We reached Southside and paused outside of an out-of-place building for this district. A colorful sign marked it as the New Valentine Recording Group, Eve muted the music from her bike. That left us with only the purr of her engine. And the sound of her fingers tapping on the handlebar to a no longer present rhythm.

She kicked the stand out and got off the bike. I followed and stretched out, trailing her eyes to the Recording Studio.

“So, ya gonna tell me why we’re out here?” I asked, not pleased to be wandering around covered in mud. My hair was a complete mess—worse, I got dirt on Eve’s jacket, though she didn’t notice yet. She slid closer to the building, her eyes scanning the sides of the street. Was she looking for people?

There was hardly anyone stumbling about, given where we were. Aside from a party raging out a couple of blocks away. We weren’t in Downtown. Eve nodded to herself.

“Owner’s a major dick head, and he owes me.”

I blinked. I didn’t get it. When she mentioned an errand—so what if the guy owed her? It didn’t look like the place would open any time soon. Eve slipped into the crook of the entryway, hidden from the street. She pulled out a little kit—pulling free a metal pick and tension rod. A lockpicking set? “You’re—you’re breaking in?”

She stopped and glared. She slowly raised a finger to her lip. “Stay quiet. Dumbass. How about you don’t bother using that pretty head of yours to try to think. Watch. Tell me if anyone’s coming close. That’s all I need. Got it?”

Pretty head? I flushed a bit, not expecting that. I didn’t agree to be complicit in a break-in, but Eve would drag me into it anyway. Still, I owed her. I looked across the street. Nobody.

Eve jammed the tension wrench into the lock and tested the pins. Her movements flowed with fluid precision. I didn’t expect her to be this dexterous; lock picking was a skill that took patience, and I had a hard time squaring that with her brash and annoying attitude. There weren’t many pickers in the Brass Kings—most people bashed shit open. When you threw in Soul Seeds, it only enhanced people’s sense of power.

Within thirty seconds, the door pulled open, and Eve wore a grin. She gave a quick wave before slipping inside.

Did she want me to go in with her? Or keep watching? There wasn’t anyone approaching, no lingering eyes to see her trespass. Hell, if I wanted, I probably could’ve walked back home from here. Wash my hands from this mess and say I didn’t know. Other than tonight, Eve had been nothing but rude since I met her.

But Bruno, Suzaki, and Kayson—all of them cared about her. And I owed her. Fuck.

This was dumb. Why were we here, and what was Eve after? We had no clue about any kind of security system that might be running through this place. Places like this usually employed private security from Schäfer.

But I wasn’t about to leave her high and dry and twiddle my thumbs outside. I followed her into the building, pulling out my phone and using a dim flashlight to see in the dark. The place had a fine carpet, well-made desks, fancy glass doors that led to recording rooms decked out with audio equipment the sorts I’d only ever seen in behind the scenes for movies. Eve skipped through the room, throwing stealth out the window as she beelined for the receptionist’s desk.

Then the crazy bitch yanked the keyboard free from the computer and chucked it against the wall. I winced.

“Are you out of your mind!?” I asked.

She laughed and skipped further into the studio, leaving me to keep following her like a lost puppy. There were doors labeled for different recording equipment. All of it in a systematic layout. Microphones, wires, an organized but overwhelming number of stands and chairs. It was like walking into an alien world. None of it meant a thing to me or made any sense.

Eve knew precisely where she was going and headed directly to a glass door with a lock. She broke out her lockpick and hummed a tune. Similar to the euro-rock we listened to on the way here, but with a certain edge that I couldn’t place.

Since she seemed to have a handle on her job, I made my way to a lounge where I spotted a mini-fridge. Considering Eve already broke a keyboard at random, I didn’t figure she’d take issue with me doing whatever I wanted. I opened up the small stainless steel door. Inside were a plethora of overcrowded water bottles and beer cans.

“Toss me one?” Eve glanced at me from over her shoulder and shot me a wink. “Lock’s a bit more trouble. Couple of serrated pins, and the tolerance is a bitch.”

Yeah, whatever that meant, lady. “Just be quick, okay?”

I stole two beers, one for her and one for myself. Monkey King Lager. Her entire demeanor and nonchalance went a long way to bringing the tension down. When we broke in, I felt my nerves run, but we’d committed at this point. If I looked at it from a certain angle, it was one big bet that we’d get in and out with whatever she wanted before anyone noticed. The beautiful thrill ran in the air and eased my nerves with that framing.

She worked the lock, barely paying me mind as I placed the beer in her hand. Taking just a second to bring the closed can to her lips—pull the tab with her teeth—and then chug the whole thing.

“Damn, didn’t know you’d shotgun it.”

“Well, we gotta be quick about this, right?” she smirked. “Go on, then.”

I wasn’t about to make myself look like a wimp if she downed it like that. I cracked it and took the Lager down in a single gulp, hearing the lock click open as the beer went down my throat. It had an odd acorn taste. Eve darted into the room and ran to the closed recording studio inside. Only to take a black guitar leaned on a chair.

I followed her in and leaned in to look at a sounding board. I idly turned the knob. It was fascinating to consider all the effort that went into music. “Think this is a fair price for that asshole to pay?”

“What’d he even do?”

