Thief: X
Authors: E.I. Jennings,
Thief: X
By
E.I Jennings
Contains the life of a sin eater, with scenes of violence, sin and debauchery.
Copyright © 2015 E.I Jennings
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without permission, in writing of the Author.
Table of Contents
Dedication
For my mom who sadly passed away before I could complete this book
I don’t really know where to start with acknowledgements. This book has been the hardest I’ve ever written. The first half was written before the tragedy of my mom passing away suddenly and it was only with the help of friends that I finally finished. I’d like to thank the constants in my life who have supported me through this horrible time. Maria Helena Primon and Valerie Gooden Schoettmer, you may be thousands of miles away but your strength has made me push through. I’d also like to thank all of my readers out there. This book is the first in a new series and I couldn’t disappoint my fans by not finishing, I just hope that you enjoy reading it.
London 1982
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” A young brunette woman said to her husband as they stumbled through the doors of the Cock Inn. She held on tightly to his arm as he looked around for the man he had agreed to meet. They knew they didn’t belong in this type of bar and the eyes that followed them around the room agreed.
“He said to meet him here at nine o’clock.” The husband grunted back. “Although I really don’t think you should have worn your pearls.” His wife looked down at herself and brushed off his remark. She may be in the wrong part of town but she would never dress down for anyone. Plus he couldn’t say anything standing in a handmade Italian suit, with his Rolex hanging prominently on his wrist. What was the point of being rich if you couldn't rub it in other people noses? “Ahhhh there he is!”
Sitting in an alcove on the other side of the bar was a man drinking a pint of beer and watching his surroundings. The couple pushed their way through the crowd and winced every time a stray arm touched them, praying to God they wouldn’t be mugged. It was just their luck most of the working class had decided to get drunk tonight. By the time they got through the crowd the man was looking up at them in contempt.
“Are…are you Mr Nica?” The husband asked, wondering if this was the man he had spoken to on the telephone hours before. He looked too young to be the face of the voice he had heard. The man looked in his late twenties with bushy, un-kept red hair and dark blue eyes that were nearly black. If he was clean-shaven, he would probably be quite handsome and by the way his wife was suddenly staring wide eyed he knew he was right.
“Sit! You know if it weren’t for these people here, Britain wouldn’t have a work force. You should show a little respect to working men Mr Trescott.” Immediately the couple sat down as Mr Nica glared at them as he took another sip of beer.
“I’m sorry if I offended you.” Mr Trescott said gulping.
“To business, because I haven’t much time. Explain away while you still have my attention.” Mr Nica put his beer down and folded his hands on the table, looking at the poor excuse of human beings before him. This would be interesting, but what to take from them?
“It’s my wife…I mean us…we’ve been trying for years but…”
“You want a child?”
“More than anything!” Mrs Trescott interrupted.
“I see. This changes things slightly.” My fee will be much more Mr Nica thought, so much more.
“Please, you said you could help us?”
“I can. You have the money I requested?” Mr Trescott opened his jacked and slid a large, stuffed envelope on the table.
“Ten thousand pounds.”
“This will do for now.”
“What? You said that would cover the cost of everything.”
“But you wouldn’t disclose the full request over the phone, only that you were doing this for your wife. My fee now has two parts.”
“This is ridiculous! Why put an advertisement in the newspaper and say you can help us when you can’t?” Mr Trescott was fuming, but his wife clutched at his arm to calm him down. Mr Nica looked at him and frowned, wanting to pull him across the table. Only the desperate could read that advertisement and this couple reeked of it.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, but you will owe me the thing you care about the most.” Mr Trescott shrugged because the thing he cared about the most was his Bentley. Yes, it should have been his wife but the pressure of wanting a child had put a strain on their marriage. This was his last attempt before walking away.
“Ok.”
“Great!” Mr Nica smiled and clapped his hands together.
“So do we adopt?” Mrs Trescott sighed in relief.
“No, your child will be your own. You will need to take two of these for the next week and before you know it you’ll be pregnant.” Mr Nica pulled out a small plastic bottle with pills inside.
“Are they safe?”
“Ten thousand pounds worth of safe!” Mr Nica laughed and then held onto her hands. His touch sent shockwaves up her arm and she was sure that when she looked into his eyes she saw flames but shrugged it off as the stress of the evening getting to her. This would be an interesting pact indeed, he thought.
“When will you want the second part of the agreement?” Just as Mr Trescott finished his sentence, he felt a cold draft hit his back.
“It would appear my time is up so I must love and leave you both. I will be in contact to take possession of the second part of the agreement.” With that, Mr Nica rose from the table and walked towards the back door.
“When?”
