Playing with Fire

By Clare Meyers and Cris Meyers

The rules are simple: Get in. Get out. Get paid.

Loner Renee Devereaux is a thief with a lot to hide, and trust is a risk she rarely takes. Stone Anders is a mercenary and hitman, but being a hired killer isn’t fitting like it used to. But while they are criminals, they are anything but common. Renee and Stone are Talents, and their supernatural powers give them an edge in a high stakes business where one wrong move could be their last.

It’s always just one job, and everyone scatters—sometimes in less than favorable circumstances. For Renee and Stone, that’s business as usual. But things change.

A chance at revenge draws Renee and Stone into a job they know they shouldn’t take. The job: Steal a dangerous magical artifact before it can be used. Along with the deadline, they’ll have to deal with a loudmouth hacker with problematic connections, a rookie who still believes in ‘right’ and ‘wrong,’ and a professional liar with a cat’s curiosity.

Worse, something just doesn’t feel right.

But this is their job. They have a reputation to maintain, a paycheck to earn, and a score to settle...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clare Meyers
• Release date: Aug 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370382521

Clare Meyers

Clare Meyers is the co-author of urban fantasy with her husband, Cris. Their current project is an adult urban fantasy heist series that features a band of supernatural criminals. Born and raised in Illinois, Clare still makes the Midwest her home. She met Cris in college, where they were both majoring in English. She wrote a few short stories on her own, but then two years ago, she and her husband decided to combine their efforts and see where it led. Their debut novel was just released.

Book preview

Moscow, January 1997

Une nuit seulement.

No encores. No unwanted attachments. Renee usually worked alone. Had for years—ever since she’d first gotten her start as a thief. Oh, she’d worked with others before—most thieves did. But it was always one job—one night only—then she was gone.

This was a job, nothing more. A temporary state of cooperation. She certainly wasn’t in this poorly-heated office building in the middle of the night to make friends. Just get in, get out, get paid.

Renee twisted her shoulder-length, dark red hair back and secured it in a chignon. She needed it up and out of her way anyway. But the movement, coupled with her position in the corner, provided cover for the other—far more critical—thing she was doing: studying the rest of this four person crew. And so far, Renee was not all that impressed, but then she hadn’t really expected to be either.

Hey, this your first time in Russia? Cool city, right? Get it, ‘cool?’ one of them—a tall, thin boy who was likely not even eighteen—called out from across the sparsely furnished room. Renee ignored him. He’d been hunched over that computer, talking pretty much nonstop since they’d arrived—twenty-five minutes ago. Everything she’d seen of him thus far screamed amateur. Then he waved his arms excitedly. Hellooo? Hey, Red!

Was he talking to her? She turned to look at him for a second then dismissed him without saying a word.

Get to work, Felix. That order came from the planner of this job, Marcus Isaacs. He didn’t even look up, too busy reviewing a large stack of equipment—far too large in Renee’s opinion—and sorting things into piles on the floor. You’re not being paid six figures each to run your mouths.

I can talk and type at the same time, ya know, the boy complained. "It’s called multitasking."

Just do what you’re told. We go in fifteen minutes, Marcus repeated sharply. From what her sources had told her, this man had decades of experience in the game, but she certainly hadn’t seen much evidence of it so far. He seemed to be getting more nervous as the clock counted down. The man struck her as a fool. Or he was lying. Problem was: Renee couldn’t decide which.

The boy made a face at the order then promptly ignored it. He continued to ramble—unwilling or simply unable to just shut up. I wonder if we’ll have time to see the Kremlin before leaving town.

We’re not tourists. The comment came from the far side of the room. Perfect. She’d been looking for a discreet way to get a better read of that third player anyway.

The man in question was standing in the opposite corner with his arms crossed. He looked similar to her in age, so odds were he was older than she was at 25, but only by a year or two. Appearances weren’t that deceiving. Yet. His dark blonde hair was on the longer side, the ends level with his chin. He was just letting it hang loose, either not bothering or not caring to put it up. And Renee could just barely make out some stubble on his chin—a five o’clock shadow, she believed the term was.

He had an air about him she recognized as familiar: the sort of maturity that came from experience, not age. Which fit, considering she was pretty sure he was former military. Even with his casual clothing—dark cargos, leather jacket—and the long hair, Renee could still see hints of it. In the way he held himself, in the way he was observing his surroundings, in the firearm she could tell lurked beneath that jacket. The man was tall and well-built. And it was clear he could handle himself, even though he hadn’t moved much since he’d arrived. He was also the only other person here acting like a professional. That mattered. At least there was someone else here that was disciplined.

