Sierra

 

What drew me into the business of stealing jewelry was not a love of diamonds and pearls. It was not the lure of shiny trinkets. I never wore much jewelry growing up, and I cared very little for it even as I started to reach adulthood.

 

What drew me in initially was the opportunity to work people. I was attracted to the challenge of winning someone’s trust to the point that they didn’t even realize what I had done until it was too late. I used my looks to disarm powerful men and women alike, to get them to let their guards down so that I could walk out of their lives with whatever I wanted.

 

From an early age, I knew I was going to be taller than average. As a kid, everyone always thought I was at least year older than I really was because I was always a little taller than my peers. Since I was ahead physically, teachers and other adults always expected me to be ahead intellectually as well. I learned very early that my looks put me at an advantage over other people around me.

 

As a teen, my body quickly developed the kind of feminine curves men always looked for in sports cars. My body had all the smooth, catlike curves of a wild predator. And my fiery red hair made everyone weak in the knees. I learned that my body could get me anything I wanted from men, and even many women who either adored or desired me. While some girls were looking for love in the backseat, I realized I didn’t have to go all the way to get everything I wanted.

 

People seemed to be much more giving when they wanted something unattainable, so I became as unattainable as the valuable art and jewelry I would later be lifting from the homes of the wealthiest elite members of high society.

 

Luckily, there were people who wanted to own the valuable possessions of the rich as much as I wanted to simply lift them, and they were willing to pay a pretty penny for their prizes. The money kept me in the business of robbing rich fools blind. The more challenging the mark, the larger the payoff, and the more fulfilling my work became.

 

I was living the dream. I never had to settle down. I never had to deal with the clingy relationships people invented to trap themselves in place and rob themselves of happiness for another person. I was free, but my services weren’t.

 

Then I met Coyote, and I realized that I had been selling myself short to a bunch of hacks and wannabe collectors who were just turning my prizes around and making real money on the black market. Coyote promised to connect me with real buyers who wanted to pay what my stolen treasures were really worth. The dream I had been living before paled in comparison to the life I discovered when I started working for someone.

 

Unlike my marks, I didn’t keep many trinkets or other unnecessary possessions that didn’t actually have to do with my job. I had a few pieces of replaceable fine jewelry in case I needed to dress up for a job, a few nice evening gowns and shoes. I had all of my gear, from black tennis shoes with no treads on the soles to my black gloves, because there were times when a job required me just to go in and grab what I was after instead of romancing the owner.

 

Possessions seemed to trap so much energy and emotion. They weighed their owners down, and that was what made my job both possible and, arguably, necessary. I didn’t want to get caught in the same trap as the people from whom I had stolen countless articles of sentimentality.

 

There was another layer, though, that Coyote taught me about stealing valuable possessions. Coyote specialized in rare, ultra-valuable jewels, and part of what made some of those pieces so valuable was the story behind them. Who had worn it? Where had they worn it? What did that diamond ring or that pearl necklace see?

 

It was all sentimental mumbo jumbo of course, but I did find it intriguing that many of the most valuable pieces Coyote sought out were ones that had spent their entire lifetimes being hunted down and stolen from one owner or another. Those stories fascinated me because they meant that my hands were just the latest to aid the pieces on their journey through history.

 

So when my boss called me into her office late one night for an “urgent meeting,” I knew there must have been something pretty big on her radar. I was on my way back from a job I had just finished for her, and everything seemed to be alright.

 

I had allowed my mark’s security to search my body and my belongings. The jewels I had lifted were already on their way back to Coyote by the time anyone had noticed they were gone, so they didn’t find anything on me. And, of course, the violation of our trust gave me an easy excuse to throw a tantrum, pack my things, and storm out of the mansion before the authorities showed up and discovered that the name I had given my mark and his men was just an alias. Ariana DeVille, as far as I knew, wasn’t even a real person.

 

An unmarked black sedan showed up to get me from my luxurious rooftop downtown hotel suite. The windows were completely blacked out and there were no tags on the car. By simply looking official, we were usually able to escape scrutiny on the local level. The Shadow Collective, the ambiguous name of the organization I worked for, operated on a scale much larger than I wanted to know. I was, quite literally, just along for the ride.

 

The Shadow Collective’s hideout was more of a compound, and it wasn’t terribly hidden. It was on the outskirts of town, on enough land to build its own city, but it was simply housed in a large mansion that remained well-lit all night with guards posted at the main gate and at several points along the wall surrounding the property. They didn’t look armed at first. They presented themselves as well dressed house staff, but underneath the tuxedos they were required to wear, they were well-armed and trained.

 

Even being called in at random late at night, I felt safe and secure once we passed through the gate onto the grounds of The Shadow Collective’s compound.

 

I was escorted into the house by a man with a shaved head and shades, despite it being almost midnight. His arms and shoulders were almost too much for his tux, and the white gloves he wore wouldn’t have left any prints if I were to be terminated. He held the door for me to enter the house and walked just in front of me on my right side.

