A Game of Hearts and Heists: A Steamy Lesbian Fantasy Romance (Girl Games Book 1)

Tonight is the night. The team is coming to the shop, and we’re going to discuss the plans. I hope I’ll be able to gather enough information to work out what exactly Scarlett has planned. Then I can create a secondary plan to protect my father.

Before we said goodnight, Scarlett was clear. We all needed sports kit ready for our first training session this evening.

Which is how I’ve ended up standing in front of a shop assistant with my hand on my hip, wildly unimpressed.

“Is this a joke? Are you fucking joking?” I say, my eyebrow high enough it practically crawls off my face.

I dangle the offending items out at her. She simply shrugs at me, flicking her long brown hair behind her shoulder. She chews a piece of gum noisily, blowing and popping bubbles.

“What? You said you wanted an outfit, and you have killer abs, so, like… show them off.”

“IN A CROP TOP? This is a training session. Gods. Don’t you have anything… anything more?”

“Sure,” she shrugs and disappears into the shop. When she returns, she dangles a top that has so little fabric it looks more like a ball gag.

“I said more?”

She blows a bubble and pops it. “This is more. More, extra. Duh.”

“We have different definitions of more.”

She shrugs. She’s one of the lucky ones who looks about twelve despite being in their twenties and will still appear thirty when she’s fifty. Her jaw grinds the gum as she stares into the void, and I wonder when she lost all her fucks.

“Gods. Fine. I’ll take what I’m wearing. I haven’t got time to change again. Can you price it up for me?”

She leaves without a word.

I catch sight of my abs in the changing room mirror; she has a point. They’re not defined or anything, but I have a small two pack under my ribs that slides nicely into a chunky belly and enough hips for at least three women. I turn this way and that. The crop top cuts me at the perfect position to show my ample breasts and… fuck’s sake. Maybe she was right. I would never have chosen this for myself, but I don’t look too bad. I suppose I don’t have a lot of choice now, anyway.

I pay and leave, returning to the apothecary warehouse at the rear of the shop. It takes two hours, but I create a vast space by pushing all the herbs and ingredient racking to the edges.

I order in chicken, salad, breads and a range of drinks. I don’t have time to cook, and I can’t imagine anyone else will have thought of organising dinner.

There’s a knock at the door. I open it to find Stirling, who whistles, giving me a very obvious glance up and down. “My sister is screwed,” she says and slides into the warehouse.

“Ooh, dinner. Thanks Quinn,” Stirling shouts as Morrigan, Remy and Jacob pile into the warehouse.

Then Scarlett appears in the doorway and halts. Her bottom lip drops as her eyes rake me up and down.

“Oh,” she says, her lips parted.

And immediately my skin heats, the way her gaze swallows me, the shortness of her breath, the way her throat bobs. She’s either peeling my clothes off inch by inch or plotting ways to kill me. Either way, it makes my knickers wet, my apex throb. I could shut the door, step outside, let her fuck me up against the alley wall. My nipples harden at the thought. Scarlett’s eyes find my breasts under the skin-tight fabric. As if she knows what I’m thinking. Knows why my nipples are erect.

I cough. I have to scrub the thoughts from my mind. Focus on the task at hand. Getting my journal back and finding out what she’s planning to do to my father and why.

“You can’t wear that,” she says, her tone steely.

“How dare y—”

She pulls me outside, shuts the door and pins me against it, exactly as I hoped. Her hands are on either side of my arms, locking me in place. Her breath is heavy, her cheeks rosy. She pulls a blade out from a thigh strap and hooks it under the band of the crop top, pulling it taught, taught enough a breeze rushes against the bottoms of my breasts.

“Watch it. That’s new,” I snarl, my core heating as my teeth clench.

“Well, you can’t wear it.”

“And why the hell not? Who are you to t—”

“—You can’t wear that unless you want me to cut you out of it and make you come all over your shop.”

She tugs the blade against the waistband, making the fabric ping against my flesh, a warm glimmer in her expression. She closes her eyes and leans her forehead against mine. Her fist slams against the door.

Oh. I see.

“What are you doing to me?” she says and lifts off my forehead. I slide my fingers to her waist, tug her close. Slide my hand to her waistband. It’s evening, the sun has set, and no one comes around the back of the warehouse. Perhaps a little fun wouldn’t hurt.

I pull at the top button, unhooking it. There’s a frisson of heat between us. She caresses my cheek; I lean into the warmth against her hand.

The warehouse door creaks, wind whistling through. “We should go inside.”

Scarlett sighs and looks down at me. “You’re going to have to pay for what you’re wearing, you know.” There’s a glint in her eye, a smile curving her plump lips.

“Am I?” I purr, sliding my hand between her thighs. She catches my wrist lightning quick, gripping it tight. It makes me gasp and my pussy clench.

“Don’t make it worse, or I’ll tie you up and spank you before I fuck you.”

I step into the warehouse, grinning hard. I glance over my shoulder. “We both know I’d like that.”

Her jaw clenches and her knuckles whiten over the hilt of her blade. Gods, I love that I can make her react like that. I smirk. “One nil to me.”