But it was more complicated than attitude or appearance—he was like her. She had sensed the Talent in him—fire, above average in strength, unpolished—when he’d first arrived though she wasn’t completely sure—yet—if that was the extent of it. Too much scrutiny too soon and he might get suspicious of her in return. And she was certain he hadn’t picked up on her abilities.

No one in the business knew. Well, except for her mentor, Owen, but that was a given… She wasn’t foolish enough to think she could maintain the charade forever, but the longer she kept her abilities quiet, the better. If they didn’t know what she could do, then she had an edge.

More than one, actually. Fire and air were fairly straightforward. You could see flames and lightning. Even heat and wind could be felt. But aether magic was something else entirely. People relied on their senses to tell them things, and aether changed those rules. The other elements—earth and water—would remain forever closed to Renee. A Talent either had a connection to a given element, or they didn’t.

Marcus walked over with a veritable arsenal of crap and dumped it at her feet. Here’s your equipment.

Renee poked at the pile. What was all this? Did he really expect her to need it all? Tout cela? Non, douze mètres de corde, un miroir, et ... un petit couteau. At his blank look, she paused, as though she were carefully searching for the right words, and then translated slowly. Non. Twelve meters rope, a mirror, a… petit knife.

Judging from the look on his face, Renee would wager Marcus didn’t have any of the items she’d listed. She sighed. Just what kind of planner was this? Renee’s opinion of the man fell another notch. This would be the last time she accepted a job through that particular contact. And people wondered why she preferred to work alone…

Giving her an irritated look—as if it was her fault that he was unprepared—Marcus walked back over to his other piles and angrily sifted through them. After tossing items around, muttering under his breath the entire time, he extracted a rope and held it up. That acceptable?

Renee mentally measured out the length. It was about a meter short, but she could compensate for that if she had to. It was hardly ideal, but she nodded anyway. What other choice did she have? It was that or nothing. He returned to digging, this time pulling out a small compact mirror and tossing it at her.

Do any of the rest of you have a knife she can use? He glanced around the room before looking back at her. How long does it need to be?

Minimum de quinze centimètres. She held up a hand to indicate the approximate length. Renee could have answered in English. It might not flow off her tongue as easily, but after twelve years, she certainly spoke it well enough. She didn’t have to speak her native French.

But Marcus had assumed she couldn’t speak much English, and he hadn’t bothered to ask either. She probably wouldn’t have answered the man honestly if he had asked, but he’d rendered that point moot. And if that meant she lied to the rest of them, so be it.

He looked at the other two. Anyone?

The man standing in the corner moved. Crossing the room, he unbuckled something on his belt and drew a knife. It didn’t look like anything fancy: leather wrapped handle, straight cutting edge, no serrations. It was definitely a fighting knife, one that had obviously seen quite a bit of use. He flipped it and handed it to her handle-first. Here. Should be long enough.

Renee took it and considered it for a second. The knife was clearly well cared for, and more importantly, it was just about perfect in length. Merci.

De rien.

Her gaze slowly rose, meeting his pale green eyes. He was watching her closely, but she kept her face blank. Surprise, surprise. Whoever this man was, it seemed he knew at least some French. His pronunciation had been decent, and that particular sentence wasn’t in the standard array of beginner phrases. Vous parlez français?

Oui. He held out a hand. Stone Anders.

She acknowledged the hand but didn’t take it. … Renee Devereaux. His senses clearly weren’t strong enough to recognize other Talents without physical contact. It took a certain level of power and training to develop them, and not all Talents bothered. His immediate attempt at a handshake had been a tell of sorts in that regard. But he’d know in an instant if she touched him—not just that she was Talented but the specifics too.

That was not the only reason she didn’t take his extended hand. As a rule, she didn’t touch others nor allow them to touch her, preferring to maintain that distance. If she chose to make an exception, that was her call to make. Not anyone else’s.

While this man was far preferable to the other people here, he was still very much an unknown. The fact that he understood any of her language meant she’d have to be even more careful around him, not just watching what she did but also what she said. And that much of his claim she believed—to a point. She’d withhold judgment on him actually speaking it until he’d said more than two or three words in French.

A quick look passed across Stone’s face as he took back his hand. Of course, he would recognize a dodge when he saw it. She might have tipped her own hand a bit there, but she could explain it away if she had to. I’ll want that back when we’re done. I like that knife.

