Chapter 1
Damn my hips.
I shifted to the right, hoping the dagger on my left hip would slide over the window frame and allow me to shimmy inside with greater ease. I probably should have taken the blasted thing off before trying to shove myself through a tiny window, but you know . . . hindsight and all.
Why does this have to be the only way into this stupid home?
The mark, a shifter mafia leader, must have thought no one would come after him while he was on the toilet. And honestly, it was a good assumption.
How many people could scale four stories, and squeeze themselves through a window barely bigger than a chihuahua sized doggie door?
I was among the few, and I’d only chosen this route because Xavier wanted this job done fast.What that dang vampire wanted, he usually got.
My fingers gripped the windowpane, and I pushed. Inch by inch I wiggled my way forward, until the next thing I knew, I was flying over the toilet and headed straight for the floor. Thankfully, my hands had remained in front of me. Air flew from them, cushioning my fall so I didn’t break my face.
Still, I hadn’t acted quickly enough to eliminateallthe evidence of breaking and entering. The sound of my landing rang through the bathroom, loud and telling.
I leapt up and froze, waiting to see if anyone in the mansion had heard. Shifter ears were particularly sensitive. When no footsteps or voices came closer, I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d gotten lucky.
Taking a moment to readjust my dagger, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My long, white-blonde braid had goneseriouslyastray in my struggle with the window.
I huffed out a breath and deftly fixed it. Even the most despicable marks—and they were all pretty nasty individuals—deserved more respect than being done in by someone who looked like hell.
Once I was presentable, I moved to the door and twisted the knob slowly. Entering the hallway, I scanned left and then right before turning in the direction of the master suite. Quick glances inside every room I passed confirmed that they were empty of people. Actually, they weren’t just empty. Most reminded me of staged rooms in a furniture store, cold and un-lived in.
I’d taken a right turn when confirmation that I was closing in on the mark hit my ear. Music, identifiable as a song from the first Godfather movie, trilled through the hallway, punctuated by bursts of male laughter.
The Godfather, how typical. He’s probably taking pointers.
I rolled my eyes and pulled my dagger from its scabbard, careful to keep the tip away from my skin.
Shifters were formidable foes, their senses unparalleled. They were also strong and could outlast most of their opponents. Especially when the shifter was a 250-pound alpha wolf, and his opponent was a 140-pound demi-fae.
But not even shifters could survive the batrachotoxin my employer purchased from South America for jobs like this one. Still, even with the aid of poison, I had to be silent as the night to succeed.
I called air again, and bid it to create a buffer along my skin, holding in my scent. Only when I was sure that defense was secure did I begin walking, dagger poised in my striking hand.
Once I reached the door to the theater room, I peeked inside.
An exhale left me. The alpha wolf was alone. This job would be much less messy than I’d expected.
I pressed the air buffer as far out as possible, bidding it to muffle my sound as well as my scent. Then, with bated breath, I tiptoed toward the brown leather sectional.
I had the good luck of arriving right in the middle of a scene riddled with gunfire. The sound system was on point, loud and crisp and perfect for covering my tracks. And, unsurprisingly, the alpha wolf was cheering and howling with laughter at every grizzly death.
Geez, this guy’s a disgusting asshole.
As I got closer, the scent of popcorn, buttery and delicious, filled my nostrils. I approached the couch and was close enough to distinguish the alpha’s gray hairs from the brown when the wolf-shifter turned slowly and stared me dead in the eyes.
“You’re a little young, aren’t you?” He spoke without a trace of fear in his well-lined face. Obviously, he’d never heard of me.
“I’ve been around the block a time or two,” I replied coolly.
A corner of his lips lifted. “We’ll see about that. Get her, boys.”
My stomach dropped as two figures appeared at the edges of the couch. Hulking wolf-shifters with pistols aimed straight at me.
I flew into motion, rebounding off the couch and into a roundhouse kick that clocked the closest wolf straight in the temple. As he fell, I swiped him with the dagger before twisting and hurling it at the other attacker. The blade landed on target—between his eyes—and he fell too. I yanked the dagger out of his skull, and was about to burst out of my crouch when theclickof a gun cocking stopped me.
