She had been careful, perhaps too careful, laying low between jobs, putting as much distance between herself and those who knew of her existence as was humanly - for she was only human - possible. She held no great love for Rhy'Din - England was and always would be home - but a girl had to eat, and this girl liked to eat well. Up to now, she had never been caught; at least, not by those who sought to bring her to justice. She was as graceful and aloof as a cat, preferring a solitary life without complications and entanglements. Though it allowed her a certain freedom, it was a lonely life. If she was very careful, this last job might change all that - the job to end all jobs.
She had been watching the building for some weeks, noting the comings and goings of those who lived there. There was a pattern in most people's lives, if one took the time to study it, and that of her mark's was no different than anyone else. He was an attractive man, to be sure, but she had known plenty of attractive men in her life and had found most of them to be selfish and vain. Attractive though he was, he was not the true mark. She was no assassin, nor was she a common thief. What had drawn her to this place, this particular night was a treasure so valuable she could simply not resist. How she had learned of it was not important. She had learned over the years that a few inquiries and a little bribery to the right person would often buy her the information she needed with very little effort. The apartment was empty - she had made sure of that - and thanks to her informant, she knew just where to look.
Quite why a professor who traveled for many months on a regular basis was holding such a valuable piece in his own apartment was a bit of a stretch to imagine, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the security system she would have to fool in order to get to her prize. Though the apartment was quite ordinary from the outside - for a penthouse, that was - her information had gifted her with a plethora of clues about the layout. There were the standard rooms, of course; the kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom, a study ....what she was going to attempt was the converted second bedroom of the suite.
This professor was not absent-minded - he knew the value of his possessions, however they had come into his hands, and in order to protect the most valuable of them, he had had his second bedroom converted into a form of security vault. A thick steel door secured with a complex combination lock barred the way, and once within, there were pressure sensors and traps to trip up any thief. The one piece she was after lay cushioned on black velvet, seemingly unprotected to the casual, untrained eye.
Ah, but her eye was not untrained, nor was she without the skills and tools necessary to accomplish her task. She had stood on the cusp of stealing his most prized treasure more than once. The combination was child's play for one such as her, and she was nimble enough to avoid the complex array of traps he had set, and yet, she had hesitated to take it. Her plan was flawless and perfect, her skills unmatched by the most masterful of thieves, and yet, it was the woman's conscience that had set her up for failure, without even knowing it. Perhaps she had dug too deeply into the life of her mark. She knew who he was and she knew he did not need such a treasure, not nearly as much as she did. She knew, too, from her informant of the tragedy he'd suffered, not so unlike her own, and this was the only flaw in her plan - this part of herself that was human. Despite all his defenses, his greatest treasure lay right before her. All she had to do was reach out and take it.
Unfortunately, her research into his whereabouts this evening had one tiny flaw itself - he was home early. The vault had one secret he hadn't shared with anyone; a little magical cantrip that let him know when someone was inside it. Hence, he was home, moving quietly through his own front door to flip the nearest switch. A switch that silently secured every exterior door and window in the place; even if she got past him with her prize, there was no way she was getting out of the penthouse.
Confident that no thief would have come armed into this place and ignored everything else that was easier to get to, the professor wandered to the doorway of his own vault, leaning there with his arms folded. "Not quite what I would expect of a thief, but infinitely better to look at while we wait for the Watch."
What was it that was holding her back from taking the bauble" It wasn't like it was the only thing of worth in the apartment and certainly not the only thing of worth in all of Rhy'Din. Surely, there were easier ways to make a living, but at that moment, she couldn't think of one of them. The only thing that stood between her and freedom was that bauble, not because she wanted it, but because someone else coveted it so much they were willing to go to any length to obtain it. She wasn't so sure what all the fuss was about. In the end, it was just a green rock, but she had learned not to question, only to comply. Life was simpler that way for everyone.
Though she had broken into his home, she had not yet touched the emerald that lay a hands' breadth away, fingers twitching to touch it. So lost in thought was she, that she didn't hear him enter. It was only his voice that startled her out of her thoughts, whirling to face him, eyes flashing, though not with anger. "I hate to disappoint you, but I have no intentions of being caught like a mouse in a trap."
"Please, feel free to try and get out." He gestured for her to do her worst, confident in his security system. There were distinct advantages to being a Granger, and this was one he had taken full advantage of when he had moved off the estate and away from his mother and sisters. "I wouldn't recommend trying the door onto the roof, though. It's electrified."
Her voice had a ring to it that told him she was not a native of Rhy'Din. Her accent was closer to that of his cousin's wife, Victoria Granger, clearly bearing an English lilt. "Well, aren't you clever?" she asked, a little sarcastically. "Let them arrest me then. I'm sure I can find a way out of their little prison easily enough."
"You assume that I would allow them to remove you from here without first discovering your point and purpose in stealing something that has great sentimental value to me," he pointed out. "They tend to take a while when I call them. We could be in this stand off for hours." He straightened, rubbing a hand over his cropped hair. "I assume you already know, but I was brought up with some manners. Dominic Granger. I won't say it's a pleasure to meet you."
She was apparently not the type to force her way out of such a situation. The very thought of using force or harming another individual was abhorrent to her. She was no murderer, though she'd do what she had to do to protect those she held dear. "Sentimental value?" she echoed. "People keep photos for sentimental value. Coveting jewels is merely a matter of greed." One brow twitched in curiosity. He was even better looking close up, she thought, but it was a fleeting though, one better left alone. "I know who you are, and I also know you'd hardly miss it."