 

Coyote’s office overlooked the patio and pool behind her mansion. She had marble flooring and exquisite antique lamps lighting the room. She had a dark wooden desk with a large red leather chair behind it, and two large antique arm chairs in front.

 

“Please, have a seat, Sierra,” she said in her cool, calculated voice.

 

She turned around in her chair. She wore her platinum blonde hair in a short bob cut right at her chin and a black skirt suit with a loose blouse under her jacket.

 

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, and so late at night,” she continued.

 

“What’s this about?” I asked, not wanting to waste any time when I wasn’t sure what she was putting on the table for me.

 

“I have another job for you,” she said with a cunning smile on her face.

 

“Great, but couldn’t it wait until a decent hour?” I teased. I was one of the only people on her payroll who seemed to be able to get away with it, which was good. Neither one of us would have done well otherwise.

 

“You know I wouldn’t have called you in here this late if it could.” Her tan eyes glittered while she talked, and I could tell that she was on to something big here.

 

She picked up a small remote control and pressed a button, opening a small section in the wall to my left. The bookshelves slid back to reveal a flat screen TV with a picture of a yellowish diamond on it.

 

“This is the Sun Stone,” she said. “Have you heard of it before?”

 

“I thought it was a myth,” I told her. I stared at the pictures she showed me as if they had all been doctored and edited. I knew she was about to tell me she had located its current owner, but I couldn’t believe it.

 

If the Sun Stone were real, it was supposed to outweigh the largest known cut and faceted diamond by several hundred carats. It was also about two hundred years older than the largest known golden diamond. The original Sun Stone was also more gold than amber or brown in color than other similar diamonds. It had been said that the Sun Stone had remained unknown for so long because it had been hidden in the hands of royalty, so there was no real record of its existence other than folk tales.

 

“It’s no myth,” Coyote said. “It’s right here in the city.”

 

I snapped my head around to stare at her. I wanted to ask if she already had it and was just calling me in to show it to me, but that wouldn’t have been the case.

 

“We don’t have any royalty in the city,” I argued.

 

“No, we don’t. As you probably know, the Sun Stone has shifted from one royal family to another over the last three or four hundred years. Its travels have both caused and prevented wars. However, it was lost about twenty years ago when a very skilled Arabian thief stole it from a member of the Saudi royal family. His story ended violently, yet discreetly, but the diamond was gone by the time his crime had caught up to him,” Coyote explained.

 

“So, how did it end up here?” I asked.

 

“I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know how this elite jewel has found its way into lower and lower hands, but the word is that Gunner Kaye has managed to secure it for himself and he has it here in the city somewhere,” she answered.

 

“No way!” I was incredulous. The idea that someone like Gunner Kaye, head of the motorcycle club The Immortal Devils and self-made multi-billionaire, would have the Sun Stone in his possession was just beyond all comprehension.

 

“Yes,” she added with a sigh, “I’m afraid it has made its way that far down over the years, but you know what I’m going to ask you to do.”

 

“Oh, I know exactly what you want me to do,” I told her eagerly. “You want me to get it from him and bring it to you. I know the drill, Coyote.” I couldn’t hide my excitement at the thought of infiltrating the notorious Immortal Devils and getting in with Gunner Kaye to get my hands on that diamond.

 

Now, that particular jewel had a history I definitely wanted to be part of. People killed to get into that storyline. It was like being given the opportunity to meet a Greek god or goddess, something that wasn’t supposed to exist in the real world.

 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she cautioned me, snapping me back into reality. “This is a great opportunity for you, for us, but it’s also very dangerous, Sierra. You are to remain in almost constant contact with me to let me know you are okay. I’m going to expect regular progress updates. It’s not that I don’t trust you on this one, but I don’t trust The Immortal Devils. If things start to look like they might turn ugly, you get your ass out and call me right then.”

 

“Definitely,” I responded soberly. “When do I start?” I asked her.

 

“As soon as you make contact with Gunner and his men. They can be found at Eden, and my sources tell me they will probably be there tomorrow night.” She passed a membership card across the desk. “This will ensure your entry.”

 

“Thank you,” I told her, grabbing the card and turning it over in my hand. Eden was a highly exclusive nightclub open only to members and their guests. I smiled as I slid the card into my clutch purse.

 

“Be safe, Sierra, and use an alias. I don’t want them being able to track you down when it’s all over.” Her cold voice melted into a caring, almost motherly tone.

 

“Don’t worry about me,” I assured my boss. “But after this, I’m going on vacation. Somewhere sunny, with beaches and tourists instead of jewelry thieves and billionaires,” I teased.

 

“Definitely,” Coyote agreed.

 

I got up to leave as she turned around in her chair to look out the window. My escort was waiting for me outside her room, and he walked me back to the unmarked car. I was whisked away, back to my suite in the heart of the city to begin planning for the biggest job of my career. Possibly the biggest of my life.