“Pulled a scam on me. I booked a couple of hours to record. He took my money, but when I showed up, said he’d already booked the room. Lied and said we never had a deal, that he never took a penny.” She shrugged. “So, I guess if I never paid him and he stole from me, then he never had this guitar.”

“Why is your go-to always stealing?”

“I don’t let people jerk me around. And having more things is always better.” She gave the slick black acoustic guitar in her hands a loving strum. Tender in a way I’d never seen her with another person. “Besides, this one caught my eye.”

“Kayson know?” Wasn’t that what the Brass Kings was for? If someone screwed you, there were people to back you. In concept, even if it didn’t work that way back in Tristan’s squad.

“Told me it wasn’t worth it. He said that sometimes we need to consider potential trouble before diving in, though, if you ask me, he’s just indecisive. Too busy thinking three steps ahead instead of what’s right there. We’re not machines; we’re people. It feels good to show a shitty person they’re not untouchable.”

She stopped toying with the guitar, finding its leather case nearby and carefully putting it away. She paused and then ran over and stole a handful of picks too. I snorted. Damn, she was petty.

I stopped toying with the soundboard knob as I heard a door open behind us. Eve failed to notice—too busy stuffing things into the guitar case.

“Eve?”

“Hmm, what’d piss you off more? Randomly snipped the wires or wrecked equipment? I mean, destroying the electronics is obviously more—“

“Eve, I heard something.”

Her head snapped towards me, torn from musing about revenge. I quietly joined her in the actual recording studio. Eve clasped the guitar case shut and then threw it over her shoulder. Her finger snapped, and all the noise around us vanished.

For a girl who had a casual attitude towards break-ins, it was funny how she froze at the first sign of trouble; her eyes went wide like a deer in headlights. There wasn’t time to sit around. I grabbed her wrist and ducked down while dragging her out of the recording studio. Thanks to her Soul Ability, our steps were dead quiet. I held up a hand and peeked around the corner to the main lobby.

A man in a black uniform scanned the lobby with his flashlight. He leaned over by the wall and scanned the broken keyboard keys littering the ground. He had a graying beard and a no-nonsense stance that confirmed he was a corporate goon. The exact kind of trouble we didn’t want to get involved with. If we didn’t find a way out, we were screwed.

I pulled Eve’s reluctant hand—dragging her behind the couch near the mini-fridge while the man investigated the vandalism. Given the couch was in the middle of the room, it gave us more options. We wouldn’t get cornered. It also put us out of his sight, for now.

“Yeah, someone broke in.” His radio cracked, and steps came closer. “Southside. Always a shithole. Boss said the client refuses to move.”

There was more radio chatter. The man kicked one of our discarded beer cans and sighed.

“Looks like they stole some beer too. I’ll do a damage assessment.” He headed towards the minifridge. No way he wasn’t. And it was, unfortunately, directly to our right. In a few moments, he would spot us. I yanked a cushion free from the couch, Eve tried to grab my wrist to stop me, but I shook my head.

Then I lifted three fingers, counting down. I saw a flicker of understanding—all I needed.

As my last finger went down, I sprang up—pushing Eve towards the side so she could scramble away. Instantly, the light of that flashlight blinded me. I tapped my hand, letting Fickle Fate ride. A flashed blue.

The guy got out a loud “Stop!” before I chucked the cushion right at him, leaping over the top of the couch as Eve ran for it to the left.

He lurched forward to catch me; my cushion missed its mark—instead, it flew low, hitting the ground right in front of his leading foot. He landed on the grey cushion, and it slid out from under him, throwing him off balance. He fell over.

I ran by as he struggled to his feet, avoiding one of his reaching hands trying to catch my ankle. I felt alive. Even as he yelled out threats behind my back, there wasn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.

Eve left through the door first, and I was out of it two seconds later. I slammed it shut. That security guard recovered was hot on our heels, but we were quicker. Eve shoved the guitar case into my arms. I struggled to sling it over my shoulder while hopping on the bike behind her.

The door to the recording studio slammed open right as her engine kicked on.

“Hold tight, you idiot,” Eve warned.

“Stop right there! You Immortals-damned kids!” The guy screamed from the top of his lungs. Then he ran down the stairs.

Eve flipped him a middle finger. I laced my arms around her waist as she revved the throttle, then we took off down the street in a streak of yellow. Not a chance that dick-wad could catch up. Eve laughed like a madwoman, and I joined her, feeling that same intoxicating rush.

The city’s lights passed as she wove past cars, wind running through her curly black hair. Until she pulled to a stop at my house, I gave her the guitar, stretching. My heart was still thudding away.

“Hey, dumbass, you said your Soul Ability was a coin flip, right?” she asked, leaning on her handlebars.

“Yeah, I did.”

“So you tossed that cushion at him, knowing it’d either get you caught or get you out of there?”

Well, maybe not in those terms. When she broke it down like that… “I was thinking on my feet.”

“Yeah, alright. Sure. Idiot.” She let out another cackle of laughter before speeding off on her bike, leaving me alone at the curb of my house. Guess I could safely add robbery to my list of successful crimes. I couldn’t stop thinking about Eve and how fun it all was. I didn’t have a particular inclination to steal, but I understood her better.

I calmly lit a smoke, sitting on the broken-down steps in front of my house, deciding that I should enjoy the late-night air. Afterward, I could head in, shower, and finally hit the hay.