“When I’m ready. Tootles for now.” He waved back and then was gone. The couple looked at each other and then a cold hand rested on Mr Trescott shoulder,
“Which way did he go?” He looked up to find a man in a black suit with long black hair looking down at them. His voice sounded funny but all they could do was point at the door. “Thank you.” And, just like Mr Nica he disappeared into the night.
Present Day
“You cheated!” I really hated being shouted at with a passion.
“How? Come on George, how the hell could I have cheated?” I smirked.
“I saw the ball curve. It was an impossible shot! You cheated.”
“Right. Just pay up before I lose my temper and throw you into the wall.”
“No!” George was an idiot. I slowly put the pool cue on the table and walked towards him. At nearly six foot most men were a little intimidated by me and George was no exception. He winced and started backing away.
“Look Xan, I don’t want any trouble,” he raised his hands in the air in surrender then tucked one into his pocket and pulled out a wad of twenties.
“And here was me thinking intelligent men don’t exist.” I counted the money and snorted. Deep down I wanted him to fight but no one ever did, and I craved it like a drug.
Instead of poking him more, I walked towards the bar and literally flopped my arse on the barstool,
“Usual Xan?” Kibble mumbled in my direction. Kibble was the owner of this great establishment and got the nickname because his face looked like it had been chewed on – repeatedly. He was a Troll, which didn’t help his looks either. He looked like a tree trunk that had been shot several times with a shotgun but he could also break your neck with one punch. No one knew what had happened to him and no one was brave enough to ask, not even me.
“Yep and it’s all on George.” I smiled pulling out my winnings. Kibble laughed, which sounded like a car struggling to start, and put my usual lime twist in front of me. It was my own concoction of coffee liqueur, lime, and coke and only Kibble made it how I liked it.
“You know Xan, I’m actually considering retiring…” I spat my drink all over his face because Kibble and The Wheel Inn was like one solid entity, “I thought you would say that,” he smiled and I realised he was trying to be funny. Trolls didn’t really understand humour and nearly swallowing my tongue made him laugh even louder.
“Really? Why do you keep trying to kill me?”
“I like to see you react to something. Anyway, Dorian has offered a cool million now.” Kibble was also my handler. Everything I did went through him first and of course he took his fifteen percent.
“I told you I don’t accept jobs from friends.” I knocked my drink back and Kibble put another in front of me.
“He’s getting desperate Xan.”
“There’s a lot of desperate people out there but I’m not taking his money.”
“Come on, he only wants you to steal something. It’s not like you’ve got to kill someone…”
“No. Not gonna happen.”
“Is it because he had his wicked way with you and left you humiliated…” before he could finish his sentence I felt the glass crack and break in my hand. Humiliated was the wrong word to use. I was angry, fuming, and the next time I saw Dorian I would shoot him in his balls for leaving me naked wondering where in the hell he was.
“Ok, ok I get the point I’ll inform him it’s a no.”
“You do that.” I said through gritted teeth, plotting out Dorian’s slow, torturous death in my head.
“Anyway, that guy at the end of the bar wants to buy you a drink,” he nodded at a hunched figure at the end of the bar. I looked him over and thought what the hell. I couldn’t see his face because it was shadowed by his cowboy hat but if his body was anything to go by maybe I could forget Dorian for a few hours.
I never knew what it was about a man dressed in black that made me go all breathless, but this guy knew how to work it. His tight t-shirt showed the muscled curves of his chest and his jeans gave a hint at his powerful thighs. I just wished he would take that damned, stupid hat off. A cowboy in the English countryside was ridiculous. I needed to see his face, so I moseyed on down. It was such a shame that the last drink I had I was sure Kibble had tripled the shot and I almost fell into the cowboy’s lap.
Luckily for me I missed but managed to face plant the floor. Dear God I was a professional and now he’d think I was a drunk. I saw him move and then felt his hands on my arms helping me up. As I looked up, his green eyes looked down into mine and my brain went into overdrive with a hundred and one uses for rope.
“Ma’am you ok?” His nose was a little too long for my liking and he had better eyelashes than I did but I wouldn’t be looking at his face with what I had in mind with a length of rope. I’m sure a cowboy could show me a few things.
“Of course.” I flapped his hands away and dusted the dirt off my jeans. I knew I should have worn something better than blue jeans and a white t-shirt that said ‘bite me’ across my boobs. I was about to go all flirty when I saw the folder on the bar. The only time that happened was when someone wanted something from me.
“Can I buy you a drink?” His accent was already grating on me, although the twang of Texan that ran through it made me think of rope again.
“If you must, and then you can tell me what you want.” I nodded at Kibble and he grinned placing a lime twist in front of me. “Oh and make it good, it’s my day off.”