"Am I the only one not surprised that he has a favorite knife? the computer hacker chimed in, looking up from his screen and giving Stone a commiserating look. But hey, dude, don’t feel bad. You got farther than I did. At least she actually talked to you. She ignored me completely. I didn’t even know she could talk ‘cuz all I got was the same frosty look she’s had on her face since she walked in. Don’t get me wrong, I dig the whole I’m-too-sexy thing, but geez. Anyway, if you’re done trading valentines, we’ve got stuff to do."

The look in Stone’s eyes told Renee exactly what he thought of the third contractor on their crew. It was a look that said ‘let me punch him, just once.’ And she could see the merit in letting Stone do it. A good, solid punch might curtail the boy’s incessant babbling.

Stone turned and gave the hacker an impatient look. "We’re all waiting on you, kid."

The boy gave a dramatic sigh. "It’s beautiful, let me tell you, though these systems are positively ancient. How does anybody get anything done around here? I mean, it’s all dial-up. I had to run my own phone lines just to get in. But to make a long story short, I’ve re-routed the alarms and telephones through my PC. Any alarm signal or emergency call will get stopped right here by yours truly."

And you needed a half hour to do that? Stone asked skeptically, echoing Renee’s thoughts on the matter. Computers weren’t her area of expertise, but if all they’d needed was to disable the alarms and landline telephones, there were easier ways to do it. More reliable ways too, as far as she was concerned.

That was a lot of work, I’ll have you know, the hacker protested. Then he proceeded to converse with himself—different tones, different voices, the whole performance. ‘Thank you, Felix.’ ‘You’re welcome, guy.’ ‘How can we help?’ ‘Aw, that’s so sweet.’ You know, in ten years, you guys are going to wonder how you ever made it this far without someone like me watching your back.

In ten years, you’ll be, what, finally old enough to drink? Stone shot back quickly, looking suitably unimpressed.

The hacker glared at Stone, but didn’t say anything more. He turned to Marcus. We’re ready, boss.

Good, Marcus stepped forward into the middle of the group. Now, we have a clear route from here to the storage in the cellar. The records we are looking for are in there. The mark has been moving money, artifacts, and artwork for years. The goal is to find out what he has and where it’s gone. Felix and I will be working off site. I’ll oversee things from here and make sure the guards are out of the way. You two will be going in. Just bring those records to me, get paid, and never have to talk to Felix here again.

Hey! the hacker sputtered. You don’t have to be mean about it.

Que cherchons-nous?

Felix and Marcus both looked blankly at Stone.

Oh for the love of… Stone said in a mildly irritated tone. What are we looking for, exactly? ‘Records’ isn’t particularly specific.

Everything from the last month. The information we need is in there. You two know what to do.

Oui, tous les travaux… she murmured. For all the man kept using the word ‘we,’ Renee couldn’t help but notice that he was not doing any of the work. And his plan wasn’t even that good. She turned to speak to Stone directly since Marcus wasn’t going to understand her anyway. Où sont-ils?

Much as he seemed to hate acting as translator for her, it was a role Stone was rather stuck with at this point. What they didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. And he had in effect volunteered by revealing that he understood her. That was all on him.

She watched as Stone mentally translated what she’d said, nodded, then turned to Marcus. Where are these things being kept?

Some of the records I need are physical files. According to my sources, those are in the safe in the storage room, all nice and labeled. Just grab the files for December and January. You should be able to carry a handful of folders without a problem. I’m sure you can find someplace to put them. Marcus looked Renee up and down.

Outwardly, her face remained expressionless, but inside she was rolling her eyes. If he was hoping for a reaction, he would have to deal with disappointment. He wouldn’t be getting one.

After a moment, he turned to Stone. The rest of what I need is on their archive computer, also in the cellar but a few doors down. And young Mr. Felix here has provided a portable hard drive and cables so you can copy them. There is a computer tech who monitors the archives, but he shouldn’t be an issue. If he is, well, you’ll deal with it.

At Marcus’ nod, the hacker grinned proudly and walked over, handing Stone what looked like a plastic case and a wire. This little baby is awesome. It works kinda like a PlayStation memory card. Only instead of plugging into the console directly, you’ll need to plug this wire into the server and the hard drive, and go from there. There should be some port on it that it slots into. Then you locate the files we need. Once you copy them to this, we’re golden. It’s foolproof, he finished with a smile. That had barely sounded like English, and it didn’t look like Stone had understood much of it either. Turning to Marcus, the boy added, I still don’t see why you don’t want me doing this.

Because you’re needed here. He’ll manage. Marcus’ tone brooked no argument. Then he turned his back on Renee and continued reviewing his plan with the boys. Which was fine with her. The last thing she wanted was him telling her how to do her job.

