Page 6 of Their Reckless Thief
The walkhome through the streets at night was a whole different ball game compared to The Below. Up here, in the human world, everything seemed quieter on the surface, but it was no less dangerous. In some ways, the silence made it worse. The desolation wasn’t just from fear of gangs or rising crime rates; it was the unspoken, primal instinct humans had when something unnatural lurked nearby. They didn’t know about the creatures that slipped through the tear in the Veil, hunting under the cover of the New Jersey night. To them, the city was just another dangerous place after dark, but I knew the truth.
And that truth haunted these streets.
Trash littered the cracked sidewalks. The faint scent of gasoline and stale beer hung in the chilly night air. The glow of flickering neon signs from liquor stores and twenty-four-hour laundromats bathed the corners in faint light, and the distant wail of a police siren cut through the quiet.
“Anything on the scanners, Viv?” I asked, keeping my pace steady as I passed a shuttered bodega, its steel grate tagged with fresh graffiti.
Vivian’s voice crackled through my earpiece, cool and efficient as ever. “All quiet for now, but don’t let your guard down. This stretch is known for shifter activity.”
“Never do,” I replied, twirling one of my twin blades absentmindedly in my hand. The cool metal was a welcome weight against my palm, a comfort against what waited for me in the shadows.
Ahead, the dim light from a corner streetlamp caught a faint movement. It was subtle—too subtle for human senses—but my instincts locked onto it immediately. A figure emerged from the alley, tall and unnervingly long. Its outline shifted unnaturally, the patchwork of its skin flickering like a poorly tuned television. Shifter. Probably one of the hybrids—creatures trapped between forms, their desperation making them particularly dangerous.
Its yellow eyes gleamed as it let out a low, guttural growl. The muscles beneath its skin rippled as it crouched, ready to spring.
I didn’t break my stride.
I flicked the blade in my hand, its edge catching the dim light. “Not tonight, motherfucker.”
The creature lunged.
Before it could close the gap, I snapped my wrist, and the iron blade found its mark with lethal precision. The shifter’s growl choked off into a sickening gurgle as it staggered backward. Stepping forward, I wrenched the blade free from its throat. The creature’s body convulsed once before collapsing in a heap, its edges already disintegrating as the magic tethering it to this realm unraveled.
“Good kill,” Vivian quipped through the earpiece, her tone laced with dry amusement. “But maybe don’t tango with things you can avoid.”
I sheathed my blade as I continued walking. “Where’s the fun in that?”
The shifter’s body dissolved into nothingness, leaving only a faint scorch mark on the cracked asphalt. If only the remains of stray humans could vanish like that. Those bodies stayed right where they dropped. A nightmare for any unfortunate soul who stumbled across the aftermath, but that wasn’t my problem tonight.
The streets grew quieter as I approached my building. It wasn’t much to look at from the outside—another rundown brick façade in a neighborhood that had seen better days. The windows were cracked, the fire escape rusted, and the graffiti on the walls was old enough to be considered historical art. To anyone passing by, it was just another forgotten piece of Newark real estate.
But appearances were deceiving. This was home.
I keyed into the building, the heavy door groaning as it swung open, and took the stairs up to the fifth floor. The stale smell of old paint and faint mildew greeted me, but I’d grown used to it. By the time I stepped through my door, my muscles had relaxed slightly.
The mismatched furniture, cozy lighting, and carefully hidden arsenal of weapons made the apartment feel like mine. Against all odds, I’d carved out a space that felt safe in a world that never was.
For now, it was enough.
The warm glow of dozens of monitors greeted me. Vivian’s tech setup dominated the living room, an array of screens, each one displaying something different: security feeds, code streams, maps of The Below, and real-time surveillance of gods knew what. It was Vivian’s domain, and she ruled it like the queen she was.
The apartment itself was a weird blend of sleek modernity and personal chaos. The furniture was dark and minimalist with clean lines and sharp angles, all carefully curated to keep a lowprofile. But among the modern aesthetic were touches of the two of us. My half of the space was cluttered with tools, blades, and the odd jacket draped over a chair, while Vivian’s half was immaculate, save for the maze of cables and equipment she constantly tinkered with.
Vivian sat at the center of it all, perched in front of her screens like a spider in its web, her long chestnut hair pulled up into a loose bun. She was all sharp angles and grace, intimidatingly beautiful without even trying. Her black-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of her nose as her fingers flew over her keyboard, her focus unbreakable. To most, she was a nerd in a sea of code, but I knew better. Behind that calm, collected exterior was one of the sharpest minds I’d ever encountered. And the only person in the world I truly trusted.
“Hey, Viv,” I greeted as I slipped off my jacket and tossed it onto the couch.
She glanced at me briefly, her blue eyes flicking up over the top of her glasses before returning to the screen. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been up to no good.”
I grinned. “Always.”
She sighed, pushing her glasses up and swiveling in her seat to face me. “So, are you going to tell me what tonight’s little adventure was about? Or do I have to hack into Roberto’s network to find out?”
I kicked off my boots and made my way to the small kitchen, where I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “Easy gig. Played some cards, took some intel. And, no, I have no clue what he will use the keycard for. And I honestly couldn’t care less. You know, it was just your average night.”
“Sure,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “because anything involving Roberto isaverage.”
I took a sip of water, the cool liquid grounding me. “Speaking of not-so-average…”
