13. Adina

13

ADINA

L ike the bloodhounds of old scenting a fox among the bushes, I clocked my mark the second I saw him. There were tempting targets, and then there was easy prey. And that guy right there? He was a tasty morsel who was fooling no one.

Oh my goodness, what a ripe piece of fruit he is.

It wasn't apparent at first, He was dressed in the traditional garb of a house servant—dark blue trousers, a light grey shirt, and a button-up kaftan over the top of it all. If that were all there was, he wouldn't have merited a second glance, but I knew what to look for, and the gold buttons gave him away, as did the hem of his kaftan, which was done in gold thread.

And his veil? It was also edged in gold.

That meant one thing and one thing only—this guy was a servant from the palace. Only they were allowed to use gold in their attire.

Holy shit. A palace servant wandering the streets?

They never came out here just to stroll the promenade or do some shopping. No one in the palace staff was permitted to have contact with greater Londabad, ostensibly because they wanted to keep them loyal to the crown, but it was more likely that they wanted to keep them shielded and scared because this poor guy looked like he was caught somewhere between entranced and scared out of his mind.

I could take him for all he was worth in seconds.

I could walk up behind him or wrap an arm around his shoulders as I cozied up to him and snip every bit of gold off his clothing in record time and without him noticing what I was doing.

Gold was useful for electronics and decoration, as well as a symbol of status, and even a small quantity sold for a lot of money.

It would be easy.

And yet...

There was something about him that made me hold back. Something about how he moved, sinuous and smooth, that screamed "trained" to me. Not trained as a fighter, he didn't have that sort of physique... a dancer, maybe? Was he an entertainer at the palace? Ooh boy, if he got caught out here, he'd be in for a cruel punishment. The emperor was reputed to be very possessive of his entertainers.

That, plus the way he tugged at his veil without even seeming to realize it, was enough to keep me from breaking cover quite yet. I decided to follow this guy for a while, just to make sure that he wasn't a plant. I had heard rumors of the guards planting easy-looking targets to catch thieves like me.

If nothing else, the guy promised to be very entertaining.

I didn't have to worry about losing him in the crowd—he was half a head taller than most people on the street. Well-fed, this gent. I merged into the foot traffic that swarmed the pedestrian underpass, then followed him toward the Promenade, where he was being drawn like a bot to a charge port.

I briefly lost him to a swarm of holo-butterflies, but he emerged a second later, spinning around to follow their path even as most people went on their way like nothing had happened. I could tell from the angle of his veil across his cheeks that he was smiling broadly.

What a weirdo. An endearing one, though.

I trailed him across two blocks' worth of shops, taking in his delight with everything—and I mean everything. He seemed as fascinated by skewers of roasted desert rat as by the most elaborate touch holograms. The games at the arcade drew longing stares from him, although he flinched several times at the sounds. The clothing boutiques merited several glances, as did the music store. Still, the chorus of catcalls from the people at the brothel made him turn away almost instantly, flushed and uncomfortable. Was he that much of a prude? Or just an innocent who'd never seen such things before?

Maybe he was slow-minded, in which case he would not survive out here without protection. I had to look out for him until he returned to the palace.

How had he even gotten out?

He did fine all the way up until he got to the third block, at which point he made the critical mistake of reaching out to touch a peachle before paying for it.

"Oy! Mate!" The proprietor was livid, his face turning an alarming shade of purple. "You don't touch before you buy!"

"Oh, I'm sorry." His voice was, wow, soft, sensual, the kind of voice that lingered in the ears. I could listen to him all day, but right now, the shopkeeper was doing most of the talking, and it wasn't good.

"You gotta pay me for that, you!"

"Right, of course, I..." He seemed to realize he was in a predicament at that moment. "Um. I... sorry, I don't seem to have any credits on me."

Yup, my guy was slightly dimwitted.

"No credits?" The shopkeeper leaned over the edge of his stall, his eyes narrowing dangerously. People began to back away, sensing the tension in the air. "You come to my store, my place of business, and put your filthy hands on my wares without any credits to your name? What, you think I was just gonna let you take one of those because you dress fancy, huh?"

"Of course not," the young man said, his voice steady despite the apparent fear in his posture.

"Or maybe you've got another sort of bargain in mind." The shopkeeper leered, two of his front teeth replaced with stellocrete glinting in the neon lights. "I'd accept your payment in the back."

"Absolutely not." The young man's voice was very firm.

Good for you , I thought, feeling a surge of admiration for his backbone.

It seemed that my guy wasn't slow-minded after all. He'd understood what the shopkeeper had implied.

"In that case…" The shopkeeper drew a vibro-blade out from under the stall, short but already blurring with energy. "You owe me in blood. An eye or three of your fingers, your choice."

"Excuse me?" The young man was clearly stunned. He raised his hands defensively, looking awkward, but there was something about his posture... it made me think he knew more about protecting himself than I'd assumed. The way his back foot twisted slightly, the way he dropped his center of mass just so...

Yeah, I needed to step in, or this would turn into a serious mess.

On the other hand, I could leave him to dig his own grave or get picked up by the guardians who patrolled the streets and were already headed this way. I needed to get back to picking peers' pockets and making my living, not protecting pampered palace brats.

Oh, what a choice.

Damn. It wasn't a choice at all. I tucked Bingo around my neck, his tentacles curling comfortingly against my skin, stepped out of the crowd, and cupped my hands around my mouth.

"There you are!"