Page 54 of Amber Gambler

“Her prints were in the system. We have a positive ID. Her name was Maggy Driver. She was living with a group of kids her age in a foreclosed home about ten miles from here. They went out two weeks ago in a group to run a few plays on tourists down on River Street. Maggy didn’t come home after she had a fight with a mark who noticed her lifting his wallet, but no one reported her missing.”

“They left her.” I didn’t have to ask to know. “There’s no loyalty in groups like that. It’s all about survival. If you earn, you can stay. If you get made, you’re on your own.” I selected candles. “You can’t go back.”

“That what happened with you and your sibs?”

“I learned how to steal and not get caught. I built up a nest egg, and then I took my family and left.”

They taught me how to ID foreclosures and scout short-term housing situations. That skill provided us Marys with shelter. I mastered the art of pickpocketing and petty theft, which kept us from starving. As unsavory as the situation had been, it was worth it for the education.

“What about Josie?” She crossed her ankles, flattening her shoulder blades against the wall. “Matty?”

“She stayed behind to keep an eye on him.” I placed white candles at Maggy’s feet and head. “He was so sick then, he couldn’t get out of bed most days. Everyone had to bring in a certain amount every night. It wasn’t too bad.” Unless you multiplied it by three. “I worked three times harder than anyone else, but it was that or lose our places to kids who could earn.”

“You’re an amazing woman, Frankie. I can see why Harrow is still hung up on you.”

As much as I enjoyed her good-natured ribbing, it was time to nip her cupid aspirations in the bud.

“He didn’t know me. Not really. I loved him. But I kept too many parts of myself hidden for him to return the favor. He loved what I showed him. That’s not the same as who I was—or am.” I huffed a laugh. “I’ve never said that out loud to anyone.” I swung my head toward her. “You’re either a good listener.” I squinted at her in mock suspicion. “Or an excellent interrogator.”

“Can’t it be both?”

Snorting, I selected a tiger’s eye stone for Maggy’s left hand and a hunk of citrine for her right.

“I’ll do better.” She swung her truck keys around her finger. “With the teasing about Harrow.”

“Thanks.” I located my silver lighter to give me a focal point. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“The man you stashed down the hall says otherwise.”

“Well, that didn’t last long.”

“I said teasing about Harrow.” She winked. “I’m not giving up on yourbirdfriendjust yet.”

“I’m going to kill Josie.” I blew a limp chunk of hair off my cheek. “You’ll help me hide the body, right?”

“I’m your friend—” she stumbled over the word, “—so I’ll bring the shovels.”

“How about I bring the shovels, and you bring your truck?”

“It’s a deal.” She clenched the keys in her hand so tight her knuckles turned white.

“Here we go.” I gave her a thirty-second warning. “I’m starting now.”

I dug a lancet from my bag, pricked my thumb, and pressed a bloody print onto Maggy’s forehead.

Counterclockwise, I lit the candles, humming a nonsense Creole lullaby Vi had taught me to calm spirits I would call upon soon. Given Kierce’s state, it felt wise. As my magic unspooled in silvery ribbons, I began a low chant to draw Maggy into her body.

I won’t lie. I was nervous. I didn’t want to fail as I had most every other time in this room.

Before my anxiety threw me off my game, a faint blue swirl of energy appeared above me, and I sank my hand into the delicate motes, helping them solidify and then guiding them down into their former home.

A shocked breath rang out as Maggy woke, and Carter smacked into the wall with a muttered curse.

“Where am I?” Maggy rubbed her eyes until they focused on me. “Who are you?”

“I’m Frankie.” I hoped disorientation would keep her from processing her surroundings. “You’re Maggy.”

“I know who I am, freak.” She shoved up onto an elbow. “What do you want from me?”

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