Page 2 of Wicked Little Tricks

I spottedthe lights of the mall well before I reached the structure. The first of the vendors started outside in little huts with umbrellas, shaded from the murky sun. They were mostly a mixture of humans with goblin blood, or vice versa, selling cheap crap that wouldn’t pass muster in the more expensive shops inside.

I walked past them, ignoring their calls and heading straight for an outdoor escalator that would bring me to the second story. That was where I was supposed topick up the package—next to the pretzel stand of all places.

A man in an oversized coat stood too close to me the entire ride up, making me tense. Or maybe it was just the constant tension I experienced since leaving the agency.

The money with the agency had been pretty good, but I made three times as much going solo. The only thing was, I’d given up the agency’s client screening process, as well as the layer of protection they offered. If someone harmed a messenger, the agency could and would retaliate.

The arduous ride ended, and I hopped off the escalator and strode into the mall. My heavy boots made annoying squeaking sounds on the smooth tiles, but I was probably the only one who noticed over the din of conversation.

The place was packed. It always was on Saturdays. Normally I would never brave the crowds, but I hadn’t chosen the time, nor the location.

I found the pretzel stand, then looked around for someone waiting with a package. They shouldn’t be difficult to spot with most of the shoppers scurrying about like their lives depended on a new pair of boots.

I hadn’t gotten a new pair of boots in quite some time, but that was neither here nor there.

A tall woman who probably had some troll heritage—judging by how many shopping bags she was able to carry at once—moved out of the way to reveal an eventaller man in a stone gray suit. He wore a matching gray hat, the brim pulled low enough that with his sunglasses, I could barely see his face.

It was hard to tell with the shades, but I thought he might be looking at me, and in his hands was a small parcel wrapped in brown paper.

I approached, sensing a strange aura about him as I neared.

That’s the thing about night runners—we don’t have much magic of our own, but we can sure sense it. Another bonus of having one foot in other realms.

I realized why he felt so strange once I was close enough to observe his shadowed face. His skin was gray, and looked like it was made of stone. His tucked-in wings made the back of his coat bulge strangely. What in the five hells was a gargoyle doing in Starfield Mall? Usually they kept to the Silver Quarter with the Angelics. You wouldn’t know it from looking at them, but the two races had similar origins.

Feigning bravery, I stood squarely in front of him. “Eva Nix, at your service.”

The grim line of his mouth didn’t shift in the slightest. He simply extended the package my way.

I gripped it reluctantly, wondering why the gargoyle couldn’t just deliver the package to the Circus himself.

I had to give a light tug to break the package free from his grip, then nearly dropped it. It was heavier than I had expected.

I waited for him to say something, but looking intothe dark lenses of his glasses was like staring at a blank screen.

“Alright, then.” I stepped back. “I guess I’ll be going.”

Still, no movement.

Weirdo.

Keeping an eye on him as I retreated, I shoved the package into my messenger bag, then made my way back toward the exit.

The parcel weighed on me the entire way. Maybe I should have been more suspicious about a delivery to the Circus, where there were no magical boundaries to cross. Night runners didn’t come cheap, especially when a gargoyle—or even a merc like Braxton—could get the job done.

My thoughts were washed away by the patter of rain as I reached the outdoor platform.

Great. Exactly what I needed. At least my messenger bag was waterproof. Wouldn’t do to go ruining the mysterious package before I could see whoever was waiting for it.

Pulling up the hood of my sweatshirt from beneath my jacket, I went back down the escalator, then started running. I would need to be quick to make the delivery on time and get back out of the Circus before midnight.

That was when the truly dangerous creatures came out to play.

2

The neon lightsof the Circus flashed through the misty rain. The Circus isn’t an actual circus. Well, not entirely. It has the lights, the food, and some other attractions. But the main part of the Circus is a casino, and that’s where I was headed. I walked past vendors huddled under umbrellas, the neon lights reflecting in the puddles of water near my boots.

I pulled my hood forward a little further and hitched up my coat. It wasn’t cold, but with the coming darkness and the strange encounter with the gargoyle, I felt on edge.

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