So what if I was going against everything my parents ever taught me?
To complete the new look, I removed the fake brown contacts I wore to hide my alter ego, allowing my real violet irises to gaze through. The color was typically reserved for humans born with albinism, but my kind had a variety of hues, sometimes even several in one eye. Especially men.
After blowing myself a smooch in the mirror to calm my jittery nerves—my blood pumped with adrenaline as I readied myself for the job—I let myself out of the powder room and continued down the hall. The noise of the party faded away behind me.
I gave myself a wobbling step and a lurch here and there as I made my way up the stairs and around a few corners. Just a drunken partygoer on the hunt for the bathroom until a locked door indicated I had reached my destination. I hadn’t spotted any cameras, but that didn’t mean much in today’s computer-oriented world.
“Falcon to Alley Cat,” I said to the empty hallway, pretending to check something on my phone just in case anyone watched via hidden camera.
“You know I hate that name, right?” grumbled Kit’s deeper, contralto voice in my earpiece. A sultry songbird if I ever heard one.
Katherine Parker—or Kit as she preferred to be called and suited her personality so much better—was my best friend and partner in crime. With thick black braids, the right side of her head shaved into a pattern that changed every few months, and more tattoos than I could count anymore, most people had no idea she was a technological genius.
She could also kick your ass faster than you could blink, thanks to her background in martial arts and obsession with weightlifting.
Never judge a book by its cover.
“How about AC?” I asked, barely moving my lips.
She muttered something into the earpiece before answering. “No. You find it?”
“Door’s locked,” I said. “Can you turn off any cameras?”
“Does Elvis still live?”
It was a rhetorical question. Kit was one of those people who believed the crooner’s death was a government coverup and aliens had actually abducted him. No joke. Genius always came with a heaping side of crazy. That was why I loved the girl—she could handle my antics with ease.
“Done.”
“You’re the best,” I said as I approached the door.
“You know it.”
Setting the pins and opening the lock only took a few quick fiddles with my kit. I was sure Mr. Renauldo didn’t anticipate anyone attempting what I was about to. I smiled at his foolishness, though the safe would likely be harder to crack.
For anyone else, anyway.
After one more glance around the hallway to make sure no one would see, I opened and slipped around the door, then shut and locked it behind me. Because it was night, turning on the office light was a big no-no as anyone enjoying the pool area would notice a sudden light coming on. Instead, I let heat signatures rise in my vision.
Oddly enough, the sweet scent of cherry blossoms filled the room, nearly suffocating in its intensity. My nose crinkled against the invasive scent. Not a smell I would have attributed to the party host, but who was I to judge?
Two chairs faced a wooden desk, a floor-to-ceiling cabinet of knickknacks stood behind it, and the safe…
…sat wide open and empty.
2
Friday Night
Mother fucker. I was too late. Someone had beaten me to the jewelry box. For the first time ever, I had failed.
“People are headed your way, V,” Kit’s voice broke my slack-jawed stare. “You done?”
“It’s gone.” I blinked at the empty space where the box should have been.
“What? Shit. Well, get going. These guys might be part of the Community and look pretty serious. I think you’ve been made.”
Cursing under my breath, I glanced at the window beside the desk, contemplating a different escape route. Keys jingled outside, deciding for me. Window it would be.
I crossed the room in silence and slipped open the pane of glass. A key slid into the door’s lock and turned. I was sitting on the ledge of the window when the door opened, and two armed guards burst through. I winked in their direction before dropping.
“Stop!” a voice shouted from inside the office, which would have made me laugh for the absurdity of the command had I not already shifted out of my human form.
Had yelling at someone to stop ever actually worked for them?
In less time than it took to blink an eye, I had gone from woman to bird of prey, my human form and belongings waiting in stasis in some parallel dimension—the beauty of shifter magic in action. I flew to the nearest palm tree and landed on one of the fronds, trilling out my frustration at failing the job and almost getting caught in the process. The breeze ruffled the orange feathers on my chest, but the men at the window looking for me didn’t notice.
In my bird form, I wouldn’t be able to talk to Kit, but the blaring sirens and flashing red and blue lights pulling up out front of the mansion let me know the party was over.
Disappointment roiled within me, making my stomach clench. I dropped from the giant palm leaf and caught the wind, arcing out above the water before swooping back over the red-tiled roof. The bright hues of ultraviolet lights from this height made it easy for me to spot the humans as well as the smattering of Community members among the crowd. Each species had a distinct hue.
Then I spotted him.
Only it wasn’t the ultraviolet light that caught my eye—it was the lack of it. He was devoid of color to my avian vision; instead, he seemed to leak darkness. Wisps of swirling shadows trailed behind him as he walked. The short-haired woman next to him, the woman I knew as Sophia, was the same.
Grim reapers.
Even with feathers to keep me warm, my body trembled in the air current. Why in Ognebog’s blaze were they at this party? If they weren’t there to collect a soul, then it had to be an enforcement capacity. Had someone tipped them off about me?
The two reapers slid into a vehicle to leave, and I veered away, heading back to my place. I needed to find out who had beaten me to the box and steal it back, or else I would be in some very deep shit.
MY ONE-BEDROOM apartment wasn’t far from the coffee shop where I worked during the day, but the morning after the party and failed job, I needed to make a pit stop before heading in for my afternoon shift. Towering buildings cast plenty of shade in the morning hours, providing a small amount of relief from the oppressive humidity.
We took what we could get in a city like Miami.
Downtown on a weekday was congested, filled with honking horns and city bus air brakes. Businessmen and women dressed in suits or more casual linen slacks—the smarter choice for this heat, in my opinion—strode the sidewalks, each heading their own way and with a distinct sense of purpose.
On a Saturday like today, it was much livelier and full of color. From inside the more popular restaurants and bars, brass musicians belted out their Latin beats. As I passed open shop doors and windows, I enjoyed the fact that I didn’t need headphones to keep me company. I never wore them anyway; it was too hard to hear anyone sneaking up on me, and in my line of work—my nighttime line of work, I mean—not hearing someone behind me could be a fatal mistake.