"It was a gift," he told her, raising a brow. "From a man who saved my life at the risk of his own, because he wanted me to survive and see the birth of my son." As he spoke, his eyes darkened with long held pain, tempered with the fresher grief that would always touch those memories. "It's worth far more than its weight, and you would do well not to talk about things you can't possibly understand." His jaw clenched for a moment before he continued. "That jewel" Saved my wife's life after our son died."
She had been watching the building for some weeks, noting the comings and goings of those who lived there. There was a pattern in most people's lives, if one took the time to study it, and that of her mark's was no different than anyone else. He was an attractive man, to be sure, but she had known plenty of attractive men in her life and had found most of them to be selfish and vain. Attractive though he was, he was not the true mark. She was no assassin, nor was she a common thief. What had drawn her to this place, this particular night was a treasure so valuable she could simply not resist. How she had learned of it was not important. She had learned over the years that a few inquiries and a little bribery to the right person would often buy her the information she needed with very little effort. The apartment was empty - she had made sure of that - and thanks to her informant, she knew just where to look.
Quite why a professor who traveled for many months on a regular basis was holding such a valuable piece in his own apartment was a bit of a stretch to imagine, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the security system she would have to fool in order to get to her prize. Though the apartment was quite ordinary from the outside - for a penthouse, that was - her information had gifted her with a plethora of clues about the layout. There were the standard rooms, of course; the kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom, a study ....what she was going to attempt was the converted second bedroom of the suite.
This professor was not absent-minded - he knew the value of his possessions, however they had come into his hands, and in order to protect the most valuable of them, he had had his second bedroom converted into a form of security vault. A thick steel door secured with a complex combination lock barred the way, and once within, there were pressure sensors and traps to trip up any thief. The one piece she was after lay cushioned on black velvet, seemingly unprotected to the casual, untrained eye.
Ah, but her eye was not untrained, nor was she without the skills and tools necessary to accomplish her task. She had stood on the cusp of stealing his most prized treasure more than once. The combination was child's play for one such as her, and she was nimble enough to avoid the complex array of traps he had set, and yet, she had hesitated to take it. Her plan was flawless and perfect, her skills unmatched by the most masterful of thieves, and yet, it was the woman's conscience that had set her up for failure, without even knowing it. Perhaps she had dug too deeply into the life of her mark. She knew who he was and she knew he did not need such a treasure, not nearly as much as she did. She knew, too, from her informant of the tragedy he'd suffered, not so unlike her own, and this was the only flaw in her plan - this part of herself that was human. Despite all his defenses, his greatest treasure lay right before her. All she had to do was reach out and take it.
Unfortunately, her research into his whereabouts this evening had one tiny flaw itself - he was home early. The vault had one secret he hadn't shared with anyone; a little magical cantrip that let him know when someone was inside it. Hence, he was home, moving quietly through his own front door to flip the nearest switch. A switch that silently secured every exterior door and window in the place; even if she got past him with her prize, there was no way she was getting out of the penthouse.
Confident that no thief would have come armed into this place and ignored everything else that was easier to get to, the professor wandered to the doorway of his own vault, leaning there with his arms folded. "Not quite what I would expect of a thief, but infinitely better to look at while we wait for the Watch."
What was it that was holding her back from taking the bauble" It wasn't like it was the only thing of worth in the apartment and certainly not the only thing of worth in all of Rhy'Din. Surely, there were easier ways to make a living, but at that moment, she couldn't think of one of them. The only thing that stood between her and freedom was that bauble, not because she wanted it, but because someone else coveted it so much they were willing to go to any length to obtain it. She wasn't so sure what all the fuss was about. In the end, it was just a green rock, but she had learned not to question, only to comply. Life was simpler that way for everyone.
Though she had broken into his home, she had not yet touched the emerald that lay a hands' breadth away, fingers twitching to touch it. So lost in thought was she, that she didn't hear him enter. It was only his voice that startled her out of her thoughts, whirling to face him, eyes flashing, though not with anger. "I hate to disappoint you, but I have no intentions of being caught like a mouse in a trap."
"Please, feel free to try and get out." He gestured for her to do her worst, confident in his security system. There were distinct advantages to being a Granger, and this was one he had taken full advantage of when he had moved off the estate and away from his mother and sisters. "I wouldn't recommend trying the door onto the roof, though. It's electrified."
Her voice had a ring to it that told him she was not a native of Rhy'Din. Her accent was closer to that of his cousin's wife, Victoria Granger, clearly bearing an English lilt. "Well, aren't you clever?" she asked, a little sarcastically. "Let them arrest me then. I'm sure I can find a way out of their little prison easily enough."
"You assume that I would allow them to remove you from here without first discovering your point and purpose in stealing something that has great sentimental value to me," he pointed out. "They tend to take a while when I call them. We could be in this stand off for hours." He straightened, rubbing a hand over his cropped hair. "I assume you already know, but I was brought up with some manners. Dominic Granger. I won't say it's a pleasure to meet you."
She was apparently not the type to force her way out of such a situation. The very thought of using force or harming another individual was abhorrent to her. She was no murderer, though she'd do what she had to do to protect those she held dear. "Sentimental value?" she echoed. "People keep photos for sentimental value. Coveting jewels is merely a matter of greed." One brow twitched in curiosity. He was even better looking close up, she thought, but it was a fleeting though, one better left alone. "I know who you are, and I also know you'd hardly miss it."
"It was a gift," he told her, raising a brow. "From a man who saved my life at the risk of his own, because he wanted me to survive and see the birth of my son." As he spoke, his eyes darkened with long held pain, tempered with the fresher grief that would always touch those memories. "It's worth far more than its weight, and you would do well not to talk about things you can't possibly understand." His jaw clenched for a moment before he continued. "That jewel" Saved my wife's life after our son died."