason, Venator."

Whether it's the cool smile or the tease in his voice, I already want to swing at him. "Alright," I drag the word, biting the inside of my cheek. "You've played unfairly each time I've encountered you."

He laughs, crossing his arms over his jacket. "As have you. If I recall, you even placed traps to capture me."

Traps he'd known about for a whole week and disarmed them, making me look foolish— "That's different." I quell the anger.

"Different how?"

"Different because you're supposedly dangerous. I had to place traps to protect myself." I can't tell if I'm lying or not. I'm finding it hard to come up with ways to win in this conversation. "Besides." A small shrug. "I could have even succeeded in capturing you. It's just the first time I was caught off guard."

He narrows his eyes with a smile. "And the second time?"

My gaze darkens in irritation. "Well, you cheated there too with that orange fur ball of yours."

"Hey!" Tibith scampers up Darius's leg and up to his torso before resting by his shoulder. "My name is Tibith Miss!"

"I know," I say with a straight face. "I hadn't forgotten from when you aimed the crossbow at me."

"You aimed it at Darry first," he argues back, crossing his arms.

A loyal accomplice, how lovely.

"You know I hate to admit it, but you're somewhat special Venator," Darius says, pointing at me and then placing Tibith back down on the floor. "Most mortals fear me."

"Really now?" I can't help the snort smoke out of my nose. "I've heard a few that think differently."

A beam of excitement flickers in his eyes, gold turning to honey brown. He knows what I'd meant.

Rydan, Lillian, and even others spoke of him in whispers they thought no one could hear. To my utmost frustration, the words 'Golden thief' followed me everywhere.

"Well, some happen to be fans of my work," he says, taking out a gold coin from his pocket, tracing it between each leather finger. "But you." His movements stop as his gaze roams over me. "You wanted to catch me as part of your own efforts that didn't involve the Venators."

The grip on my hilt loosens. I'd branded myself as traitorous towards the Venators... unworthy.

"And after days of thinking it through," he goes on. "I decided I'd give you exactly what you want from me."

His deal.

"You're willing to give me some of your blood?" I ask, lifting my brows, doubtful since he'd told me to break my promise of ever getting it.

He nods to my amazement. "In exchange for something, of course."

Of course. My lips peel back into a wry smile. "And what's that?"

"Tell me why you want my blood in the first place, and then I'll explain."

I stay staring at him then Tibith, rocking on his feet and tilting his head to each side like he's also waiting on an answer.

An answer I haven't told anyone.

Several seconds pass, leading into minutes where I don’t say a word. My obstinance could be categorized as tiresome by now.

“Is she frozen Darry?” Tibith inquires with a tweet to his voice.

Darius makes a noise of agreement, looking at Tibith. “Would explain why she lost the first time against me, she’s always freezing.”

Oh, please.

"It's said,” I finally say with a sharp tone, prompting Darius to look up. “Your blood grants immortality if ingested. And a man I'd worked for as a trapper told me to bring you to him in exchange for—" I sigh. "—Freedom."

"Is being in the city and part of the Venators, not freedom enough?" He asks, and I understand why he says that. For a shifter, freedom isn't an option.

"Freedom for my brothers," I answer quietly, lowering my head before shaking it as I meet his stare again. But all there is, is silence slamming down a width between us.

He angles his head, and something in his gaze stirs unrecognizably. I speak again, controlling that firmness in my posture. "I've told you the reason. Now tell me what your demands are."

His expression is gone within a second as he gives me a knowing smile. "I want you to steal something for me. A pendant the Queen wears. I'm sure you've seen it on her by now."

I recall the faint memory of when I was training a few weeks ago. The queen had approached me, and the first thing I'd laid eyes on was a pendant of gold and rivers overlapping a compass.

What I question is how had Darius, a wanted thief and a shifter in hiding caught a glimpse of that pendant?

And as for the idea of stealing from the Queen... I shudder at the thought of failing and being thrown in the dungeons.

"Can't you do that yourself?" I bite out. "You're known as the greatest thief out there with immunity to steel powder."

He chuckles under his breath, flicking the coin on the tip of his finger as it spins, reflecting light onto his golden skin. "I'm not immune to it."

My eyes jerk wide in shock.

"I've simply taken it in my drinks for years now that I've built resistance."

That must be why many shifters are gaining confidence with attacks. Maybe it'd been Darius showing them that resistance.

"But even then—" He catches the coin in his glove mid-air. "—It's more thrilling to see you steal it rather than me."

I glower at his grin. He's giving me an impossible task, much like Ivarron had done. "Why is it you wish to steal that precise pendant?"

His brows rise slightly like I'd said the most ridiculous thing out there. "Are you really questioning a thief as to why they want that stolen?"

"Good point," I expel a sharp breath. "So, if I get this pendant—which is a dreadful mission you are tasking me with by the way."

"It is."

I shoot his mockery an exasperating look. "You will give me a vial of your blood?"

"Vial, jar..." A thoughtless motion of his hand. "Whatever pleases you."

I pinch my lips together, narrowing my gaze at him with the thought sinking into my mind. Get the pendant and I get his blood in exchange.

Another task I can't believe I'm getting myself into.

"Then," I take a deep breath. "I'll have that pendant within reach soon enough." My voice gives nothing away, whether I believe I can do it or not or whether I believe him.

And strutting past while itching to get away, he grasps my forearm. The side of my body hits against his despite the grip on my blade. "Hang on." His voice is almost a whisper by the side of my head, I can practically feel him smiling against it. "You know my name. It's only fair I get to know yours now."

Slowly looking up at the closeness of his eyes glittering like golden stars, I pluck my arm from his hand, detesting the thought of even giving him my name. He backs away, and the insufferable mischief in his countenance makes me think of a nickname I'd once given to my father's mare. "Misty," I exhale.

"Misty?" Darius repeats, quirking a brow. I nod. "Who named you, your father?"

"No." I glare at his always brazen-faced expression. "My mother."

"You don't look like a Misty."

"And what do I look like then?"

He hums in thought, circling me slowly and pursing his lips as he starts naming things then murmuring to himself whether he likes it or not.

I tap my foot, tiring of his wits when— "Goldie." Rubble from the ground scrapes as he drags his boot across the floor to a stop. His smile, entrancing and all, slowly appears as he says, "I think you look like a Goldie. Wouldn't you agree, Tibith?"

"Goldie, Goldie, Goldie!" Tibith sings before gasping. "Just like her hair Darry!"

"Exactly like her hair," he murmurs.

"Are we done here?" I ask flatly, impatient, infuriated.

He steps aside, extending his hand out to lead the way and bowing at the waist with that grace he'd held since the moment we met.

I make sure to lift the dagger in his line of sight, not intending to retreat the blades as I walk off.

"Oh, and Goldie?" He calls once I've made it halfway down the street. I twist around, slouching my shoulders, uncaring towards him. "I never got that thank you for saving your life the other night."

A strained smile curves my lips, distinct to his, as I decide to mimic him and curtsy back. "Thank you for ever being so kind enough to spare me from a bite." I turn again but not without hearing his smooth laughter bouncing off the walls as I mumble, "Pig."