Taking full advantage of their distraction, Renee walked over to the blueprints Marcus had spread out on the table. She wanted to see what he’d been looking at for herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him… Oh, wait, it was exactly that. And while these plans were clearly marked as their target, they were slightly different from what the man had described earlier.

C’est étrange, she murmured quietly to herself. She made a quick study of these plans, getting a feel for the layout and making a note of the exits—at least two of which hadn’t been mentioned before at all. Renee couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. That there was something Marcus wasn’t telling them.

A quick glance at the others showed that they were still too busy going over the technical aspect of this plan to have paid any attention to what she was up to. Technology, ugh… She could admit it had its uses, but most of it held no appeal for her. Though it was keeping them occupied.

The only person who might have noticed anything was Stone. The others definitely would have said something if they’d seen or heard her, but Stone she was less sure of. The man paid attention; that much was obvious. Whether he’d have said anything if he had seen something was not.

The possibility couldn’t be ignored or forgotten, but she’d deal with it when it came up.

Quickly wrapping up with the blueprints, Renee returned to her position in the corner, back to watching and waiting. The hacker was still enthusiastically demonstrating the correct method for plugging in his toy and transferring the files. Listening to that boy talk more was probably the last thing Stone wanted to do, but he was restraining himself pretty well. And Marcus was standing with them, adding a comment here and there.

Renee ran the plan in her head again, trying to spot the weakness. It wasn’t the way she would’ve done this particular job—not in the slightest—but the man had been adamant. They’d be going over from a neighboring building—where they were currently gathered, in fact—and entering their target from the roof. Security on the roof access door was non-existent, just a simple lock.

From there, they would make their way down to the cellar five floors below. According to Marcus, the guards should not be an issue—though he hadn’t been at all specific on the particulars, much to Renee’s annoyance. The alarms were supposed to be taken care of as well—either they wouldn’t go off or the hacker would intercept any calls for help. Though how anyone was supposed to believe that boy was law enforcement was beyond Renee. But that still left…

Qu’en est-il des caméras de sécurité? she asked, attracting their attention.

Cameras are already taken care of, the hacker answered quickly. Both Stone and Marcus gave him confused looks. "What? Does ‘caméras’ mean something else in Belgian?" Did that boy really not at least recognize spoken French? Just because this wasn’t his precious virtual world… ‘Belgian’ wasn’t even a language. "Anyway, I got it handled. Short version: I made a recording last night while we were all waiting for you guys to show up. See, I’ve been on the job for a few days now. Anyway, I’ll hijack their camera footage—"

"This is the short version?" Stone interrupted.

The hacker stuck his tongue out. Actually stuck his tongue out at Stone. L’enfant. Anyway… I’ve created a loop of the old footage and I’ll patch that through to their security monitors from here.

And that’s going to work? Stone asked, looking very doubtful.

Dude, it’s a classic for a reason. Here, I’ll show you. He motioned everyone over to his terminal. See here? This feed is what’s actually happening; the other is what's feeding to security. Oh, they’ll catch on eventually, but by then, we’ll all be on planes to somewhere far, far away. The boy got a faraway look in his eyes, as though he were daydreaming about wherever he was planning to hide out after the job. That was not a good sign. His mind needed to be here, on the job. Not already celebrating victory.

We have a job to do. Maybe you three should stop chitchatting and get to it, Marcus interrupted. Go and get me those files so we can all get out of here.

2

So tell me again why we needed to go in through the rooftop? she heard the wince in Stone’s voice as the ice-cold wind whipped across his face. Renee knew the feeling. Her own leather jacket wasn’t any more suitable for Moscow in January than his was. Anything heavier, however, and it would just get in the way. But at least it wasn’t snowing.

No security on the roof, dude. Just a locked door, came the reply through the earpiece. Why? Too cold?

"Do you want to be out here? There was silence on the radio. Yeah, didn’t think so."

Renee was just finishing up with the door lock when she swore she heard something. A quick look over her shoulder revealed nothing. Just Stone waiting not so patiently for her to get the door open.

No, that had sounded like an engine. Whatever it was, it was a surprise—and those were pretty much always unwelcome, particularly on the job. She wrapped up what she was doing, but instead of opening the door, Renee rose from her crouch and went to the edge of the roof to look for herself. She supposed she could have asked Stone, but why?

Stone reacted immediately, following her. Probably wondering what she was up to. What?

Ce camion, she said, pointing down at a delivery truck that had just pulled up below them.

Someone expecting a delivery tonight? Stone asked, joining her and frowning down at the new arrival.

Marcus piped in through the radio. It doesn’t matter. Stay on point. If anything, they’ll distract the guards outside.

