The House of Shadows (Romance With A Bite)

Chapter 1

A woman should never have to hide in the thorns, especially when wearing leather. The bright pink flowers of the Bougainvillea shrubs hid their pure evilness nestled just behind the green leaves and inviting blooms.

“Ouch,” I complained for the fifth time as a woody thorn dug into my skin. “Who planted these here?”

It was a rhetorical question since my partner-in-crime and constant companion, Grim, couldn’t speak my language.

The large black dog crouched low enough to the ground that he could evade the nasty spikes sticking out of every branch of every bush planted in front of the performing arts center.

The dark hair running down his spine like a mane was pressed flatly against his back, as though each strand knew it should hunker down for safety.

Grim made a low rumble, and I could sense his annoyance with my complaints.

Grim was…well, I wasn’t sure exactly what kind of dog he was.

But he was a smart one and we had a special bond.

A bond that opened the lines of communication in a way that was a little more supernatural than natural.

Grim and I had a two-way psychic connection—or at least that was the best way I could describe it.

Instead of a common language, we could see each other’s thoughts and feelings.

It was a nifty mechanism for our less-than-legal career, but it could be annoying when we weren’t in perfect agreement.

I shook my head as I sensed Grim’s lack of empathy for my scratched-up arms. “I know I should have worn something else,” I grumbled at him.

He let out a sigh and I nudged him with my foot.

A glance of an image flashed in my head—Grim’s view of me from the ground below with a special focus on my leather vest and my bare arms. And with that image came a very smug attitude.

“Okay! Next time we have to hide in a bunch of deadly trees, I will cover my whole body.”

Grim huffed a sound that could be interpreted as a laugh. Grim could be a bit of an asshole sometimes.

A noise from the front of the building caught our attention and we refocused on our task at hand.

The coven had assured me that once the event was finished, minimal staff would be left to lock up and secure the building for the evening.

Grim and I had been watching for more than an hour now, and I was fairly certain only one person remained.

Tapping the vial in my back pocket, I ran through the directions in my head one more time.

The liquid inside would subdue the security guard long enough for me to grab my prize, but the trick was getting him to drink it.

Ramona, the witch who concocted the potion, didn’t give me any tips on how to best make an unwilling person drink.

She just smirked and said that was my problem.

Ramona could be an asshole too.

Grim shifted to his feet, somehow still avoiding the thorns.

He was focused on the single door to the left of the main entrance.

We’d been watching as the patrons attending the concert tonight had exited through the three sets of double doors surrounded by ornately carved wrought iron.

Dressed in their gowns and tuxedos, I’d learned that this had been a charity event to raise money for one of the local causes.

Not only did a portion of their tickets get donated, but the silent auction in the lobby would all but ensure a successful event.

Patrons from across the city had donated items sure to bring in the wealthiest of donors.

From jewelry to historical artifacts to paintings, this had been one of the events of the year for the richest of New Orleans to show their face.

And it was exactly why I was here tonight.

The Crescent Coven wanted one of the donated items, and they’d hired me to steal it.

Well, hired might be a bit of wishful thinking on my part.

I kind of owed them. Ever since they took me in after I’d aged out of foster care, I’d paid my dues by serving as their resident thief.

It was a skill I’d learned as a young girl, hopping around from house to house, and spending way too many nights on the street fending for myself.

Petty theft and sleight of hand were second nature to me by this point.

And when Grim showed up at my door on my eighteenth birthday, the same day the coven offered to take me in, I realized that this would be my career.

And why not? I never hurt anyone, and I was a damn good thief.

Adding Grim to the equation only made me that much better.

The large, brick building in front of us had been turned into a performing arts center a decade ago.

Once a place where they made actual bricks, it had been completely redesigned on the inside while still maintaining the historic charm and characteristics many of the buildings in New Orleans still had.

I’d attended a concert here once. It was on a really bad date with a man much too old and much too rich for me, but at least the performance had been worthwhile. The man…not so much.

