Page 13 of A Heist for Filthy Rivals (Mythic Holidays #3)

The four of us stand there, packed together, breathing heavily and waiting, until the first crystal finally turns red and casts its glow again.

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” I say. “Good work, Needle. We’re alive, and that’s what matters. Now we can make some progress—”

But as the last word leaves my mouth, lightning strikes Grisly’s crystal, and we have to wait again.

Shit. This might take a lot longer than I thought.

After what feels like fucking infinity, we reach the inner wall.

None of us had much patience to begin with, and what we’ve got is frayed thin.

Both crystals are riddled with cracks, so I don’t waste time opening my pack, taking out my supplies, and painting the stone with the explosive gel I designed when I was just seventeen.

I’ve worked on it for years, perfecting the original recipe and designing variations to accomplish different tasks.

The stuff I brought with me for this heist is the most powerful version I’ve ever made.

I paint it on chaotically, in intersecting lines, like cracks branching through a lake of ice, diverging and then connecting.

I’ve just finished applying it to the wall when the first crystal shatters.

“Light it!” snarls Grisly. “Light the paint!”

I take out my igniter, flick it, and watch the sparks jump to the wall. The lines of paint begin to light up, and the glow travels along the branches of the design I’ve created. In my head, I start counting down the seconds.

There’s a reason I paint the wall in crooked, forked lines.

It slows the ignition process, giving us enough time to get clear, and it provides the most widespread damage.

It’s a technique I’ve perfected with years of experimentation.

No one else understands this substance quite like I do, and I’d like to think that no one else can paint it on a target with the same accuracy and effect.

Huddled together beneath the watery light of the remaining crystal, my crew and I shuffle backward. We’re barely out of range when the hissing sound spikes and my paint explodes in a symphony of beautiful destruction.

Another bolt of lightning hits, shattering our second interceptor, and every man makes a break for the wall. We pelt through, only to stop short at the brink of a fiery moat. Needle nearly careens into it, but I grab the collar of his coat and haul him back.

We’re standing on a narrow ledge, and before us sprawls a disappointingly wide expanse of molten lava.

“Fuck,” Grisly says.

“Agreed.” I look up at the inner wall. This one has eyes, too, just like the outer wall, and a few of them have swiveled toward us.

“You still watching, sweetheart?” I call.

No answer for a second. Then Devilry’s voice echoes through the heated air. “I was hoping you’d fry in the lightning like the disgusting insects you are.”

“Disgusting? You haven’t seen disgusting yet. Hold on.” I unfasten my pants and aim for one of the lower eyes in the wall. The stream of piss hits it dead on. “Gods,” I sigh with relief. “Feels so good.”

“Just as I thought,” she says. “You’re an animal.”

“I’d hate to disappoint you, love.” I shake vigorously and tuck my dick away.

“Really?” Her tone drips with derision. “From what I saw, you should be used to disappointing women.”

“Ha! A dig at my manhood. Trust me, it’s big enough to do the job—you just didn’t get a good look at it. But I’d be happy to offer you a closer inspection once we get inside.”

As my men chuckle darkly, uneasy regret settles in my stomach. I was joking about showing her my dick at close range, but they might think I’m serious.

“You’re not getting anywhere near me,” Devilry answers. Beneath the steel in her voice, there’s a thread of strain. She’s nervous. And she said You’re not getting anywhere near me. Just her. No mention of her crew.

“You alone in there, sweetheart?” I ask.

“Of course not,” she snaps, too quickly, too defensively.

“She is alone,” mutters Grisly, exchanging gleeful grins with Slaughter. “We’re gonna have us a good time, ain’t we, boss?”

“This isn’t that kind of crew,” I tell them. “If she gets in our way, we kill her quick and clean. Otherwise we don’t touch her.”

“That’s no fun,” Needle complains, and Slaughter says, “We’ll see about that,” under his breath.

I grit my teeth to keep from arguing with them about it.

My authority is tenuous, and I have to keep reminding myself that these goons are a pathway to a higher caliber of criminal partner.

Hopefully, pulling off a job this big will catapult me right to the top and make me a sought-after commodity among the gangs of the Consortium.

Gods know I could use the protection in case anyone from Talgus finds out where I am.

My last job in my former city made me a lot of powerful enemies.

Devilry’s voice comes from the wall again. I don’t know if she realizes how husky and sultry she sounds, even when she’s scared. “As I said earlier, you’re a bunch of idiots, blasting through the barriers and disrupting the spellwork of Annordun. You’re going to attract attention.”

“We like attention, don’t we, boys?” I grin at my men.

“Not this kind of attention,” she says. “The Fae are as lethal as they are beautiful. You don’t want to piss them off.”

“So we should be stealthy. Got it.” I tap my finger against my lips.

“I’ve got some compact gel detonators I’ve been dying to use.

I think I’ll blow a nice deep trough from here back into the area we just crossed.

We can create a channel, reroute some of this lava, and clear ourselves a path to walk across.

It should only take, oh, about a dozen explosions.

Maybe fifteen. Does that sound stealthy enough to you? ”

“You moronic knob,” she hisses. “I’ll make sure you regret this.”

“You and what army, sweetheart? Oh, and I almost forgot to ask you a very important question. How’s your ass?”

I can feel the shock in her silence.

“Her ass?” whispers Needle.

“I stuck her real good in the ass last time we met.” Slaughter and Grisly snicker, and I roll my eyes. “With a knife, you twats, not my dick. And she gave me this.” I lift my shirt and reveal the scar on my side.

The night I fought Devilry, I had to seek healing from Cobble, a healer of questionable talent and weak magic.

I’m too new to the city’s crime network for more reputable healers like Witch to even deign to speak to me, so I have to make do with the incompetent ones—hence the scar. I rather like it, though.

“My ass is just fine,” replies Devilry in a haughty tone.

“Perfectly smooth and round again, I’ll wager. Witch’s work?”

“Of course. She’s the best healer in the city. Always makes time for her favorites.”

“How nice for you.” I take a detonator from my pack and toss it lightly in my hand, an action that makes my crew’s eyes widen with terror. I’ve told them the devices are extremely volatile, when in reality they’re perfectly tame if the safety latch is on.

“See you and your pretty ass soon, love,” I call.

“Don’t count on it,” she replies.

With a grin and a flick of the latch, I toss the bomb.