Pixie The Lion Tamer (Shifters, Inc.) (8 page)

             
She sighed and sank back into him.  She’d never been known for her willpower.

Pixie checked her reflection in the full length mirror.  She wore a body hugging blue silk gown with a plunging neckline, with a skirt that flared out like the bell of a flower
.   She had a matching silk purse, and a blue shawl completed the outfit. Dominick was straightening the red bowtie on his tux.   He looked shockingly handsome; he was made to wear a tux.

They’d spent the day locked in their room, with the guards bringing them breakfast and then lunch.

Then that afternoon, they’d been led into a bigger bedroom, with apricot glazed walls, a hand painted wooden chest of drawers, and an iron four poster bed with a gown and a tux laid out on it.   They were told to get dressed, and the guards had left them alone. 

Ion had
even provided shoes, in the right size, and makeup and jewelry for Pixie.  He’d given Pixie her blonde wig back, without the lock picks in it, unfortunately.  Dominick still wore the copper ring on his ankle; he was just waiting for the right moment to tear it off.

Once they’d finished dressing, the door swung open, and
Ion strolled in, with a sheaf of papers in his hand.  Today his suit was tweed herringbone, again perfectly tailored, with his pocket square coordinated to the color of his tie.  He still wore the glasses.

He looked them up and down with a cool, appraising glance.

“Very nice,” he said.  He handed Dominick a paper envelope, and slapped a copy of a blueprint down on the chest of drawers in front of them.

“The envelope contains your invitation,” he told them.  “You will be attending a party thrown by a man named Craig Biltmore, at the Freemore House.” Pixie recognized the name.  It was a 19
th
century mansion that was frequently rented out for posh parties.  She’d been there before, back in her full time thieving days.  She’d gone on a dare, and come back with a designer purse full of stolen swag.  She’d even stolen the purse. 

She knew the name of Craig Biltmore
, too; she’d seen it in the local papers.  He was very mysterious.  She didn’t recall ever seeing a picture of him.  He’d come into town a year ago, nobody knew anything about his past, and he donated massive amounts of money to charity, in the name of something called the Rose Foundation.  Battered women’s shelters, a new wing for a children’s hospital, renovations for the city’s museum, massive grants to the local university, a string of no kill animal shelters, afterschool programs for underprivileged kids…he’d donated hundreds of millions of dollars. 

And yet nobody could find out anything about his past, or where his money came from.

  “The party is a fundraiser for a local museum,” Ion continued. “Craig doesn’t usually attend his own parties, but he is making a rare public appearance, which is why I must make my move now.  There will be hundreds of wealthy art patrons there, and plenty of distractions.  An orchestra, jugglers, fire eaters, and the like.  Craig always did love a spectacle.  The reason you are going there is that Craig has stolen something of mine, and I need it back.  It’s a jewel, and he always wears it somewhere on his body.”

He held up a picture of the jewel
, a ruby the size of a fist.  It was so huge that it didn’t even look real, but Pixie was sure it was, with all of the trouble that Ion was going through to get it.  “It could be anywhere on him, and he may have it in a necklace, on a belt buckle, anywhere.” 

“
You will arrive at 7 p.m.  At precisely 8:00 p.m., my men will see to it that the power is cut and all of the lights in the house will go off.  You need to be right next to him at that point.  Because of your unique talents, I know that you will be able to get ahold of the jewel without him noticing, although he will very guess likely what’s happening once the lights go out.  As soon as you have the jewel, you will immediately head out through the ballroom, down that hallway, through the kitchen…” he traced his finger along the path.

“
You will exit out the kitchen’s back door,” he concluded.  “There will be several catering vans parked there.  One of them will say Van Smythe Brothers Catering.  Climb in, they will take you to meet me, and we will make a trade. You will give me the ruby, I will give you the antidote.”

“How do we know that you will?” Pixie asked suspiciously.

He smiled coldly. “You have no choice but to trust me.  I know that if I don’t give you the antidote, you and your friends, and the authorities, will not rest until you find me.  I don’t have any particular wish to see your friends dead; I just needed to assure your assistance.”

Pixie didn’t bother to tell him that either way, she and her surviving friends would hunt him down and kill him.  The other employees of Shifters, Inc. would come back from their assignments, and they would join up and make finding him their life’s mission, whether Bobbi and the rest survived or not.

It was killing her not knowing how her friends were doing.  Were they still alive, even now?

She shook her head.  Dwelling on it wouldn’t help anything.

“Why me, in particular?” Pixie demanded. “There are plenty of thieves who would do this for a fee, which you could clearly afford.  Why go through all this effort to recruit me?”

“That’s not your concern.  Your names are Marie and Thomas Cahill.  You’re wealthy art patrons from the Garden District of Playa Linda.  You will need to show them picture i.d. Here it is.”

He handed them two driver’s licenses, which had
been printed up with pictures of Dominick and Pixie, but with the Cahill’s names on them.

“Here you go,” he said.

“These are real people, aren’t they?” Pixie said. “Or they were.   You would need to send people that were actually on his guest list. You hacked your way into this man’s guest list, found people who more or less looked like us, and…”

She didn’t bother to finish her sentence.  He’d killed them.

She stared at him, at the twin mirrors of his sunglasses which hid his strange dark eyes.   She could see her angry face reflected back at her. “Do you ever wonder what Hell’s going to feel like?” she said coldly. 

He threw back his head
and laughed.  “I won’t have to worry about that for a long, long time,” he said, a mirthless smile quirking his lips, and then he turned and strode away. 

Don’t be too sure
, Pixie thought,  loathing flowing through her body.

* * *

Dominick’s arm was looped through Pixie’s as they walked up the marble steps of the McMansion monstrosity.  Fluted columns soared three stories high, topped by a massive portico.

