CHAPTER ONE

Bad things always come in threes.

Three strikes. Those three bears that Goldilocks ran into.

The three guards with swords who were chasing me right now.

“Come back here, you thief!” one of the guards bellowed, his voice booming across the dark rooftops.

I grinned and ran faster.

Thirty minutes ago, I had let myself into the lavishly furnished, but poorly protected, brownstone of a rich, Family-affiliated accountant who had bought a ruby necklace for his girlfriend—something his wife didn’t exactly appreciate.

So I had been dispatched to swipe said necklace on the angry wife’s orders and dime. It had been child’s play to climb up the drainpipe to the second floor of the brownstone, pick open a balcony door, and slip inside. I hadn’t even had to break into the office safe, because I discovered the necklace nestled in a black velvet box, the top open, sitting on the accountant’s desk. I’d admired the sparkle of the rubies before closing the lid and tucking the box into my long, sapphire-blue trench coat.

Then I had rifled through the rest of the desk to see what else I could steal.

I’d been mildly surprised and rather pleased to come across a pair of diamond cuff links tucked away in another box in one of the drawers. The diamonds weren’t as large and impressive as the rubies, but into my pockets they’d gone all the same, along with a gold fountain pen, a sterling silver letter opener, and a crystal paperweight.

Nothing that I hadn’t swiped dozens of times before in my seventeen years. In fact, this job had been easier than most of the recent ones Mo had sent me on.

You might say that I was a sort of modern-day Robin Hood, merrily stealing from the rich. Only I never, ever gave my loot away for free. There were only three people in this world that I cared about—me, myself, and I. Well, maybe four, if you caught me on a good day and I felt like including Mo. Either way, Mo could fend for himself, and mine was quite enough of a mouth to feed, as far as I was concerned.

Once I made sure all the loot was securely tucked away in my coat pockets, I scanned the rest of the office. But the vases and other knickknacks were too awkward and oddly shaped for me to carry away, the furniture far too large and heavy.

Satisfied with my haul, I decided to leave—the exact moment one of the guards stepped into the room to fetch the necklace for his boss.

He had yelled for his two buddies, they’d come crashing into the office, swords drawn, and I had beat a hasty retreat through a side door, up some stairs, and out onto the top of the brownstone before leaping onto the roof of the next house over . . . and the one after that . . . and the one after that . . .

Now, here I was, three minutes later, still racing across the rooftops of some of the nicer brownstones in Cloudburst Falls, West Virginia. The guards had been harder to shake than I’d expected, but I had a plan to take care of that.

I always had a plan.

I neared the edge of the roof and put on an extra burst of speed, preparing myself to leap onto the rooftop of the next house over. Lucky for me, the brownstones in this part of town were grouped closely together, with flat, square roofs, many of which featured gardens or even aviaries. This particular roof boasted both, and the roses fluttered as I raced past them, a few petals swirling up into the humid air, while the doves mournfully coo-coo-cooed about how I’d disturbed their sleep.

It was only a short gap between houses, maybe three feet, and I easily cleared it, my feet churning through the air before my sneakers scraped against solid stone again.

I staggered forward a few steps, my coat flapping around my legs. While I worked to regain my previous speed, I glanced over my shoulder. Even though it was after ten at night, and rain clouds cloaked the sky, I could see the three guards chasing me as clearly as if it were noon, thanks to my Talent for sight. They looked like normal humans, and I couldn’t tell if they were boring old mortals or more interesting magicks like me.

The guards didn’t seem to have any Talents, any obvious magic. Otherwise, lightning bolts, ice shards, or even balls of fire would have been streaking through the air towards me. Part of me sort of wished the guards were throwing magic at me. It would have made my escape easier.

Because I had another, rather unusual Talent of my own.

But it wasn’t meant to be, and the men jumped onto the roof behind me as I leaped onto the next one over—the last on this block.

I raced over to the far side of the roof. This brownstone butted up against a street, which meant that the next building over was more than a hundred feet away, much too far to make the jump. And since this was a private home, there wasn’t even a fire escape to climb down, just a rickety metal drainpipe loosely bolted onto the side of the brownstone.

But I already knew that from when I’d cased the neighborhood earlier this evening. In fact, it was the reason I’d run toward this building.

So I dipped my hands into my pockets, sorting through the items there—the necklace box, the other loot I’d swiped, my phone, several quarters, half of a dark chocolate candy bar that I’d been eating earlier while I was watching the accountant’s house. Finally, my fingers closed over two pieces of soft, supple metal, and I yanked out a pair of dull silver mesh gloves, which I pulled onto my hands.

The guards easily made the leap. Well, really, for them, it was more like a hop, given their long legs. I turned to face them. The guards grinned and slowed down when they realized I’d run out of rooftops.

One of the guards stepped forward. His green eyes glittered like a tree troll’s in the semidarkness, and his black hair was cropped so close to his head that it looked like he was wearing a shadow for a skull cap.