Eli knew this was a bad idea.
There was something off about this place. She couldn't put her finger on it, but a sense of unease crawled under her skin the first time she saw that hellhole. That feeling was still there after a week of struggle. Tonight was the night.
The mansion looked even more threatening in the dark, foggy woods, even though nothing had changed as far as Eli could see in the past few days in her stakeouts. It was as if the building had a character, a monster or ogre, capable of tearing her apart but choosing to take a nap instead, breathing heavily.
Eli sighed deeply and eyed the tall old pine tree beside the west wall of the mansion. One last look from an upper angle wouldn't hurt, she thought to herself. She grabbed a branch strong enough to hold her weight and dragged herself up, climbing the tree as quietly as she could. She squated on the branch, keeping her balance under her toes. The tree barely moved, and she made almost no sound in climbing. There was only the hushed rustling of her leather boots and woollen cape. Knowing she had the skills to rely on not waking the beast of a mansion was comforting, at least. Eli narrowed her eyes to have one last look at the house before starting this suicide mission.
She hoped that in these last moments, she might catch a trace of the life of the only inhabitant of the house—something she hadn't found in the previous few days despite her stake out. Eli knew someone was living in that mansion, but she couldn't prove it from the outside. And she didn't get any help from Mother Nature that night. The dark clouds in the night sky refused to give her a chance to see any better.
The mansion was one step away from falling apart. It was as if it had been hit by lightning, shaken by an earthquake, burned in flames, and drawn in flood simultaneously. From the chipped pillars, sooty door gates, fallen balconies, and headless gargoyles, Eli could only guess it used to be a majestic granite building one day. Now, it was deserted—almost. But with the broken windows, an untrimmed jungle of bushes in the yard, a rusted fountain, and wild ivy branches suffocating the outer walls and the hedges, Eli doubted anyone survived there.
Even though she spent almost a week lurking outside the mansion, she still wasn't sure about the best strategy to break in as fast as possible, steal a precious ruby—she didn't even know what it looked like or where it was hidden—and get out before it was too late. Eli pressed her lips so as not to dwell on what "too late" might be.
Perfect. Fucking perfect.
She huffed, breaking the silence of the woods for a second, and a squirrel ran away to a tree somewhere.
But she couldn't go back to Malkan empty-handed. He would beat her to death, then fucked her many times to make her wish she was dead, and then beat her again. Not that she didn't appreciate the hate-fuck, but Malkan knew explicitly where good rough sex ends and where real unpleasant raping torture starts.
No, there was no going back, especially given Malkan's odd attitude before he assigned her to this theft.
Thinking back, she should have recognized that something was off from the start. She reviewed their last encounter thousands of times once again.
"Get your ass here, Eli." Malkan had barked, making Eli rush down the stairs above the tavern.
When Eli entered, he was alone, a massive wall of his broad shoulders facing her. He looked tensed, pacing the meeting room. There was no client in the room. But she heard the horses pulling the carriage with a sound of whiplash from outside. Apparently, whoever they were, they had just left.
"What?"
Malkan turned. He didn't say anything at first. He watched Eli for a long moment, his heavy, full brows tangled together, his dark eyes lost in thought. Eli blinked and it was as if he had held his breath the entire time. He inhaled deeply and turned his back to her again, heading to sit on his giant chair.
His throne.
Sunlight shined through the window into the room, casting light on Malkan's face and muscular arms. It was moments like this that made him less than the monster the world knew him to be. When he was not the underground king of this land, where no one would take as much a step without him knowing and allowing. In these rare moments, Eli could see the other side of him - the side not so many people knew existed, the side that could pass a human. Eli took in his jewelled fists, tense shoulders, and pressed lips disappearing in his black beard. She knew him enough to tell he was about to make a tough decision.
"Is it one of those fucked-up shitty days?" Eli smiled softly.
"Hmm..." he answered, distracted.
"Well…" Eli dared take a few steps toward him and settled herself on his left leg. His thigh was thick enough to make her a comfortable stool. She breathed him in, knowing no one else could stare at him this close. Not Emad, his second in command, and not any of those whores he occasionally fucks senselessly. Only she could be near him, inches away from him, and take in the light freckles on his nose and golden-tanned skin, his nasty deep scar that started under his left eye and would disappear in his beard. Eli knew it continued to his chin.
