The Rise of the Countess

The Gala

As a thief, New York is the land of opportunity.

-James Steele

Akheem Steele held a glass of red wine in his glittering fingertips. To everyone else they were a stylistic preference of the eccentric young man. But in reality they were the only external sign of his powers.

Like black diamonds, they glittered in the mid afternoon sun, scattering shards of light across walls. Though this spectacle went unnoticed by the gentlemen in his mid-twenties to whom they belong to.

He was tall with skin the color of toasted pecans. The majority of his hair had been buzzed off except for the crown of his head which had been twisted into thin silver and black dread locks. His hair was tied in a short ponytail leaving a few locs to dangle like side bangs covering one of his dark eyes.

Like the queens he emulated, Akheem was spread across the small couch clad in a grey silk kaftan. He poured over littered coffee table filled with papers, blueprints, timetables, and articles. To the unknowing eye it was Armageddon, but to Q it was his ticket out of there. If you were to peruse the articles you would find that they all were about the same thing: The Heart of Medici.

It was a necklace, said to belong to the infamous Counters Vanessa De Medici. It had been lost during the World War Two, but had been recently discovered during a recent archeological dig of the crypts beneath Paris. It had been flown across the pond to be revealed as the Center piece of the Metropolitan Museum of Art's latest exhibit and was being unveiled at a gala later that night.

Though he had graduated from FIT with a BFA in design he had been struggling to find work and with the student loan debt and the move to New York draining his bank account, Q had tapped into the skills he had inherited and honed with his grandfather, James Steele.

Despite his slightly privileged upbringing, living in Fairfield, Connecticut where he attended a private school for gifted youth and excelled in gymnastics, Akheem had spent his summers in Manhattan with his grandfather; an accomplished jewel thief. At the age of 6, Akheem showed a knack for thievery and his grandfather trained him as his protégé until his passing, Q's senior year in high school.

After the funeral, Akheem received a package addressed to him from his grandfather. It was a small rectangular black velvet box. Inside was a briolette cut stone that looked like Black Diamond on a tarnished silver chain. In actuality, it was zecrite and his grandfather's greatest treasure. Ten times stronger than diamond, the sparkling black crystal was rumored to be a piece of a meteor that landed on earth thousands of years ago. In ancient times it had been thought that the stone had mystical properties. It was easily worth billions, but something told Q that trading it for money would be a mistake he would regret for the rest of his life.

Several years later Akheem stood by the apartment's one window, as the early fall sun washed the small apartment in golden light. He played with the Zecrite pendant around his neck as he thought of what his grandfather would think of him now. Despite his training, and all the promptings of his grandfather that crime was the loneliest sport, Q had aligned himself with his former roommate Kartier Taylor. She had graduated from NYU with a degree in History and Archeology. But soon found that the only meaningful work she could find was as museum security. Q was pulled from his thoughts as he heard her open the door with their dry cleaning in hand.

"You're late." said Q without turning from the window.

"Oh bite me." Kiara said breathing heavily from having to walk up 6 flights of stairs since the elevator in their building was perpetually under maintenance.

Akheem placed his glass of wine on top of his plans before walking over to Kiara. "How's your day been darling?"

"Don't ask." She said flashing Q a look he knew all too well, "Your plan better work, cause I can't take this rubbish for much longer."