Yalana smiled as the small flame bloomed at the end of her finger. She touched the heat to the lock and watched it melt. Cake, she thought bringing up her heat shield. The heat was never enough to burn, but high enough to keep her from leaving traces of herself.
It had been awhile since she had hit an actually shop, but tonight she wanted the challenge. The man that closed the store that night had forgotten to turn off the cooler and steam rose from Yalana's skin as the cool air met the blanket of fire. She put out the torch-like flame on her fingertip as she examined the display cases looking for the ring she had seen that afternoon. When she found it, she laughed, they had been foolish enough to not put it in the safe.
Once again, the small super-heated flame appeared. Speed it up Fire Sprite, she thought as she 'cut' out a hole just large enough to get her hand through, else you'll sleep for a week when you're done. She draped her 'blanket' on one finger and hooked the ring, after she swept her arm over the spot to erase any proof and stepped back. She glanced one last time at the hole, wishing she could figure out how to re-melt the glass so there was truly no trace, besides the lock, of how she had done it. She sagged once outside as she let the flame recede back into her. She strolled calmly down the street— three blocks down she let herself collapse against the wall of an apartment complex. She sat there with her eyes closed, waiting for the fatigue that came with using the fire like that, to subside. Finally, she pulled the ring out of her pocket and smiled. The heat of the flames around it hadn't harmed the ring, but had made it look slightly aged, just enough so that when she took it to the jewelry shop across town, they would think she'd had it for some time.
"No' ba'," a voice said from above her. She looked up in time to see someone flip off the second story fire escape and land on their feet in front of her. Yalana glared at the boy who smiled so openly and flirtatiously at her. Her hard blue eyes went over him slowly, sizing him up. She had to admit he wasn't hard on the eyes. He looked to be about her age and his auburn hair was more red than brown, his red on black eyes sparkled with some mischief and his flirty white smile invited her to share it. His skintight black suit was similar to her own, but was long sleeved where hers was a halter-top. He also wore an odd sort of pink armor. Both helped to display his well-muscled arms and well-shaped body.
"Yo' li'e wha' yo' see? He asked his smile widening.
Yalana smiled harshly. "Alls I see 's a wanna be stree' ki' da' t'inks 'e's betta den 'e i' jus' b'cause 'e's go' a few looks t' 'im."
The boy put his hand over his heart. "Da' hi' Remy righ' 'ere, chére. An' all 'e di' wa' try an' complimen' yo'."
"If I'd hi' yo' dere, yo'd be dea'." A shiver went down her spine as he stepped closer. Why was she reacting like this to him?
He smiled again. "Yo' act tough an' col', mais we bot' know yo' li'e Remy."
"I don't even know you!" she objected, slipping out of the Cajun accent she'd worked to master so she fit in with locals in New Orleans.
"Yo' don' 'ave t' know someone to' li'e dem," he told her now standing less than a foot away.
Yalana shrugged. "So?" She didn't bother to pick the accent up again. "That doesn't mean I like you."
"Mais yo' do."
"Says wh…" Yalana's objection was cut off when, without warning, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She stiffened as his arms went around her waist, he mind flashing back to the drunken man in her mother's brothel, but this boys, Remy's, lips were soft and inviting, not crushing and demanding. He moved his lips gently over hers and she relaxed, until his tongue touched her bottom lip. She jerked back and he chuckled.
"Yo' reaction tol' Remy all 'e nee's t' know."
"You disgustingly cocky little bastard!" she ground out between clenched teeth, furious at herself for reacting to hi kiss. She'd scorched men for less, so why did she let him do that!
"Remy migh' be jus' da'…mais yo' still li'e 'im."
"I do n…" He kissed her again before jumping to grab the escape later and disappearing out of sight.
Yalana sat up in bed, her breathing and heartbeat as erratic as they had been that night, two years ago, when she'd met Remy after her jewelry store heist. It had taken her nearly ten minutes to figure out he'd stolen the ring from her during one of those mind shaking kisses. In it's place she'd found a note telling her that if she found him, she might get it back. She hadn't bothered. She wanted to stay as far from his as possible. A glance at the click made her groan. "Why can't I ever have dreams that wake me up at noon…not two in the morning?"