Page 2 of Grin and Bear It

“You have got to be kidding me,” she sputtered, batting away a particularly aggressive bird that seemed determined to exact revenge by flying directly at her face. “Move!”

The pigeon swooped past her ear with an indignant squawk before joining its flock in their scattered flight patterns above the rooftop. Feathers clung to Thora’s hair, shoulders, and the front of her leather jacket—transforming her from sleek predator to what looked like the unfortunate victim of a pillow factory explosion.

A distant clang of metal drew her attention back to the mission. The fire escape. Her quarry was making his escape while she stood here playing unwilling host to a feather convention.

“Perfect,” she growled, plucking a feather from her hair and flicking it aside with exaggerated precision. “Absolutely perfect.”

The sound of footsteps on metal stairs galvanized her into action. She rushed to the roof’s edge and spotted her target already halfway down the fire escape, moving with the quick, fluid motions typical of his kind.

No time for the stairs. She grabbed the railing and vaulted over, dropping to the landing below with a resounding clang that reverberated through the entire metal structure. The leopard shifter glanced up, alarm flashing across his features when heregistered the feather-covered bounty hunter standing between him and freedom.

“Maxwell Rourke,” Thora called down, casually removing another feather from her sleeve. “Imagine running into you here.”

His features contorted, momentarily shifting toward his leopard form—pupils elongating, canines extending—before he forced himself back to human appearance. “How do you know my name?”

THREE

Thora descended the stairs with deliberate steps, each one an echo of approaching consequences. “I make it my business to know the names of thieves who steal from influential families.”

“Stay back,” Rourke warned, backing down another flight. “I’m not going in without a fight.”

“They never do,” Thora sighed as if this was all terribly inconvenient.

Rourke hesitated, looking down toward the alley below, then back at Thora. She recognized the calculations happening behind his eyes—weighing options, judging distances, assessing risks.

When he suddenly reversed direction, lunging up the stairs toward her rather than continuing downward, she had already anticipated the move.

She sidestepped his rush with practiced ease, catching his arm mid-motion and using his own momentum against him. His body slammed against the brick wall with enough force to expel the air from his lungs. Before he could recover, the specialized cuffs clicked around his wrist.

Blue energy crackled along the metal, and Rourke gasped as the magic suppressed his shifter abilities. The faint leopard-like markings that had begun to emerge along his temples faded away.

“How did you get these?” he wheezed, staring at the cuffs in disbelief. “They are Hendrick restraints—they’re military grade.”

“Good eye.” Thora secured his other wrist before patting him down with methodical efficiency. “Cost me three months’ worth of bounties. Worth every penny.”

Her fingers connected with something cool and metallic in his inner jacket pocket. She extracted a silver pendant, its surface etched with intricate runes that seemed to shimmer in the fading light.

“The Silverbane Pendant, I presume?” She held it up, examining the craftsmanship. “Doesn’t seem worth the trouble, if you ask me.”

“You don’t understand its value,” Rourke said, a hint of desperation coloring his voice. “The power it contains?—”

“Save it for someone who cares.” Thora tucked the pendant into a secure pouch on her belt. “All I need to know is that the Silverbane family is paying twenty thousand for its return. And another five for bringing you in.”

She guided him down the remaining stairs, maintaining a firm grip on his arm. As they reached the alley below, a pigeon feather floated down from her hair, landing on Rourke’s shoulder like an absurd final insult.

He eyed it, then flicked his gaze up to take in the full extent of her feathered state. A smirk formed on his lips. “Rough day at the office?”

Thora plucked the feather from his shoulder with excessive care. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“The great Thora Halliwell,” he mused, shaking his head. “They said you were good, but I didn’t believe the stories.”

“Stories tend to be exaggerated.” She brushed another feather from her jacket.

“Not these. They say you tracked a phoenix shifter through three states without sleeping. That you caught the Blackwater twins when everyone else said it couldn’t be done.”

Thora studied him for a moment. “You seem to have put a lot of thought into who might come after you.”

“It’s what I’d do in your position.” A sly grin spread across his face. “Let me go, and I can get you double what they’re paying for this bounty.”

---