Entangled With the Thief (6 page)

They left the car and walked across the long driveway to the entrance of the house. With each step, Luke loosened up. She kept shooting glances to the side, amazed at the transformation. By the time she knocked on the door he might as well have been a different man. He stood a step too close for casual comfort and let his hand fall by his side, brushing against her thigh for just a moment too long. Mel let herself smile. They were already being watched on the security camera. He was perfect.

Marco’s butler, a human man nearing sixty, opened the door. His face hid any shock at seeing Mel and he led them inside to join the fray.

Luke wondered if Mel feared that he would wipe his mouth with the tablecloth or ask if they had a ce-ment pond out back. Simply because he didn’t live ostentatiously at home didn’t mean he had no experience in the world of the rich and gaudy.

He and Mel were the last to arrive. And judging by the reactions of everyone in the house they hadn’t been expected. He mentally matched names to the fact sheets that Mel had made him study before they left. There were only three people he didn’t recognize. One of whom was a man with dark hair in the far corner of the room. He was the only person not at least half-angled towards the door.

But the man – the mark – he corrected himself, approached them. Marco Aguilar should have been taller, given the way both Mel and Krista said his name. In just a day Luke had already built him up as some kind of legend in his imagination. But the man stood a little under six feet tall, stocky, and had a wicked scar that cut through half of his left cheek. Witches weren’t the most hearty when it came to immortals, but that he’d survived the wound, and not bothered to cover it up, let Luke know that the man could take a beating.

Mel offered no comment on where the scar had come from. Apparently it was not spoken of in polite company.

His skin was a dark brown, and his hair shiny and black. He wore it close to his head. Marco wore no jewelry, but his suit was of the highest quality, dark gray and nicely fitted. If the house hadn’t made it obvious, the clothing did. The man bled money. And from the company gathered around the white marble room, he collected power as well.

Marco approached Mel with both arms out and a huge smile on his face. He showed no surprise at the thief’s presence. But from the way two security guards moved out of the corner of Luke’s eye, Luke knew that the witch had notified his staff to be on high alert. Marco kissed both of Mel’s cheeks and spoke. His accent was tinged with a hint of the Mediterranean, though Luke didn’t know if it was African or European.

“My dearest cat!” said Marco, “After all these years you finally show up, and on such short notice.”

Mel let him keep hold of her hands while she spoke. Luke was surprised they spoke in English, though it might have been the most common language given the company. “I was in the area,” Mel explained. “And my companion here has begged to see what Mexico has to offer. I could think of no one better than you to stand as an example.”

While she spoke, she was Mel, but not the Mel that Luke had come to think of as the real one. There was a harshness to this version of her, like cut glass, that he hadn’t seen when they were alone. Yes, she could be ruthless, but it was a ruthlessness honed by determination. Here, she showed a hint of cruelty.

Was this really her?

He hoped for his own sake, for Cassie’s sake, and for the sake of his pack that the cruelty was an act. Because he was trusting her with everything.

“Who is your companion?” Marco inquired. He gave Luke a once over and dismissed him.

“A friend,” was all Mel said. Her vagueness did not pique the witch’s interest.

Marco took Mel’s arm and led her across the room. Luke followed a step behind, their silent shadow. He didn’t try to look menacing; he’d learned long ago that it was far more effective to seem aloof rather than intentionally dangerous.

Marco displayed his power through the company gathered and the objects dotting the edge of the large room. Expensive jewelry and statues stood on marble pillars. None of it was protected by obvious security, so Luke assumed there were magical deterrents. Mel seemed to be able to sense magic. Luke didn’t have that talent.

He took stock of the company. Nicola Souza, the jewel of the Mexican vampire scene for nearly a century, spoke to a man with dark skin in the corner of the room.  Luke couldn’t place the man, and his eyes kept slipping off of him before he could get a good look at his features.

Juan and Guadalupe Mendoza were with a group of other shapeshifters. Even before reading their file, Luke had been aware of the couple. They’d made a name for themselves by carving out a chunk of territory in central Mexico and labeling it as a safe haven. No violence, no infighting. They ruled with iron claws and remained unchallenged after fifty years. Not everyone at the party was Mexican –  there were several European guests and a few from Asia and Africa as well.

And everyone was speaking English.

Everyone, except for the three men on the far side of the room. In Mexico, Spanish should not have seemed out of place, but in this room it was. Luke listened for a moment, and then the man with dark hair, who he’d noted immediately when he entered, spoke. Luke's blood turned to ice.

This was Inicio Nunca –  the man who’d murdered his father.

It had been more than twenty-five years since he’d last seen him. And yet the man’s face was as fresh in his mind as it had been when he was six years old. Like most adult shapeshifters, he hadn’t aged a day past forty. His face only bore a few wrinkles and his hair was as black as jet. He laughed at something one of his men said, throwing his head back and letting the sound echo through the room.

He had already taken two steps toward him when he felt Mel’s hand on his arm. She spoke barely above a whisper. “What’s up, Torres?”

His name jolted him enough to think about where he was. He almost kept quiet, a plan to ambush the man beginning to form in the back of his mind. But they were working together, now. If he didn’t tell Mel, she might abandon him here, might abandon Cassie. “The man in the corner,” he nodded in Nunca’s direction. “He killed my father.”

Mel didn’t glance directly at them. Instead, she turned her head slowly, taking in the entire room. She didn’t pause when her eyes lit on Nunca, and by the time she looked back at him Luke didn’t know if she knew which man he was talking about. “Braids or scar?”

“Scar,” Luke hadn’t noticed the man with braided hair, his entire focus had been wrapped up in the murderous shapeshifter.