Renee’s eyes narrowed. It should—it did matter. But she kept her silence. The sooner this job was over, the sooner she would never have to deal with Marcus Isaacs again. That hacker too.

"And why didn’t we think of using a delivery truck as an entrance?" Stone asked. It was clear he wasn’t impressed with the plan either. Renee’s opinion of Stone rose slightly. If she was going to be out in the field with any one of these thieves, she’d rather it was this one. The risk he presented notwithstanding, at least Stone seemed to know what he was about.

Get. Moving.

Stone grumbled something unflattering. Is the rope secure?

Il sera, she replied before going inside to anchor it in the old elevator shaft that would be their way down. Marcus had told them there were two banks of elevators in the building. This one wasn’t currently working, but it was supposed to be off the usual guard walkthrough.

It would be a quick trip, as long as they were quiet. Five floors down, find the right files, and get back out without anyone knowing. Just as simple as it sounded. Sure. If only Renee could believe that.

*

Rendez-vous là-bas. Without waiting for a response, Renee grabbed hold of the rope and swiftly made her descent. As she reached the end of the too-short rope, she dropped the remaining three meters.

A few moments passed before Stone landed beside her. She considered him for a second; he hadn’t made much more noise than she had. Not going back that way.

Non, nous sommes pas. Renee agreed, keeping her other thoughts on the matter to herself. It would not change anything and thinking about it now would just be a distraction. Besides, she’d already worked out an alternative exit strategy, though she’d be keeping that to herself. Someone couldn’t counter a plan they didn’t know existed.

Renee looked around. The workmen appeared to have propped open all the elevator doors on all the floors, presumably to make for easier access for the repairs, and this one was no exception. Whatever the reason, it allowed for a reasonably clear view of the landing. And it meant they didn’t need to worry about prying the doors open and risking attracting attention.

She didn’t see any guards by the elevator, but she could hear voices coming from her left—which, of course, was the direction they needed to go. From the look on Stone’s face, he’d heard them too.

Renee pulled out the mirror to see what they were up against. Four guards in the hall, blocking the way. Two of them were only a few meters down, chatting about something. Their movements were animated, so theirs must be the voices they were hearing. The other two were further down, blocking the archive room door. Those two were standing at attention, no idle chatter passing between them.

So much for Marcus taking care of them.

She tossed the mirror at Stone, who promptly took a look. He swore under his breath.

Quatre. Et ils sont armés. This was getting more complicated by the minute. They couldn’t both accomplish what they set out to do without dealing with these guards. And she couldn’t deal with the four armed guards without giving herself away to Stone. Avez-vous une idée?

A smile appeared on his face. Well then…

Après vous. Renee stepped back so Stone could pass.

The air immediately around them started to heat. Renee recognized what was happening immediately: Stone was using his Talent. And he clearly wasn’t concerned about her knowing what he could do. But while it was obvious he was casting a spell, exactly what form that spell would take wasn’t clear. Her senses could only tell her what Stone could do, not what he would do or how.

Just a little distraction… Sparks started dancing around Stone’s fingers.

One could do a lot with fire magic, but she hadn’t expected subtlety. That simply wasn’t what most people did with it. She tended to when she used fire, but Renee was hardly what anyone would consider ‘most people.’ That kind of magic was usually something bright and flashy. If not that, then it was probably something explosive.

So she was mildly impressed when all that happened at first was a bit of smoke from the lights above. Then the lights went out one by one. Some sparked, a few bulbs burst, and then came even more smoke followed by the yellow-red light of fire. He’d generated heat, not visible flames.

Gotta love bad wiring, she heard Stone mutter to himself.

The guards appeared to argue for a few seconds, but then all four of them cleared out and made for the stairs. Presumably to get help. Renee and Stone flattened themselves against the wall of the elevator shaft as the guards ran by. They waited a few moments to be sure the area was clear before moving in.

Got maybe a few minutes before they’re back. Work fast, Stone said before making for the computer room at the far end. Be back here in five.

The alarms had yet to go off. The hacker must have been doing his job. It was now her turn…

Once Stone was far enough away and she could reasonably guarantee some privacy, Renee formed her own spell in her mind. Guards couldn’t sneak up on what they couldn’t see.

Casting magic now was a risk. If Stone came looking for her before she was finished with the safe, then he’d know. Oh, he probably suspected after her refusal to shake his hand, and her lack of reaction to his own spell would have done little to dismiss those questions in his mind. Still, suspicions weren’t proof. There were other, completely plausible explanations for both things. Nothing to be done about it now; she’d just have to wait and see if it mattered.

She felt the cloak settle over