The Wrong Pick

My hands twirled the pouch of coins in an experienced manner. I could feel the slick of the lock pick pressed up against my wrist, secured tight with a thief’s bracelet. I could always feel it, always aware of where it was and how to use it and when best to make my move. Strolling leisurely through the town’s narrow streets, I tucked the pouch away.

I had a big score soon.

There were things I needed to know.

The pick slid down my wrist as I slipped in front of a door, shadowed by the cover of a falling structure nearby. I palmed it, unnoticeably plugging it into the lock and freeing the latch in seconds. With a warning glance at my surroundings, I moved through the unlocked door.

“You’re late.” The voice was gravelly and irritated as it hissed at me. I turned around to find the green eyes of a redheaded man, full of impatience and fury. I snickered.

“The only thing that matters,” I said, dangling the pouch I had tucked away earlier, “is what I will pay.”

“That never excused tardiness,” the redhead said as he swiveled around. I knew him just barely as an underground messenger - a carrier of information for wandering thieves. He was one not to be messed with, though, as his information usually came from unfortunate circumstances. Word on the street was he went by the Mockingbird.

The Mockingbird moved away from me, nodding his head forward to tell me to follow. I did, warily trailing his footsteps. He stopped before a thick black door, bobbing his head.

“Payment,” he said. I flicked the pouch of coins into his hands, and he pressed the door open. The Mockingbird grunted his retorts as I entered the room.

There was a woman.

Her eyes were wide, gleaming against the dull pulsing light above. Her raven black hair was matted and her clothes were tattered as she sat shriveled on the floor, frail and thin. I glanced back at the door again with a grimace. This was rather inhumane on the Mockingbird’s part.

“Who are you?” I asked her.

“No one - I swear.”

“Clearly you’re someone if the Mockingbird has you here.”

She shook her head, moving away from me. “I’m no one.”

I raised a brow, pressing my lips flat. “Are you alright?” She was beautiful, in a way, with sharp cheekbones and vibrant eyes, but her sunken skin and drooping eyelids gave away her exhaustion. She didn’t look injured, but she didn’t look well.

“I’m fine,” she said. She frowned, folding her hands over her stomach. “If you really must know, I’m Leah Amelia.”

I struggled to keep my emotions in check as she said her name. Leah Amelia. “The daughter of Rick Amelia?” She nodded, short and curt, and I stifled a response. I couldn’t believe my luck. I couldn’t believe what the Mockingbird had found me.

The high and esteemed Rick Amelia was the owner of the largest accessible loot most of the thieves I’d come across had found - a playing card crafted out of a special rare material, worth millions on the market. None of them had the nerve to face the Amelia house though, not without inside information on the job. The daughter of the Amelia household was exactly what I needed to ensure the mission was a success.

Leah Amelia was my lockpick.

“Well,” she started, giving me a once over. “I might as well know who you are too, right?”

I smiled. “I’m called the Phantom. But you’re more than welcome to call me Keith.”

I spoke with her for hours. She warmed up to me after a while, her posture noticeably loosening, and information came easier. By the end of our conversation, a promise had been made - my access to her father’s house and treasures for her safe return home. It was ingenious, a win-win situation. It was a perfect display of my cunning.

We had taken a carriage to Amelia house, courtesy of a particularly angry Mockingbird. The Amelia girl was hesitant to follow, but after some coaxing, she didn’t put up much of a fight. Her trust in a couple of thieves seemed to wear thin, and I didn’t blame her for it. Placing a steadying hand on her back, I eased her out of the carriage as we made our stop.

The Amelia house.

It was a stunning place, bathed in riches that poured from every extravagant crevice. It was no surprise that this place held the most desirable loot for the thieves of the area. It was practically asking to be stolen from.

Leah pressed her hands together, twining her fingers tightly in a nervous gesture. “My father won’t be home for a while, so this is probably your best time to take whatever it is that you want to take,” she whispered.

I followed her to the house, then, letting the Amelia heiress feign control. She had given me everything I needed earlier, and she was about to give me even more. With her opening the door for me, I was just a guest. A friend of the Amelia girl. I was nothing more, certainly not some simple thief looking for a big score. She had given me the layout of the house, the security system in place - everything.

I was guaranteed this win.

“Ah,” she said as she wiggled the doorknob. “I don’t have my keys on me. Could you maybe pick this?”

“Of course,” I said with a lazy grin. My hand grazed the door, and just as fast, the door was open.

As it opened, though, I was wafted with a wave of uncertainty. This house . . . it didn’t look anything like what Leah had told me earlier. The layout I was previously given was entirely wrong. As I turned to confront her, I found myself being shoved into the open doorway and onto the slick tiled ground. 

The Amelia girl was grinning wickedly as she did it.

Then-

Sound - blaring, obnoxious sound. An alarm. She had pushed me into a movement detector. I scrambled to my feet, turning to her abruptly. She crossed her arms, tiptoeing into the house.

“You are so gullible,” she laughed, ducking around me. As I made my move to abandon the house, her foot came out and slipped in front of mine, knocking me on my face. “Ah ah. I’m getting paid double here. One for a thief,” she started. Her eyes glimmered as she flicked her hand into the pocket of her pants and ripped out a card, a silver ace of spades. A duplicate of what I had come for. A fake - meant for her to swap with the real one. “And one for a very expensive card.”

“You aren’t Leah Amelia, are you?” I asked her.

She chuckled. “That’s the only thing I wasn’t lying about, Phantom. I most certainly am. I just forgot to mention that I have some big scores to make, too.” She raised a brow, shrugging. “Whoops.”

I sat up and shook my head. This girl was never in trouble with the Mockingbird, I realized. I was just a con - for the both of them.

She tapped my head with the fake card. “Thanks for making this so easy, little thief. You gave me the perfect opportunity to get away with my own robbery. Now I have a little trade to make with some of my daddy’s belongings, and I can’t have you running off while I’m doing that.” Leah crouched in front of me as she cocked her head to the side. “Long story short, Phantom, night night.”

Then a white cloth was in her hands, thick with the stench of chemicals, and she pressed it onto my face in one swift motion.

It took mere seconds for me to see darkness. For me to want it.

My last thought as I looked into her cold, conning eyes was-

She was the wrong pick.