Mel closed her eyes for three seconds and took a deep breath. “Inicio Nunca controls the largest pack in Mexico. Not even the cartels fuck with him.” She took another deep breath, and Luke wondered what was going through her head. “Is he going to recognize you?”

“No, he hasn’t seen me since I was six.” He hadn’t seen the fight that took his father from him. His mother had shoved him into the arms of one of the teenagers there that night and instructed them to run and hide until she came to find them. “And he might think I’m dead anyway.” Twenty-six years was a long time, and they lived in a dangerous world.

The black man that Luke had noted earlier walked up to them. He addressed Mel. “It’s so unexpected to see you here. And you’ve brought a guest?” The man looked Luke up and down. There was something familiar about him, but Luke couldn’t latch onto it. It was almost like there was a disconnect between his eyes and his brain.

“A colleague,” said Mel. “Would you like an introduction?”

“You’ve been standing in the center of the room for more than two minutes. Marco will figure out you’re up to something very soon.” The man turned to Luke and nodded. “I’m Bob, by the way.”

It meant nothing the Luke, but the man clearly knew Mel, and was, perhaps, her friend. With deliberate nonchalance, they made their way to the side of the room where they could speak. They hadn’t escaped the prying eyes of the crowd, but they were no longer the center of attention.

Mel continued their conversation as if they hadn’t just added a third member to their party. That, more than anything, let him know that Bob could be trusted. At least when it came to Mel’s concerns. “Choose now. Do you want revenge or to help Cassie? We can’t do both tonight.”

It burned him up that Nunca was in the same room as him. Luke had not hunted the man down before, but it seemed that fate had put the two of them together. But if the choice was between revenge for an old wound or acting to save his sister, it wasn’t a choice at all. “I can always find him later.”

Mel stared at him for a moment, their eyes locked. She quirked up an eyebrow. “Give me your word on that.”

“I’ve made my decision; it's not my fault if you don’t trust it.” The gathering moved on around them, people mingling, admiring Marco’s works. “Now, are we going to get to work, or are you going to spend the rest of the night worried about my focus?”

Mel considered it a great sign of character that she didn’t smack the alpha hard against the cheek. But with Bob standing right there, and the rest of the room ready to latch onto anything interesting, she kept her impulses in check. Besides, the reaction wasn’t entirely his fault. Things were going belly up if she didn’t fix them quickly.

What the hell was Bob doing there?

She couldn’t ask him in so many words. He clearly had a reason to be there, just as she did. She only hoped they weren’t after the same goal.

“I’m going to go mingle,” Luke said, enacting phase one of their plan and leaving her alone to speak with Bob.

Bob spoke before she even had a chance to turn and face him. “You’re keeping interesting company. And clearly it’s of your own free will.”

Two could play at that game. “I thought you hated fancy parties.”

Bob shrugged. “Marco’s a friend.” And she wasn’t. He’d made that abundantly clear when they worked together to steal the Scarlet Emerald. “Are you after what I think you’re after?” he asked.

“Are you going to tell Marco?” she replied. She hoped Bob still respected her enough to give her a warning, and hated herself for knowing she barely deserved one.

“He knows what you are, I’d say that’s warning enough.” Bob took a sip of champagne from the flute he held loosely. “I’ve got useful information if you tell me why you’ve chosen your particular partner.”

He wouldn’t lie. It wasn’t that there was honor among thieves, but they had been partners many times before, and Bob wouldn’t let idle curiosity ruin a business relationship. And she trusted his discretion. “He’s got my scry stone and some witches
hurt
Cassie.” She couldn’t say the actual word where Marco was sure to hear it, but Bob understood.

His eyes widened slightly, but he kept his expression neutral. “So are you doing it for the payment, then?”

She didn’t answer.

Bob didn’t press the issue. He offered his information, fulfilling their bargain. “The weight sensor is malfunctioning. He’s spreading it around that he has no product available, but it’s just a cover until he can fix his security.”

“I could kiss you right now.” She tried to keep the excitement out of her voice and probably failed miserably.

“I think your alpha would object.” He walked away before she could disagree or tell him that there wasn’t anything going on between them.

Luke wasn’t her alpha, just as she wasn’t his thief. They were business partners. And once Cassie was better they would go their separate ways. For good.

She grabbed her own wine and spoke with several of the attendees. Sitting sullenly in the corner would serve no purpose, and Marco would know it was out of character. Luke found her after a while, a smile on his face. “I’ve heard of the Mendozas,” he said, “But I never thought I would meet them.”

“Star struck?” She grinned at him, his excitement infectious.

“You do realize that some people find me intimidating?” He asked, deceptively casual. Mel couldn’t wait to be alone with him the next time he took that tone.

But not just yet. “They’re all fools. You’re just a giant kitten.”

“Let’s see if you feel that way when you see my claws, thief.” Menace didn’t lace his words –  it was seduction.

If Mel was a different person, if they were in a different place, she’d act far differently than she needed to. But lord knew she wanted to play with the alpha. “Rundown?” She asked, all business.

Luke followed her lead, switching gears. “Rotation of three security guards, they pass by every ten minutes. I couldn’t get out of the immediate vicinity without arousing suspicion.”

Mel nodded, “Good. Then we’re still on.”

“Who’s Bob?” He asked. Marco signaled them all to come to dinner and they both went, sharing whispers all the way.

“An occasional colleague and former friend. He knows who you are and why we’re here. He won’t sell us out,” saying it out loud firmed her resolve. “He’s here for his own reasons, but he would have told me if they interfered with ours.”