They’d been driven to a neighborhood close to the mansion, and then given a Mercedes to drive.  The whole way there, they could see Ion’s men following them in several different cars, in case they tried to escape.  They’d already decided not to, though; at this point, they might as well grab the ruby and see how everything played out.  Dominick had removed the copper ring from his ankle as they drove, though, so he could shift whenever he needed to.

Their i.d.’s, checked at the mansion’s gate, had worked perfectly, and they’d driven to the large parking area  where they surrendered their car to a valet.  

Security was heavy, with muscular humans and shifters in suits wandering very conspicuously among the guests, scanning the crowd.
They were surrounded by the rich and beautiful, Playa Linda’s elite who streamed into the mansion’s ballroom in a sea of perfumed, flawlessly coiffed humanity.

“
I think I’m breaking out in hives,” Pixie said. “I’m allergic to rich stuck-up assholes. Oh wait, these are your people, aren’t they? Sorry.” She rolled her eyes.

Dominick laughed.  “
Money doesn’t have to turn you into a douche.  My family is pretty down to earth.  You’ll see when you meet them.”

“Why would I meet your family?” she asked, baffled.

Dominick didn’t get a chance to answer; he just nudged her and jerked his head in the direction of a silver-haired man in a custom tailored suit.  There was a throng of people crowded around him, eagerly competing for his attention.

“Is that Ion?” Pixie asked, startled.

“No, it isn’t.  It must be Craig Biltmore.  And they must be brothers, and the name Craig is a fake as well.”

“Check out those sunglasses,” Pixie murmured.

“I am.” Dominick glanced at him quickly,
then guided Pixie towards a table filled with hors deauvres.

“So they’re both into black magic.”

A string orchestra on a stage played classical music, and a massive crystal chandelier hung overhead.   There were indeed jugglers, and men on unicycles, and fire eaters. The atmosphere was festive and the crowd was eating it up.

Dominick turned to a man
who was standing nearby grabbing stuffed grape leaves.

“Do you know Mr. Biltmore?” he asked the man.  “We were sort of invited by friends of friends.”

“Not really. Nobody really knows him that well.”

She gla
nced around.  “I’ve got an idea,” she said to Dominick.  “I’m going to go mingle. I’ll be back.”

Dominick nodded, walked up to the bar, and
ordered a drink.  He waited for Pixie and fended off the attention of half a dozen attractive women in low cut gowns who brushed up against him, giggling and batting their eyes.

Looking at the other women, he felt nothing.  Nothing stirred in his loins, his pulse didn’t quicken. 
He felt annoyed.  He felt impatient. He wanted Pixie to come back.

He began making his way through the crowd, scouting for her.  Soon, the lights would be turning out, and they needed to be ready to flee.

Pixie was walking through the crowd, drawing the admiring glances of a leopard shifter in a tux.  He felt his temper rising, and he strangled on a low, angry growl as Pixie pushed her way towards him.  His fur itched underneath his skin, and his bones ached as he struggled to retain human form. 
She was his, and other men were looking at her.  They wanted her.  He should hurt them. Kill them.

She saw the look on his face when she reached him, and she put her hand on his arm.  Instantly he felt himself calming down.

Pixie stood on her tiptoes, and whispered into his ear.

“You have nothing to worry about,” she said, her hand tightening on his bicep. “You’re the hottest guy here.”

“Well, that’s true.” Dominick felt a grin spread across his face, and sunlight bathed his soul. “I’m starting to feel better.  I don’t know, though, I’m still kinda tempted to shift and rip out the throats of every man that’s looking at you.  You’d better tell me more.”

Pixie stifled a snort of amusement. 
“Really? Okay, you big baby. You were the best sex I’ve ever had.  I didn’t even think it was possible to have that many orgasms.  And when I see all these bitches checking you out, I want to rip their faces off.”  Pixie pressed up against him, and he felt warmth and contentment flowing through him.

“Really.
  I like it that you’re jealous of me.” He loved it, in fact.  He wanted her to be territorial.  He wanted her to want only him, and he wanted her to want him all to herself.

It was strange to think of the effect that she’d once had on him, the irritation that had pricked under his skin like burrs every time she walked in the roo
m.  Of course, it would happen again as soon as he donned the talisman.

Suddenly he found himself wishing he didn’t have to don the talisma
n again.  He didn’t want to forget this feeling.

Maybe he wouldn’t.  It had been three years. Maybe it was time for him to start living his life again, and to try to make a life with Pixie.

But was that wrong of him? Was it selfish?  He’d already met his fated mate, so it couldn’t possibly be Pixie.  That meant if they stayed together, he’d basically just be using her for sex.  He cared about her too much to do that. In fact, he cared about her a whole lot.  He wanted to stay friends with her after all of this was over – but who knew if that was even possible.  Sex complicated things.

His head started to hurt.  Why, of all the shifters in the world, did he have to be the one whose fated mate cheated on him?

His arm tightened around Pixie’s waist.  Having her press up against him felt so good, so right, that he never wanted to let her go.

Pixie flashed him a grin.

“Listen.  I’ve got good news,” she said.  “When I went to use the restroom, I-”

Before she could finish her thought
,  Craig Biltmore slipped in through the throng of people standing around them, and tapped her shoulder.

“May I borrow your wife for a dance?” he asked, and before Dominick could say a word, the man had whirled Pixie away.

Dominick swallowed hard.  He didn’t like it, didn’t want any other man touching Pixie, and especially not that man.  He felt a darkness rippling around the man, the same kind of darkness that clung to Ion. 

He had no choice, though.  Pixie needed to get close to the man in order to take the jewel.    Everything was going exactly according to plan.