It had been the first time that the grand thief had nearly been caught, and her body made no mistake in reminding her of that fact.

The small woman's breath came in short, pained gasps as she pressed her back to the icy brick. Spotlights shone from behind her on the city skyline, announcing the grand opening of an exhibit, filled with treasures from kings and emperors alike. It was supposed to be as simple to steal from that as it was as simple to buy from a market. Except for the paying part, of course.

But there had been some flaw in her scheme, and now, Riné Alistair was pressing a cloth to her knee, dabbing the blood that trickled down her leg in small streams. Whenever she pulled the cloth away, the chilly night air stung at the open wound, each throb screaming a mantra of failure into her nerves.

Riné tossed a glance back over her shoulder, watching for anyone following her and listening for the same. The city was filled with sounds of people, of life, all blending into each other and creating one smooth hum. Gratefully, however, none of those sounds were of footsteps dashing up the stone path to the combined lighthouse and clock tower upon which she was perched.

"Shit," she breathed, tying off her knee and rolling down her pants leg again. She burrowed further into her coat. The ocean air was like a million needles piercing at anything that she left exposed to its wrath.  Riné allowed herself to close her eyes, just for a moment.

"I guess you are mortal after all, Bandit King!"

She opened her eyes back up and looked to see the young police man, gun drawn and pointed at her. How he'd sneaked up on her was evident—his shoes were tied together and slung over his shoulder. His face was painted with a million different emotions, none of which she cared to identify, but one of which was most evident. Excitement.

"You had to stop for a rest, and now there's nowhere for you to run. So give it up! You're under arrest!" He practically sang, his eyes wide at the sight of her looking so weak. But he tensed again when his eyes caught hers, still piercing blue even in the dark of a seaside night.

A smirk came across Riné's lips, and she laughed.

"Am I?"

Before the man could blink, the thief was upon him, pinning him against the brick and grabbing him into a kiss, all practiced passion and heat. It was enough to send any man, and some women, to their knees.

From there, she stepped back upon the ledge that had kept small children from falling into the water below, the gleam never leaving her eye.

"You said I'm under arrest. So arrest me. Try your best. You've come closer than anyone."

He tried to regain himself and lunged forward, though that amount of time was all that it took for her to lean back on her heels and begin to plummet backward towards the black water below.

"Too slow!" Riné laughed, and when the policeman looked down after her, he saw the splash. Nobody could have survived that fall—not even the best swimmer in the city.

And when they searched the area in the morning, the almost-arresting officer, Mikhail Dubois, watched the others pull the dandelion-yellow coat, the Bandit King's trademark, from the deadly waters.

Riné, however, was nowhere in sight. And that was exactly how she'd wanted it