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AbrA'S ACQUISITION: CHAPTER ONE

I watch the tiny spitfire stomp around the abandoned garage, demanding Hex call the police to arrest the three men responsible for kidnapping her and the two other women we found trapped in this hell hole. Hex won’t give in, but he admires her sass. I prefer my women to be sweet and docile, but I must admit that something about the woman appeals to me. She’s gorgeous with her milk chocolate skin tone and bronze-colored hair. Her green eyes flash when Hex tells her no. She looks familiar, but I can’t place her.

A strangled shout from Jack draws Hex and the woman into the reception area, leaving me with the three assholes. I don’t know what they find, but it isn’t good. Because Hex comes charging back into the room to pummel the men I’m guarding. Since he’s focused on destroying their junk, I can guess their sins. The devastation on the spitfire’s face confirms my suspicions.

She is Rey Montague. I know her, but I don’t remember why, which drives me crazy. Before I can figure it out, she leaves with Olivia, Lake’s woman. They’re taking the women we rescued to the hospital because both look ready to give birth at any second. I forget about Rey and focus on our next stop. Taking down the two doctors who betrayed everything they stood for by kidnapping women, pimping them out, and then selling their babies. While I would have preferred to take them back to the Farm and show them what it felt like to be raped by using a hot poker, Hex decided to let the cops handle them. I got it. They had the information the cops needed—the precise location of the babies they sold.

When Rey and her police detective brother arrived, I finally figured it out. Standing in the dim light, I realized where I’d seen Rey before. Several nights ago, I had been on a quest. That may sound corny, but it was what I called my excursions. Because those excursions often took place in the homes and businesses of those who had no idea I was there. They involved breaking into fortresses and stealing a prized artifact or two. I’m a master thief. You get good when you learn to steal almost as soon as you learn to walk.

Growing up the only child of a man whose sole source of income was picking pockets, one can’t help but quickly pick up the skill. My earliest memories are of me distracting the mark by asking for help or pretending I was in distress. As the mark focused on helping me, my dad would nimbly alleviate them of their pocketbooks or wallets. Misdirection was the key, and I excelled at it. It wasn’t long before my dad had me working on my own. But as my touch lightened, his grew heavier until he picked the wrong pocket one day. The pocket belonged to a member of the Bratva who left my dad to bleed out in an ally. So, at sixteen, I found myself alone and living on the streets.

Being big for my age helped me stay one step ahead of child services. Having to answer only to myself allowed me to branch out. Rather than settle for a few hundred a day, I searched for ways to increase my haul. That’s when I discovered that sleight of hand and misdirection are also helpful in swiping expensive items easily pawned for thousands. Later, I found they were also beneficial in getting people to willingly part with their money so they could sit in an audience and be amazed as I made my assistant disappear in a cloud of smoke as Lucifer’s Heir.

The money I legally earned nightly as a magician made me choosier about the items I stole. Because instead of pawning them, I now kept them. These were my personal quests to acquire the beautiful and the rare. However, on occasion, I would take on requests from a friend. That’s what I was doing the night I first laid eyes on Rey Montague.

My friend, Cicero, and yes, that is his real name. His parents were academics with a taste for ancient Rome. Cicero and I grew up together on the streets. His parents were often so caught up in their research that they’d forget they had a son. He had a warm place to sleep and plenty to eat, but the loneliness drove him into the busy streets of New Orleans. I owed Cicero a debt I could never repay. He often let me crash at his home under his parents’ noses. But that’s not why I owed him. Cicero once saved my life by taking a knife meant for me. So, I was happy to do him a favor. If I’d known the trouble it would cause, I’d have devised a different plan.

Cicero contacted me when we were all in Ireland helping Dixie deal with Sigil. While Dixie was one of their top assassins, he had faked the assassination of Hex’s brother, Vladimir. We backed up Dixie when they recalled him to Ireland. However, he didn’t need it. It turns out Sigil didn’t want to punish Dixie for screwing up a job; they wanted to discuss giving him more targets now that the Demon Dawgs could provide him better cover for those jobs.

I had planned on fulfilling Cicero’s request the night we returned, but some assholes tried to kidnap Lake’s woman, Olivia. So, I postponed the attempt until the following night. Getting into Blake Erickson's office was easy enough. It wasn’t my first time here. Blake was a real estate developer. He’s the man Hex used to purchase the plantation, which he converted into our clubhouse. We also bought the locations for Zip’s tattoo shop, the bar, and the auto shop. So, I’d been in this office with members of my club. I’ve also been here without them. I purchased the warehouse where I store my collection from Blake. I’ve also stolen a few items in that collection from him. I knew the layout and that Blake was too lazy and cheap to upgrade his security, so getting in was easy.

The object of my quest wasn’t in the safe where he should have kept it. See? Lazy or maybe just arrogant. I know from experience that Blake prefers his artifacts on display in his office. He’s just asking for someone like me to come in and steal them. I didn’t expect Blake to be in his office tonight, but he surprised me by coming in with a stunning woman who I assume is his client. However, I soon realized I was wrong.

“Ms. Montague, I appreciate you meeting with me,” Blake says as she directs her toward a visitor’s chair.

“Of course. I’m sorry that it had to be so late, but I have back-to-back meetings, and I know this is important to you,” Ms. Montague replies as she places her briefcase on her lap before opening it. She pulls out a thick file folder. “We need to review the plans before I file your petition with the Vieux Carré Commission to purchase and remodel the property. They have stringent rules about what you can and cannot do with these properties.”

“I understand, but I hope the VCC considers the severe neglect of this property. Wouldn’t they rather someone restore it to its original beauty?”

“You’d think, but no. The VCC has strict rules about the style of homes, as you can understand.”

“I understand. I think my plans will show them that I mean to follow those rules,” Blake says while rolling out an extensive document on his desk.

As they discussed their plans, I leaned against the wall in the shadows. The soft light from Erickson’s desk doesn’t reach me, but it reflects off the item I’m here to steal. Throughout Erickson’s vast office are a variety of antiques, each worth several thousand dollars. I plan to return another night to relieve him of the silver Incan statue I spot.

My attention snaps back to the couple when Blake stands to stretch out his back. “We should take a break. I’ll go get us some refreshments.”

I move as soon as he leaves the room. With her back to me, she doesn’t notice when I grab the item. Since I had to pass by the Incan statue, I grabbed it, too. There's no sense in having to make two trips. Right? Once I safely tuck both items into my bag, I blend into the busy bustle of New Orleans.

After delivering the item to Cicero, I forget all about Erickson and his lawyer, so I’m surprised to see her again and in such an unusual situation. I’m thinking about her while we sit in the hospital lobby. Lake and Olivia are upstairs visiting Lake’s father, who has just woken up after being stabbed in the back. A commotion draws our attention to the elevator, and Lake and Olivia come rushing out.

“Abra, Olivia got a call from someone using Rey’s phone. He gave her a message. He said he was looking for Lucifer’s Heir. He has your assistant, and she’ll pay the price if you don’t return what you stole,” Lake says. “What did you do?”