Read Thief: A Fantasy Hardboiled (Ratcatchers Book 2) for Free Online

braincase.”
    Cole nodded, a little relieved.
    “I can tell,” the thief continued smoothly, “because if you weren’t rattled you’d remember I could just steal the fucking things from you and there isn’t anything you could do about it.”
    Cole gave up. Extended his hand, shaking. Aimsley padded forward and examined the black orbs.
    “Don’t drop them,” Cole warned, and placed the marbles in Aimsley’s palm.
    Aimsley shot him a look and went back to examining the marbles. Cole relaxed, relieved to get rid of them. Relieved to have something the polder wanted.
    Pinwhistle looked from the marbles to Cole. Shrugged.
    “They make deathless,” Cole said.
    The polder’s expression didn’t change.
    “What?”
    “I swear by the black brothers, they make deathless,” the words poured from Cole’s mouth. It was like he was testifying. A witness trying to convince a watchman of what he saw. “I didn’t know what they did, I just…he gave them to me and said to throw them at the ground. I thought they were blackout balls.”
    Suddenly the polder’s mind was racing. Cole was a pro, experienced. Deathless would explain his current state.  He stared at the black orbs, then looked up into the night sky, thinking.
    Cole thought maybe he could run for it. But decided the danger was passed. Pinwhistle wouldn’t kill him, he realized. There was nothing Cole had that the little thief couldn’t take without violence.
    “What’s the count up to, Cole?” the polder asked idly.
    “You know as much as I do, fixer." Cole was desperate to impress. "I just made Blue this year, I mean sometimes I feel like I know what’s going on, but the count doesn’t tell me shit. I never talk to him. I see the Fixer sometimes. Otherwise...I serve at the pleasure of the Red,” he said with some regret.
    “And the Red Scarves, the ones who gave you these…did they seem excited?”
    “They were pissing themselves, they were so fucking happy.”
    Aimsley nodded. “How do they work?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Aimsley cocked his head at the man.
    “I swear by Saint Pallad I don’t know. I threw one down, and this smoke came out and went into Tom. Tom was dead. But then…then he wasn’t. Then he was something else. A ghoul.”
    “There are no more Deathless," Aimsley said, almost reflexively, looking at the tiny glass ball in his hand.
    “Well it looked like a ghoul! What the fuck do I know!?”
    “Does it need a body?”
    “I…I don’t know!”
    “Has to work even without one," the polder reasoned. "Otherwise what would have happened if you’d used it before anyone died?”
    “What?”
    Cole was smart, but in his highly strung, badly rattled state, he wasn’t able to follow Aimsley’s logic. 
    “Ok,” the polder said. “Alright, I believe you. Thanks,” he said, holding up the glass marbles as though toasting the other thief. He put them in a small pouch on his hip.
    Cole just stood there, nail hanging from his fingers, like someone waiting to be dismissed.
    “I take back what I said about the count. Don’t tell him what happened. Don’t tell him anything. He’ll feel stupid he sent you and kill you just to make himself feel better.”
    Cole nodded. He was sweating in the cold air.
    “Better report back to the Fixer. He’ll know what to do.”
    “Yeah,” Cole said, nodding. “Yeah, Garth will know.”
    “Good boy,” the polder said. “You got a lot of promise, Cole. Things don’t work out with the Guild, you come talk to Brackett at the Hearth. We’ll find something for you to do. Something that don’t involve deathless.”
    “Really?” Cole asked, he looked disoriented again. This whole evening left him shaking and unsure what was what. “Why would you…why would you do that?”
    The polder frowned. “Dunno,” he said. “Just feeling generous, I guess.”
    Cole nodded, though he wasn’t really listening.
    “Now fuck off,” the polder said. “Your men are all dead—no fault of yours—and