Page 72 of Their Reckless Thief
“This isn’t over,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “This isn’t fucking over.”
I knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and for a moment, we were silent as we stared down at the body. My mind was already whirling, trying to piece together what the hell this meant.
This was a perfect example of our own magistrates, and the Veil Guard, not doing their fucking jobs. They were incompetent, at the very least, which is why I was tasked with keeping the streets safe in my territory.
As I turned to leave, a small white square attached to the body caught my eye. It was near her right shoulder, half pressed into the concrete beneath her. I gently pulled it away and scanned the note.
If you ever step into my territory again, it’ll be Celeste.
The Shadow had sent a warning. Fuck that, it was a declaration of war, and I wouldn’t let it go unanswered.
Dorian took the note from me. “How the fuck does he know about Celeste?”
“He’s the Lord of Illusions, Dorian. Don’t you think he’s using every trick up his sleeve to keep tabs on us?” I rose to my feet, turning to Camilla. “Clean this up. And Dorian? Increase security.”
The Shadow had crossed a line, but before I could figure out how to retaliate, every bone in my body knew I needed to get to Celeste.
I had to protect her.
21
LUCA
The cottage was too fuckingquiet. It was located on The Shadow’s estate and where I typically slept when he wanted me to stay close. It was a great option to catch a few hours of sleep in between assignments.
I’d spent the night tossing and turning on the narrow bed, my mind refusing to settle. The mattress was firm, the sheets scratchy, and the place reeked of wood smoke from the old fireplace that barely managed to keep the chill at bay. It wasn’t the physical discomfort that had kept me awake, though. It was the looming dread of the day ahead.
I rolled out of bed as the sun began to rise, stretching until my joints cracked. The small space felt even smaller with the weight pressing on my chest.
After Vincenzo and Dorian had left last night, The Shadow had given me very clear instructions. He wanted me to visit the hospital, get a progress update, and report back. Simple enough. Except nothing about that hospital was simple. It reeked of desperation, of decay, and of lives slipping through fingers like grains of sand.
I grabbed a protein bar from the cabinet and leaned against the counter as I unwrapped it. The cottage’s kitchen was sparse—barely more than a sink, a single burner, and a few cabinets filled with canned goods and non-perishables. I wasn’t the type to indulge in long, elaborate meals. Food was fuel, nothing more. And right now, I needed enough of it to get me through the day without losing my temper.
Protein bars were one of the few things humans had gotten right, so I stocked up on them whenever I left The Below.
As I bit into the bar, I tried to prepare myself mentally. The hospital always did something to me, a creeping unease that settled into my bones. It wasn’t the sickness itself that got to me—it was what it represented. The fragility of life, the relentless march of time, the inevitability of loss. It dragged up memories I’d rather keep buried and reminded me of what I’d lost in moments of weakness. Relationships, trust, people who’d mattered... all just ghosts now.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed those thoughts aside. I needed to keep my head clear. The Shadow wouldn’t tolerate excuses if I didn’t come back with the information he wanted.
I closed my eyes and veilstepped.
The hospital was a world away from the quiet of the cottage. The moment I arrived, the scent of antiseptic and sickness hit me like a punch to the gut. It was sharp and invasive, mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood that lingered in the air. The sound was worse—coughing, labored breathing, the occasional murmur of a nurse, or the shuffle of feet down the sterile white halls. I hated it.
I made my way to the nurse’s station, my boots echoing softly on the tiled floor. A woman with tired eyes glanced up at me, clearly startled by my sudden appearance. She didn’t say anything, just gestured toward a chair. I ignored it.
“I need to speak to the physician on call,” I said flatly.
The nurse hesitated for a moment, then nodded and picked up the phone. Her voice was hushed, her eyes darting nervouslyto me as she spoke. I could feel her unease, but I was used to it. People always reacted that way around me, especially in The Shadow’s territory.
Within a few minutes, a dark-haired man in a white lab coat appeared. He approached with a confident stride, but I could see the wariness in his eyes. His name was embroidered on his coat: Dr. Sam Ellis. Not that it mattered. I wouldn’t remember it.
“Luca,” he said, his tone measured. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“The Shadow wants an update. Walk me through it.”
Dr. Ellis gave a curt nod and gestured for me to follow. We moved down the hall, past rooms that reeked of sickness and despair. Each step felt heavier than the last, the oppressive atmosphere pressing down on me.
We stopped at the first room, and the doctor opened the door. Inside, a woman sat propped up on a hospital bed, her skin pale and clammy. She was eating broth, her hands trembling slightly as she brought the spoon to her lips. She glanced at us briefly, her eyes hollow, before turning her attention back to her food.
