Page 67 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Underworld

FOOLING THE FERRYMAN

WREN K. MORRIS

Moira

Many a man made an easy mark,but none were so easily freed from their coin as the ones thinking about their cocks. The agora had been particularly rewarding today, filled with merchants and travelers as it was. All with coin and baubles for the taking with nothing more than a coy smile, honeyed words, and deft fingers.

The taverna was fairly quiet tonight. There were only four other patrons scattered about the long tables, most enjoying quietconversation, light meals, and wine. The tavernkeep scowled at one man, too deep in his cups and too loud for the evening.

I fingered the drachma in my pocket, counting my spoils discreetly. Though some frowned on my profession, stealing was a difficult trade that required skill and discretion. I had learned to slip my hand over merchant tables, snatching up wares and disappearing before the missing item would be noticed. When I became too good at that, I practiced slipping byrsa, fat with coin, from unsuspecting hands and jewels from the necks and fingers of the wealthy.

I had becometoogood at my trade. The thrill and rush of a successful theft had ebbed over the years. It was the only way I knew to survive, so each day I went out and stole.

Despite my experience and prowess, I made a novice’s error.

I allowed myself to become distracted by my spoils.

A large hand clamped down on my shoulder. I jumped, jostling my prizes. Several coins plunked against the wooden floor and rolled to gods know where.

“Hello, Little Thief.”

My breath caught. His voice was slick and rich like olive oil slipping over the senses, but it somehow sent a chill up my spine. The man used his grip on my shoulder to spin me around.

He was impossibly beautiful, as was his companion. Their skin was flawless, seeming to glow with health and care. One set of eyes the color of honey, the other of rich soil bore through me. The man still gripping my shoulder had a look of smarmy satisfaction, though his peer leaned against the wall with the vacant eyes of boredom.

Good. Disinterest was good. It increased my chances of escape.

“I believe you have the wrong woman.” My voice was clear and sure with the confidence of feigned innocence. To be fair, I did have a clear conscience, but that didn’t mean I wanted to face consequences for my actions. Even as my heart raced in my chest, I maintained the well-practiced facade. Bravado would be the only means of escape.

“Oh, I think you’reexactlywho I’m looking for.” He released my shoulder to cross his arms over his chest.

I fought to contain my panic. Though he no longer held me, I wasn’t free to leave. That was clear. I dared not look at the door. Doing so would beanothernovice mistake. I was still internally kicking myself for the first.

“I'm afraid I am not. I am no more a thief than the tavernkeep,” I huffed, gesturing towards the scowling man across the room. “My father will be here soon?—”

Tousled black ringlets bounced around his ears as the man threw his head back with a deep laugh. Much like his appearance, it was warm and charming, but unsettling. Something darker and perhaps callous lurked beneath the surface.

“I admire your dedication,Moira.”

By the gods. He knew my name. Myrealname.

OnlyIknew my real name.

“We both know there is no father waiting for you or coming to your rescue. Though I’m sure the sentries in the agora would love to hear about your activities today. A byrsa of coin, wasn’t it? A necklace?Anda gem?”

Dread twisted deep within me, coiling like a snake. “Why did you call me that?”

“A thief?”

“Moira.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?” He arched his brow. “A bit cruel of your mother to name you after Moirai and then abandon you to their whims. You managed well, however. You’re an impressively skilled thief.”

I snorted. “High praise from a man claiming to have caught such a thief.”

He bristled for a moment, mouth pulling into a thin line. The expression was quickly replaced with a placid smile, even as his companion chuckled under his breath.

“Who are you?” I narrowed my eyes at the two. I had tired of this game.

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