Perhaps games aren’t all bad after all.

We make our way to the table I set up at the corner. Everyone grabs a plate of food and takes a seat. Stirling has already rolled the maps and information the Queen gave us out onto the table. She’s shovelling food in when Morrigan twists and folds her fingers over a stick, the familiar pearlescent hue of magic brimming under her hands. She shoves the stick at Stirling.

Stirling picks up the stick, and a beam of light shines out the end, forming a dot on the map. Stirling’s face brightens. She mouths thank you at Morrigan, who folds her arms and turns her head away.

They’ve not made up then?

“Right, let us begin,” Scarlett says.

She stands after swallowing a bite of food and moves to the head of the table. Then she paces in front of us.

“Tonight, we plan, and then we train. We’ve got three weeks to get as organised as possible. The Queen has asked for us to deliver the map on the night of the Peace Ball, which is under four weeks away.”

“Three weeks to train, one week to execute?” Jacob asks, gnawing chicken off a thigh bone. When he’s done, he pulls his hand through his creamy locks. He really is rather handsome.

“Correct,” Scarlett replies.

Remy leans forward and pushes her clean plate away. I still haven’t talked to her since she joined the team. But then, it hasn’t been awkward between us either. It’s not like we dated for long, plus we were both young then. She was one of my first girlfriends. But equally, I will need to address it. Remy catches my eye and smiles softly at me. I return the smile. Scarlett notices and her face pinches.

“What’s the job? The only thing Stirling has told me is that it’s going to be the biggest pay day I’ve ever had, and that it will be dangerous,” Remy says, breaking the tension.

Morrigan leans forward, her long straight hair pulled into a messy pile, a pencil shoved in to keep the bun in place. “My guess is they wouldn’t have asked me unless it involved the Borderlands.” Morrigan’s deep tones drift from the back of the room.

“Delightful, Stirling, you failed to mention that little nugget of information,” Jacob says, glaring at her. He unzips his race jacket and slides it over his chair.

“Yes, it’s a job inside the Border,” Scarlett says. Stirling hands her the stick and Scarlett points it at the map.

“The Queen wants her piece of map back. Her plan is to restore the maps and our city. No more Old and New Imperium. Just Imperium.”

Remy leans back in her chair, and she runs a hand through her spiky white hair and whistles. “We’re stealing from the Border Lord himself and the Old Palace? That’s one helluva security job.”

Her eyes flick to mine, surprise widening them. She knows who I am, of course. We dated when we were teens. She knows everything, and thankfully, she’s wise enough to realise the predicament I’m in. Of course, Remy was long gone from my life when father became the Border Lord. But unlike everyone else, she knows me from before, which means she knows who he is to me, too. I pray she keeps her mouth shut. I give her a stern stare, the message clear. Keep your mouth shut. She raises an eyebrow at me and gives me an almost imperceptible nod, and my shoulders sag in response.

“We are. Our focus will be the main palace, not the smaller residential palace, as we have intel from the Queen that implies the map is stored in a vaulted room on the top floor,” Scarlett says.

“No wonder you needed us,” Jacob says. “Has anyone ever driven through the Border?”

No one answers.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Morrigan says, examining the Collection tattoos on her arms. “I believe I’m the only one with experience inside the Border?”

“Not quite,” I say, my voice quiet.

Everyone turns to me. A nervous little titter of a laugh spills out. “I used to live there. I was there when…”

There’s a collective gasp drawn, but no one asks me for more detail. Thankfully, Remy reads the situation and comes to my rescue, changing the subject.

“Right,” Remy starts and slots her arms behind her head. “What is the payoff?”

There’s the Remy I remember. She’s as lean and wispy as she was when we were teens. I try to crawl my memories from our time together. It was a few months at most. We were never well matched. Both of us are too ambitious, too desperate to get out of our area and find bigger things, live bigger lives. She left first, that’s why she wasn’t there when The Tearing happened.

“The Queen will offer us a royal favour,” Scarlett says.

Morrigan sits straighter, tilts her head, and stops examining her tattoos to focus on Scarlett.

“If we pull this off, we could ask for anything. The Queen will bestow insane amounts of coin on us. We’ll be set for life. All of us.”

“Yes,” Morrigan drawls. “And if we fail, the Border Lord will slit our throats and shower in our blood.”

I shiver at the thought. I know father has done some bad things in order to keep order inside the Borderlands, but I don’t understand why everyone has such a negative opinion of him. He’s not that bad. When no one else came to help us, he saved thousands of magicians. He should be lauded, not made into a pariah.

“We won’t fail,” Scarlett says, and the ice in her tone sets my teeth on edge. “Remy, you’re going to be in charge of getting us into the Palace. Morrigan might be able to help with that. She’s got Palace magic.”

The pair of them nod.

“Jacob. Your job is to research transport options out of the Borderlands. Quinn, you mentioned being able to help with routes in? The problem we have is that this is a covert op. The Queen can’t be seen sanctioning a mission against the Border Lord without inciting civil war. Therefore, we’re on our own. No Border passes, no paperwork.”

Jacob whistles.