“I would be obliged if you would find something for me ma’am.” Most people wanted me to find something rather than needed me to do it.
“Why me?” It was time I stopped trying to flirt and act professional, which was difficult when my brain was riding him like a Broncho.
“I’ve been told you’re the best and that’s what I need ma’am.” I was the best because I didn’t always do things legally.
“Do you even know who I am?”
“Xan; thief, assassin, tracker, whatever you need to be. I need your help and I’ve travelled a long way. I heard what y’all did for Katie.” That was the wrong thing for him to say,
“You’re a cop, so whatever you want I’m not falling for it.” He sighed and looked at me,
“I’m not exactly a cop here ma’am…how did you know?”
“Because Katie’s name was never made public because she doesn’t exist anymore.”
A year ago, I’d helped Katie disappear with her daughter from an arsehole of a husband who liked nothing more than torturing them. Unfortunately, he decided to get a little closer than I liked and I slit his throat. There was only one person who knew it was me, and I’d be having a very long chat with the Detective when I got the chance.
“Please, I wouldn’t have come to you if I didn’t need your help ma’am.”
“Do it yourself and stop calling me ma’am!” I pushed from the bar stool and began walking away when I felt his hand on my shoulder. This time the place went quiet. The last person that had done that I’d thrown through the window.
“Ok, just take a look at the file and if you say yes, I can have a lot of money wired to your account.”
“I don’t get out of bed for anything less than fifty grand and how the hell do I know you’re not setting me up?”
“Because I’m a Texas Ranger with no jurisdiction in the UK, and I’m here alone.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not who you think I am.” I shrugged and started to walk away,
“You’re exactly who I think you are.”
“If I was, surely I’d be behind bars by now? You know with all the illegal stuff I’m supposed to do?”
“That’s why I need you.”
“You have no proof, so leave me alone.”
“Look, can we just sit for a minute and I’ll explain?” I looked at Kibble and he shrugged his shoulders. Pretty much everyone else had moved around the edges of the room as I stormed around with a cowboy following me.
“You have one minute…” I pointed to the booth before my agitated state caused a fight, “…sit.”
“I want you to find Clockwork…” I looked at him as if he’d sprouted another head, “…by the look on your face you know who he is.”
“More what he does. I’m not one to be tortured Mr…”
“You can call me Marshall. He’s here and I need you to find him for me.”
“Why?”
“He has something of mine that I want back and I’m desperate.”
“Look, you may have travelled thousands of miles but it’s been a wasted journey, I can’t help you.” I got up to walk away when I felt his hand on mine. His hand was clammy, which gave him more credibility than his story. Whatever he wanted back meant a lot to him.
“Please think about it. You can call me on this number anytime and I’ll pay you whatever you ask.”
“If you don’t let go of my hand I’ll get one of my troll friends over there to throw you out.”
“There’s no such thing as trolls.” He laughed and I rolled my eyes. Marshall the cowboy was a non-believer. Non-believers couldn’t see what was in front of them and it annoyed the liver out of me. A werewolf could eat a baby in front of them and they wouldn’t be able to see it. They couldn’t accept that things existed beyond the human race. He would love me.
I walked back to the bar as Marshall disappeared, shaking my head. Kibble was looking too guilty for my liking.
“He’s gonna cause me trouble and I’m guessing you had something to do with it.” Kibble tried to ignore me and started to clean the bar. “Kibble, I mean it! If he bites me in the arse you’re the first person I’ll come looking for.”
“He insisted on meeting you…”
“Right. Come on Kibble we both know I don’t meet clients. It’s bad enough Dorian knows what I do and now I have Marshall. Did you know he was a Texas Ranger?”
“Yeah in Texas, Xan. I thought he might be good for you.”
I felt the little vein in my head start to throb, “You telling me you’re playing match maker?”
“Well look at you…” he pointed up and down with a dirty cloth in his hands. I looked at myself through the mirrored wall behind the bar. I looked the same as ever. I’d tied my hair up and I even put make up on that showed off the blue in my eyes. Ok, so I always wondered about dying my hair brown instead of the blonde it was but knowing my luck it would turn orange. My biggest, or should I say my smallest problem, was my fried egg breasts. I was almost flat chested and it wound me up no end.
“What?”
“You’re lonely. That’s why you do what you do.”
“It’s safer for me to be on my own.”
“Keep telling yourself that Xan, and one day you’ll die alone.”
“I have the mark of Cain, Kibble and when he comes for me it’s better if no one else is involved.”
“Whatever you say.”
“And now I’m just waiting for a cowboy to bite me in the arse.”
“From the way you were flirting I thought that’s what you wanted?”
“Lime twist Kibble.”