Lucky - by Erin Latimer

What's the Plan?

We spent most of the next day going over Kiran’s plan. He emphasized over and over that all I was to do was gamble, and be obvious with my fairy dust.

            “But not right away,” Kiran added, for what was probably the ninth time.

            “I get it.” I flopped down on his bed and stretched out, enjoying the feeling of wearing pants again. Kiran had loaned me a pair of trousers he claimed was too small for him, and a silk shirt that felt very good on my bare skin.

            The shirt rode up as I stretched, exposing my stomach to the chilly air of the room, and I sat up a little to pull it down, catching Kiran staring as I did so. He looked away quickly, clearly his throat. “Ah…um, good. I just don’t want Rook discovering what you are right away. I need time to set up a few things.”

            Feeling a little pleased that I’d caught him looking at me, I tucked my hands behind my head, resting on his pillow. “What things are you setting up?”

            “Tools of my trade,” Kiran said shortly. “Things I need to pull this off.”

            Now I sat up, narrowing my eyes at him. “Okay, you’re obviously stealing something. We've established that we both have trust issues, but can’t you tell me what you’re stealing at least? I’m guessing this Rook guy has something over you. He has something you have to get back so that you’re free of him?”

            Kiran nodded slowly. “I…I can’t tell you too much. It’s…highly personal. But yes, this is a robbery. And yes, he has something of mine that I wish to get back, in order to be free of him forever.”

            I racked my brain, trying to think of what you could steal from a man to blackmail him with. Maybe pictures of him with a woman? But Kiran had no wife. So what did it matter? It would be different if Kiran were a woman and indecent photos came to light. Women were disgraced if something like that happened, but men…people expected men to do things like that. Even men of high society.

            So not photographs then. Perhaps documents of an incriminating nature?

            “Does he have documents of Lightfoot’s true identity?” I said, shooting him a teasing grin. I was only half joking, hoping that he would tell me.

            Kiran chuckled. “Don’t waste your time guessing, love. I guarantee that you’ll never guess what it is in a million years.”

            I sighed, trying to hold back my irritation. I guess we were taking it slow. At least he didn't think I was casting spells on him anymore, like some kind of wicked siren. The idea made me smile a little, and I stretched the length of my body out on the bed again, peeking at Kiran out of the corner of my eyes.

            He kept his gaze firmly fixed on the note book he was writing in.

            I sighed. “Okay so I gamble, spread my fairy dust around until he arrives to talk to me…” I faltered. “And then you create a distraction and I slip out. But you’ll have…whatever it is you’re going to steal by then?”

            “Yes.” Kiran snapped the note book shut and placed it back on the shelf, hiding it between two of the books. “I just need you to keep him interested for at least ten minutes from the time he notices you.” His gaze darted down the length of my body, and he gave me a dry smile. “That should be easy enough for you.”

            I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him like a five year old, curling my knees up to my chest and hugging them. “Fine. We’ll have stimulating conversation, him and I. I’m sure he’s delightful.”