Ivan Snow strolled into the spacious lobby—though maybe it wasn’t called a lobby when it was an old brick row house like this. He had nothing against the house, it was lovely, but he had something against Remington Redwood, the owner of the house. It all started a tragic night two years ago.
Remington called him an agent, but he wasn’t. He committed crimes to pay off his debt.
Raina, Ivan’s beloved sister, had made a bet. A bet!
She’d run into Remington at a bar, had a lifetime of drinks too many, and had made a bet. She didn’t remember the details, but it had something to do with her being able to get past his security—she couldn’t—and steal a vampire from him. She had one killed. Though strangely enough, the vampire had been killed on a floor she hadn’t been on.
Ivan was sure Remington had killed the vampire himself or had a guard do it, and then he’d gotten Raina to sign a deal where she promised she’d work off the debt. Vampires were expensive, but not as expensive as Remington had claimed, and Raina was many things, but a successful thief she was not. Ivan had renegotiated the deal. He would work off the debt—with interest, of course.
The debt should have been paid off already, but Remington always fiddled with the numbers. After this job, he’d be free.
It made him suspicious as to why he’d been summoned in a hurry. Ivan did other things when demanded, but his main job was being a cat burglar, and when you were a cat burglar, you needed time to prepare.
This hit was supposed to happen today, so Remington either planned to kill him or have him caught.
“Snow!” Remington came walking toward him, smiling and clapping his hands the way old people did when delighted over something. Remington was neither old nor delighted, but he worked hard to perfect his upper-class creepiness, so Ivan wasn’t surprised.
“Likewise, old chap. I woke this morning and thought to myself: Why not make this the day I do my final job for Remington Redwood.”
The way Remington’s eyes widened for the slightest of moments told Ivan he was right. Remington planned for this to be the final job, one way or another. “What do we have?”
“The queen’s diamond is in town, and I have an eager buyer.”
Ivan suspected the queen had many diamonds. “The queen is here?” It was unlikely.
“No.” Remington jerked as if Ivan had said the most outlandish thing. “Lord Zelly is here with his wife and thirty of his closest guards.”
Vampires. Ivan allowed a mental sigh. He could melt into almost any environment—literally—but vampires were awesome creatures. Magnificent.
They were fast and strong, had a better sense of smell than humans, could see in the dark, and were damn hard to fool. He could fool them into thinking he was a clueless, ignorant human, but fooling their senses wasn’t as easy.
“I must insist you keep one guard with you at all times.”
One? “At all times? You might not be aware, Remi—” He enjoyed the flash of annoyance as he shortened his name. “—but I crawl through tight spaces.” He gestured at himself. His black clothes clung to his lithe frame. He always dressed in black, so he wouldn’t be easily seen in the dark, and his clothes were always tight fitting so he wouldn’t get caught in things while squeezing through narrow openings. His hair was black, as were his eyes when he wore his contacts. He had one dark, almost black eye, and one startling blue, but he wore contacts to make both of them dark.
Remington hummed and gestured toward the basement door.
“I know, Mr. Snow, but for this mission, you have to rethink your methods. I’ll place a GPS on the vampire in question, and I insist you wear one, too.” He held out a tiny round metal button. So they could track him. Of course.
“I have to decline.”
“You will wear it. I have three guards in your sister’s apartment as we speak.”
Motherfucker. He picked his phone from his pocket and dialed Raina’s number. He paced the dim area in front of the cages Remington kept in the basement. The air was cool, and the scent of unwashed people crammed together strong.
“Ivan, how delightful of you to check in.”
Ivan sighed at the cheery tone. “Do you have company?”
“Ah, yes. I don’t think they speak English. I’ve offered them pancakes, but they stare blankly at me.”
Ivan groaned. “Yeah, they’re probably ordered to do that.”
“Charming.”
Ivan shook his head and begged her not to provoke them, then he turned to Remington. “Fine. I’ll wear the tracker. My babysitter will wear a tracker, but the first stop I’ll make once we leave here is Raina’s house, and if the guards are still there when I arrive, you’ll never see them again. Understood?”
Remington watched him for several seconds as if to deem if he could kill three vampires, but then he nodded. “Fine.”
“All right, let’s get this freak show on the road.” Ivan scanned the cages and fought the urge to be sick. They might not be human, but they were still people, and slavery was so last millennium. “I want the smallest, slimmest girl you’ve got.”
Remi never let the females out of the cages unless it was to serve at some fancy dinner—again, so last millennium. “And no fucking chains. We’re to be invisible and quiet.”
“You get Jack, and he’ll be wearing chains.” Remington gestured at Ivan’s favorite vamp in the whole wide world, though today he’d truly hoped he’d get someone else. He always pretended he didn’t recognize him, always suggested someone else first not to appear too eager.
There was something about his Jack that made his heart beat faster, but this was a suicide mission, and he didn’t want Jack to die. He needed stealth and silence, and his Jack was the biggest, baddest vamp in the cage.
“Seriously.” Ivan sighed and popped his hip. “Did I say crawling through ventilation shafts and shit?”
Remington gave him a blank stare. “Solve it.”
“Okay, Charles, you’re with me.” He waved at Jack and turned his back to the vampires and Remington.
“Jack.” His Jack spoke in a gravelly tone which had Ivan suppressing a grin.