I take the stick and aim it at the map. “We can’t go in along any of the trade routes or defended guard gate houses. Of which there are many.”

A grumble ripples through the room.

“That doesn’t leave a lot of options. We could travel south and across the sea? Come at the Border from the other side? I have a ton of ship contacts,” Stirling offers.

“No,” Morrigan snaps. “I don’t know the other side of the Border as well as this side.” Scarlett glances at Stirling. I follow a silent exchange between them, shared expressions and gazes only twins understand.

“How about you, Quinn?” Morrigan says.

I shake my head. “I think it would put us at a tactical disadvantage.”

“Fine, no boats,” Stirling raises her hands and drops them in her lap.

“I think we’re going to need to go in on foot. Through one of the less well guarded areas. We’ll need fast escape routes, though.” Jacob nods at me.

“Could you talk me through whatever transport lines still work in there and some routes in and out?” Jacob asks.

“Absolutely. There’s not much in there that works, but I can have a think and perhaps we can come up with some solutions together.”

Scarlett takes the stick. “Stirling, that leaves you with resources. We’re going to need supplies, food, sleeping equipment, medical packs.”

“I have the medical packs. I can bring those from the stores,” I say, pointing at the racking pushed against the warehouse walls.

“Excellent, one less job for me,” Stirling says.

“That still doesn’t give us a route in,” Morrigan says.

“Or any information about the Old Palace security?” Remy adds.

“Well, the Queen gave us some old schematics for the palace security, which is better than nothing,” Scarlett says and nods to Stirling, who shuffles the papers and slides a schematics map to Remy.

“And I might be able to help,” I say.

Scarlett catches my eye, her brow raised.

“Well, one of my family members works for the Border Lord, remember?”

Scarlett nods. “Do it. Make contact and see what you can find out.”

For the next two hours, we debate routes into the Border back and forth. Every time we thought we’d come up with a solution, someone would poo poo it. Either Morrigan had intel we didn’t or I knew father had put security traps in or it didn’t work logistically.

“Fuck,” I say louder than I’d intended.

“What?” Remy says and rubs her face, exhaustion setting in.

“We don’t go through the Border, we go under it. There’s another route in that I’m ninety-nine percent sure will get us in undetected, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Go on…” Scarlett says.

I take the pointer stick from her, our fingers brushing as it rolls into my palm. I aim the stick at the Never Woods and the mansion that guards the entrance.

“No fucking way,” Scarlett says. “Are you trying to get us all killed? That mansion was lethal back in the day.”

“Yes, but the mansion is dying now. And as for the woods, well, you’re a trained High-Assassin so you’ve led me to believe…” I’m goading her, but she needs to accept this because, truly, I don’t see what other choice we have. Every other entrance is guarded, and all the other routes aren’t viable.

“That’s a dangerous move,” Morrigan says, cutting the silence. “It’s a militia-owned mansion, and from what I can remember, it’s power was rooted in time magic. It could really screw us.”

“Do you see another option?” I ask.

She shakes her head. Me either.

Jacob has been quiet for a while, taking in all the options. But he sits up now. “Militia?”

“As in, not the Border Lord’s men. These are the worst of the worst. Those left with nothing after The Tearing. People who care not whether you live or die or become animal fodder. If you stand in their way, they’ll gut you. If you have something they want, they’ll gut you. And they have nothing to lose, which means they’ll fight dirty. If we are going through the Never Woods, and given there are no other options, then we’ll need to be prepared. We’ll all need to fight.” I glance at Scarlett, my stomach clenching and knotting. I can hold my own, but I’m not a fighter at heart. Even though it was my suggestion, the thought of going through the Never Woods terrifies me.

“Hold on, there are groups of people against the Border Lord inside the Borderlands?” Scarlett says.

I nod.

“Then why can’t we team up with them?”

“Scar,” Stirling says, a warning in her tone.

“You’re going after the Border Lord?” Remy asks, and her eyes skirt to mine.

I glare at her. My stomach clenches. Keep quiet. I’m screaming the words silently at her, praying she can understand.

Scarlett shrugs. “If he falls on my blade while we’re in the Old Palace, I won’t cry about it.”

My pulse quickens. This is it. This is the moment I find out what she’s planning. “Is killing the Border Lord part of our plan, then?” I say, picking at a nick in the fabric of my crop top where Scarlett held the blade. I daren’t glance up in case my expression gives me away. Remy’s eyes bore into me. It twists my guts into knots. What if she says something? What if she tells everyone?

“Damn right. That piece of shit deserves to pay for what he did,” Scarlett says.

“What did he do?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“He took everyth—”

“Scarlett,” Stirling barks. “Enough. Yes, killing the Border Lord would be deeply gratifying, but that is not the mission and not what we are focusing on.”

Scarlett spins her blade on the tip of her finger and nods at her sister. But the way her eyes narrow at the knife, I don’t believe for a second that she’ll drop it. I glance at the hilt, realising it’s the same one she stole from me that first night I met her. The one my father gave me. If she knew it was his…

What if she does?

No, I decide.

She can’t. Because if she knew who the Border Lord was, if she knew he was my father, I’d be dead already.