Ezra Nighthawk is the son of a famous thief, so well known, in fact, that it’s made Ezra a minor celebrity himself. When he’s out on the town for a birthday celebration, a misunderstanding with the prince’s entourage leads to the prince accidentally being killed. Ezra finds himself in prison, hungover and battered.
Ezra’s mother, knowing he’ll be executed for the crime, hires a low-level thief to spring him from the dungeon. Soon Ezra is on the run for his life with the unexpectedly attractive young thief. Will he survive the ordeal?
Someone was in the cell with him now, his foggy brain eventually realized. He opened his good eye slightly, and could make out a figure standing just inside the doorway, hands on hips, looking down at him.
“Well, I’ll be damned. It is Ezra Nighthawk.” The low voice sounded amused.
Ezra, for his part, was not surprised, and let out a resigned sigh. Unfortunately, Ezra’s mother was famous in town, having been one of the leaders of the most successful thieves’ guilds around for many years, until she retired. Tess Nighthawk. And being her son brought some measure of (in his case, unwanted) fame as well.
He had never had any of the talent of his famous mother, a skilled cat burglar with near-acrobat abilities that made her rich, famous, and rise through the ranks rapidly ... helped in no small part by her immense charm. Ezra did not share that part either. He was clumsy, shy, and utterly lacking in self-confidence.
The stranger crouched down in front of him, and to his immense surprise, a flame soon appeared in the man’s upraised, cupped hand between them. A magic user!
He stared at the stranger now, some of the fog lifted by the shock. The flame illuminated a face he had never seen before, but one he was sure he would never forget. The man was gorgeous. Roughly Ezra’s age, he guessed, with wild, spikey dark hair, and hoop earrings in both ears that shone in the light. He was grinning, showing off perfectly straight white teeth. And enough of his form was visible to make it clear that he had a lean, athletic build, exactly the type Ezra was secretly attracted to. He was ... perfect, Ezra thought, and he suddenly forgot to breathe.
“You don’t know me, of course, but I know you,” the stranger began, still grinning. “I’m a thief in your mom’s guild. Low level, for now.”
He stood up, still looking at Ezra appraisingly. “You’re cute, too, up close. Even with the black eye. Too bad we don’t have time to have some fun in here.” He said the last with a mischievous twist to his smile.
“Wait, what did you just say?” Now that sobered Ezra up even further!
“Hush,” the man admonished in a distracted tone, having already moved on. He was over looking at the lock on the door, illuminating it with his small flame. “I’ll have us out of here in no time.”
“Wait, no! Hold on.” Ezra protested. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I can explain myself out of this. I don’t need to get in deeper trouble by trying to escape with you.”
The smile was gone now, and the man gave him a look tinged with pity. “You’re a dead man, prince killer. They won’t give you time to explain. You’ll be lucky if they don’t execute you at sunrise.”
Ezra’s blood ran cold, and he found he could not speak to protest further.