Grim let out a low growl, obviously seeing the image of the rotund and grey man in my mind. Neither of us had been impressed, and that was one of those times I needed to fake a stomachache to avoid any type of interaction beyond the show. I shivered with the bad memories.

Thankfully, when the main lights turned off in the lobby and the single door started to open, I had a reason to forget the bad date and focus on the task at hand instead.

Grim inched forward, sniffing the air and scanning his surroundings.

Another round of images flashed in my head as I saw what he saw with his much better night vision and senses. We were clear.

A jingle of keys brought my focus back to the door and the middle-aged man who was now walking through it. Not paying attention to his surroundings, the man whistled some awful tune and immediately turned his back to us so he could lock the door.

That was his first mistake.

Grim and I took advantage of his ignorance and quickly wove our way out of the bushes and onto the brick pavers that lined the entire front entrance of the building.

I felt another burn of a thorn prick the side of my elbow but swore quietly in my head instead of alerting the security guard of our arrival.

As the man whistled in oblivion, Grim and I stalked forward making no sound at all.

It wasn’t until we were ten feet away that the guard finally noticed our approach and spun around so fast that he stumbled backward against the door.

He saw me first. Despite being dressed in my black leather thief uniform, my porcelain skin and bright red hair surely glowed under the incandescent lights illuminating the entryway.

I was used to that. I was also used to the jeering smile growing on his face as his gaze traveled up and down my body.

These were the times when I wished I had some magical powers like Ramona and the other witches so I could say one incantation and blind the man.

But, alas, all I had was a black belt in Aikido and my very large knife.

Oh, and I had Grim.

I knew the moment my dog crept from the shadows because the man in front of me paled so quickly I thought he might pass out.

A part of me was jealous that Grim had the power to incite instant fear.

Then again, Grim was a one-hundred-and-twenty-pound beast full of muscle whose shoulders were as high as my waist and whose jowls could easily cover a man’s entire head.

The security guard stumbled backward again and raised his hands out in front of him. “Whoa, there,” he stuttered. “Please keep that thing away from me.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you,” I cooed, inching closer and pulling the vial of liquid from my pocket.

Grim growled and I did my best to hide my smile. For being a dog, Grim sure did have a sick sense of humor. He wasn’t going to attack the man, but he loved making them squirm.

“What the hell?” the guard shouted. “Keep him away!” He squinted his eyes against the darkness and assessed the situation. “You should really keep killer dogs like that on a leash, lady.”

“Killer dog?” I asked. “What makes you think Grim is a killer?”

The guard's panicked eyes flashed my way. “You named him Grim? Like the Grim Reaper?” His voice pitched up an octave on the last word, and I kind of hated myself for loving how much fear he had. In one moment, he looked ready to devour me, and in the next, he was begging for his life…well, kind of.

“Don’t you think it fits him?” I asked, looking down at Grim with a smile. “He’s actually quite a big cuddle bug.” We moved closer and the guard let out a little squeal.

“Sure,” the man choked out as he slid to the ground. “Just keep him over there!”

“Grim won’t touch a hair on your head as long as you cooperate.”

The guard finally figured out that we were standing outside of the center for a reason. “Cooperate?” he squeaked.

“Yes,” I said matter-of-factly. “I need you to drink this.” Holding the vial in my hand, I reached forward toward the guard’s face. At this point, I was finally close enough to see his uniform and smell the garlic wafting off him in waves.

Lots of humans in New Orleans thought eating garlic would keep the vampires away. Unfortunately, they were very wrong.

“I’m not drinking that!” he spat.

Shoving down the gag building in my throat from the stench of his body odor, I crouched to the ground so that I was at eye level.

Catching the name on his uniform, I smiled and did my best to make him feel comfortable with me.

Grim and I liked to play good-cop bad-cop.

“Listen, Randall. I don’t want to make this any worse for you than it has to be.

But you really only have two choices here—drink the liquid voluntarily or we force you to drink it. ”

On cue, Grim growled at Randall and I pushed down my amusement.