“Jack? No, the last one I was with was named Jack, and he looked nothing like you.” He narrowed his eyes and inspected Jack. He was skinnier than when Ivan had last seen him. Vampires needed blood to survive, but they needed food to sustain their physique. He’d never mistake Jack for anyone else, though, no matter how starved he was.
He had a scar running from the corner of his left eye down his cheek. A beard would only hide part of it. If he was allowed hair and a three-day stubble, he’d blend in among humans okay. His size would work against him, and all vampires were shaved, the females, too. Stupid rule. Ivan suspected it was yet another thing used to break them. Humans weren’t superior in any way, so the only way they could control a vampire was by breaking him or her.
“I went with you to the art museum last month.” To steal a painting. It had gone well. Jack had stalled the guards enough to let Ivan sneak away, despite having triggered an alarm he’d missed.
Ivan widened his eyes. “I’ve never been to the art museum. And I’m pretty sure that was John. It was John, right, Remi?”
The annoyed twitch by Remington’s eye had Ivan turning around, he gave Jack a wink.
If they died today, he’d at least ticked off Remington Redwood.
* * * *
Malik stared. His heart was beating hard in his chest as he fought to keep his face blank. Snow had not only winked at him, he’d provoked Master.
Stepping out of the cage, he held out his hands for the wizard Master had working for him to fasten the chains. They were heavy and rattled at each step.
Once he had a job guarding some important person for two weeks. They’d stayed in a hotel, and while Malik had been by the door the entire time, he’d seen the TV. The man had watched a lot of movies, so Malik had, too, and in one of them there had been criminals in orange clothes who’d worn chains, much like they had to do as soon as they left the cage.
“Okay, Charlie, first stop is my sister’s.” Snow shrugged. His slim body always in motion. His black hair pointing in every direction. Malik wanted to touch the hair. He’d never had any, and he’d never had a human allowing him to touch their hair.
“I’m Jack.” He wasn’t.
“The information.” Master took a step forward and handed a folder to Snow. “I’ll expect you back later today.”
“No.” Snow opened the folder and gave the first paper a quick scan. “We’ll be back when we’re done. It won’t be today; it might not be tomorrow either. We need to scope the place out, need to study Lord Important.”
“Zelly. His name is Lord Zelly.”
Malik watched Master grit his teeth. Did Snow know what he was doing? The punishment for provoking him like this would be severe.
Malik couldn’t let Master punish Snow.
“Frankly, Remi. I don’t give a rat’s ass what his name is. You’ve given me a case with no preparation time. You’ve picked the biggest vamp you’ve got, despite me asking for a small one, and you’ve put a tracker on both of us. A tracker not only you can track, but others can, too, should they hack into it.”
For a moment, Master’s eyes widened, then he schooled his face.
“Should I remind you of how you ended up in this situation to begin with?”
Snow laughed, and while Malik loved to see him laugh, it had unease curling in his gut. The laugh was wrong.
“No need, old man. No need. We’re off now, Johnny.”
Malik jumped when Snow touched his elbow. They might have been on several missions, but they didn’t touch. Three steps up the stairs, Snow stopped. “Clothes.” He looked down at Master now when he was higher up. Malik had to duck going up the stairs or he’d hit his head, but Snow stood straight, and his hair didn’t even brush against the ceiling.
The cold stone walls had Malik suppress a shiver as he waited for someone to move or say something.
“What kind of clothes?” Master’s voice echoed in the narrow stairway.
“For one, he’s hardly wearing any.” Snow gestured at Malik, who refused to be embarrassed by the threadbare shirt and too short pants. He had no say in what he wore. “And second, I need him to be dressed in black.”
“Not everyone has the means to look like a wannabe goth.”
Snow rolled his eyes dramatically and turned to Malik, who held his breath in waiting. “We’ll have to make do with what we can find then. I’m afraid my clothes won’t fit you well.”
Warmth coated Malik’s skin. Wearing Snow’s clothes.
“I want him back in the same condition he’s in.” Master glared at them both.
“I can’t make any promises, Remi. You know I can’t. Best-case scenario, he’ll be wrapped in cobwebs, worst…There might be bullet holes.”
Malik hoped for cobwebs—bullets hurt.
The chains swung and rattled as he hurried up the cellar stairs behind Snow. The air got warmer the higher they got, and once they’d crossed the hall and Snow opened the front door, sweltering summer heat hit.
“We’ll be in touch.” Snow waved.
“Wait.” Master blocked Malik’s way and turned to Snow, handing over the device triggering the stake in his chest.
“Seriously, Remi. I’ll be climbing walls. I need my hands. Carrying stuff doesn’t work.”
“He’ll attack you.”
Malik never would, and the way Snow sighed told him he didn’t think so either. They’d been on several missions, and Snow often left the trigger in the car. Now, he held out his hand so Master could place the little square thing with the button on his palm. The moment he did, Snow curled his fingers around it, and tossed it to Malik.
Malik caught it, only to almost drop it in fear of accidentally pushing the button. “Keep track of this, will you, James?”
“Jack!”
Malik jumped at Master’s outburst, but Snow grinned before turning him. “Sorry, sweetie, I’m bad with names…and faces. Your name is Jack?”
Malik was about to shake his head, but then his brain caught up with the sweetie and heat climbed his cheeks.
“We’re out of here, Remi. I’d say it was nice to see you, but I can only lie so many times in a day.”
For a moment, Malik believed he wouldn’t have to attack and capture Snow. It looked like Master was about to do it himself.