Malkan automatically wrapped his hand around her ass, still lost in thought. She leaned forward and touched the fabric of his leather pants on the crotch.
"I don't think there's any fucked-up shit that won't go away with a good blowjob."
"Listen…" Malkan faced Eli. He was serious. Things must have been deadly critical if he was turning down her lips around his cock.
Malkan took a loud, deep breath. "I want you to do a heist," he said, his voice low.
"That's it?" Eli was half disappointed, "That is all this brooding for?"
"No. Listen…" Malkan said again, "It's solo, and I want you not to mention it to the rest of the gang. It's big but delicate. I want you to do it clean."
"Hey, I always do it clean. Just gimme the details, and I'll be back by dawn," Eli didn't understand why he was tense.
"No, it's not one of those. You have one week to do the job. It's out of town."
"How far?"
"It's a deserted mansion at the foot of the Dawl mountains."
"What the fuck!" She objected, "That's half a day away by foot."
"That's not the tricky part."
"Then what is?" Eli was starting to worry.
Malkan took another heavy breath. "I want you to grab a ruby from there. I don't know how big the ruby is or where it could be hidden."
"That's ok."
"Let me finish," Malkan growled. He was on edge. "I haven't told you who owns the house."
"Who?" She asked, frowning. Her voice had become uneasy.
Malkan runs his large fingers through his man bun. "There is a mage living in that house. I don't know him, but he's been locked up in his place. Some kind of house arrest. I need you to get into his mansion, find the ruby, grab it before he finds out, and get yourself out of there as quickly as possible."
All Eli could say was, "Oh…".
She took a deep breath. Now here she was, in front of the mansion, six days after their conversation, lurking in the dark on a damn pine tree.
The sky was cloudy enough to cover the moon. It was pitch black. There was no wind blowing, and she knew her shiver had nothing to do with the weather. The silence in the woods was unnatural. It was as if the whole world had held its breath, witnessing Eli walk into her own death. Everything was different when it came to mages.
She closed her eyes, focusing to stop a shiver that ran through her spine.
Mages were no joke. No one would dare to fool around them. They were rare, unpredictable, terrifying, and ruthless. People would end up dead if they were poking their noses around in any mage business. And now Eli was trying to steal a precious and probably magical stone from one of them, who was dangerous enough to get locked up in his house by his kind.
Fucking…perfect.
She surveyed the house one last time, eying the house beyond the muddy hedges from the branch she was sitting on. Around the mansion, short walls were built, all covered with wild ivy. The branches and thorns were tangled together, and she couldn't see the other side of the wall on foot.
The double iron gates of the house were no better. The bars were rusted with cobwebs between the metal fences. There were no signs of movement in the mouldy and half-ruined remains of a fountain, a few benches, and a gazebo in front of the house. They were well hidden in the moonless night.
There were no signs of life beyond broken windows. Eli wasn't even sure if the mage was alive, and Malkand didn't know either. In all the six days Eli had been monitoring the house, she had found no evidence in that regard, even when she threw rocks at the house to see if anyone would come to check the perimeter. But no one showed up. No one had passed through the windows, no light was on, and not even the birds dared to fly over the house.
Eli gritted her teeth and came down from the tree with a soft thud. "Here goes nothing," she whispered, unbuckling her cape and leaving it behind. That would only slow her down.
Without a second thought, she jumped, grabbed one of the thorny branches of the ivy with her gloved hands, and pulled herself up.
The leaves and branches were dry and crumbled under her hand's pressure. Eli snarled. She braced her feet against the wall through the tendrils. She put as much weight on her legs as possible, clutched the branches harder, and climbed up. The wall was short, and Eli reached the top with one or two more pushes. It was covered in dust and leaves, and she had to stop momentarily on the edge to pull out the thorns embedded in her gloves.
No sound came from inside. The mage -if he was even alive, did not seem to understand that someone was sitting on the wall of his house.
Eli wiped the cold sweat on her forehead with her dusty glove hand and jumped swiftly and silently.
When her feet hit the ground on the other side of the wall, colours, shapes, and even smells altered, and a new air surrounded her. Eli stood up straight, frozen and terrified.
"Fuck" She whispered.