Bloodlines (Demons of Oblivion) (7 page)

The
lock picks
!

I grabbed his wrists and guided his hands back to my shoulders.

“Don’t touch the hair,” I advised him.

Okay, so I was getting a little distracted. I had considered seducing Nathan and I ended up with James. Well...all right, James was doing some seducing of his own. I guess it was a mutual seduction.

“There should be some rooms around here.” He started trying doorknobs as we stumbled down the hall.

“You’re sure we should be taking advantage of our host’s hospitality like this?” I tore off his jacket, which I think lessened the believability of my concern.

We fell against a door and it flew open under our weight as he turned the knob.

“He should have locked the doors,” he said with a grin, and kicked the door shut once we were in the room.

He took me in his arms, lifted me off the ground, and carried me blindly in the dark. We tumbled onto the bed—

And I froze.

“What’s—” he began, but I slammed my hand over his mouth, wincing as I hoped the force wasn’t enough to decapitate him. It would be really messy—I had done that once before. Well...twice.

He tried to speak again, but I hissed for him to be quiet.

My “
Spidey
Sense
” was tingling. Sure, my senses were vampire-y, but “Spidey” just sounded better. Whatever the sense was called, something was definitely tingling, and it had little to do with the attractive man undressing me.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. James moved my hand away and we slowly sat up to listen.

Another set of footfalls followed. Heavy, thumping. Male. A pair of low voices rumbled. If I listened closely—

“Why would she come when she knows how you feel about her?” one of the men demanded.

“I told you she would be welcome, yet she didn’t have the decency to show. That is your problem, not mine...”

A door slammed, and that was the end of the conversation.

Who “she” was had me curious. Could that have been the O’Connors? Who else would be wandering around the upper level of the house? Besides guests getting naked, of course.

The interruption was enough to remind me why I was there in the first place. I had to quickly rob and murder a couple of warlocks. No pretending otherwise. But here was James, all rumpled and adorable...

When faced with a choice between a really cute guy and money—and you’ve got three hundred years of perspective—you remember what’s truly important in life.

I hopped off James and started for the door. Attractive men always end up aging poorly anyway.

“You know, now that I think about it, maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I said. “I really am sorry—”

“It’s quite all right,” he assured me as he followed. “I understand completely. We are his guests, after all.”

“Exactly,” I agreed, glad that he wouldn’t push further. If he didn’t take “Sorry, but no,” as an answer, I would have to kill him, and that would be a shame.

I eased open the door and held back, listening. No sound of anyone in the hallway, and as I stuck my head out to look, I didn’t see people either.

“All clear?” he asked, and I turned to see his state of dress had basically returned to what it was prior to our reaching the upstairs.

“Looks to be.” I slid through the doorway first; James followed. We crept down the corridor, the burgundy carpet runner along the floor muffling my heels. I tried to lag behind him so I could slip into another room and remain upstairs while the party ended, but to my dismay, James stayed at my side. Ugh. I hated clingy.

“You know, I think I’d like to stop in the powder room.”
So go away.
“There must be one around here somewhere.”

“Would you like me to help you find—”

“No, thank you. I’m sure I can manage. You go on back downstairs, and perhaps we can finish this up after the party.” I smiled as sweetly as I could and prayed he would just go away so I could start stealing.

“Yes, I’ll definitely look for you, darling.” He leaned over to kiss me once more.

Perspective,
Zara,
perspective
... I turned my head, dodging his kiss so he only managed a peck, and then I turned in the opposite direction of the main staircase.
One step, two step, three step
... I glanced back. He was gone.

I took a few minutes to gather my thoughts. So where the hell was I? Probably the row of bedrooms and private family quarters.

So
there
should
be
an
official
office,
study,
and
library
around
here
somewhere
. I doubted I would find O’Connor’s safe, but there would probably be several other items of value.

I skipped the office and went straight for the study. I kept the lights off as to avoid anyone spotting me from the outside, instead relying on my sharp, vampire night vision. It certainly came in handy sometimes. Or at least the times I couldn’t manage to sneak in a penlight in my cleavage.

Once I had the two nylon bags out and unfolded, I rifled through the shelves, taking the marble, platinum, gold, and jewel encrusted pieces that adorned the place. I didn’t do art collecting or any of that crap—had no talent for spotting those kinds of valuables—but I could usually tell a cheap knockoff from the real thing. Expensive shit was usually uglier than fuck, so I snatched the hideous pieces that would fit in my bags. With the room bare of anything of significant value that was small enough to carry, I pulled the picks and tension wrench from my hair and went to work on the desk drawers and locked cabinets.

I slung the first full pack onto my back by the thin—but sturdy—straps attached to it, and exited the room.
Six
rooms
down
the
hall
and
... I paused at the sixth door at the back of the house and tried the knob.

Locked.

I got out my picks again, and just as I was sliding the tension wrench into place, voices sounded at the other end of the hallway.

Shit
. I bolted toward the next door and slipped inside before whoever was coming could see me.

“What are you doing?”

The hard voice sent a fresh chill wiggling along my spine. I turned to see Sean O’Connor himself standing by his office desk, file folder poised in his hand. Behind him, his wall safe lay wide open. I grinned. Two birds, one really strong, fast, deadly stone. Sweet.

“Can you believe I got completely lost?” I giggled. “You should probably, like, hand maps out at the door or something.”

“You aren’t supposed to be up here.” His voice was smooth and cold; it might have scared another person into backing out of the room immediately. Not me, however.

“I know, it’s not very polite of me,” I admitted. “But, see, there’s this really big stack of bonds and cash and stuff in that safe behind you, and I would very much like to have it. There’s a Porsche I’ve been eyeing for the past few months, and that bit of extra cash there would definitely be a big help.”

“I don’t think so,” O’Connor replied with a glare.

“No? You’re sure?”

He reached over and slammed the safe door shut.

“Damn. I guess I’ll just have to crack it open after I’ve killed you.”

“Several guards are on their way up,” he warned.

My eyes lit up. “Really? Several? More money for me, I suppose.”

“Who are you?”

“Zara Lain. Expert thief and assassin extraordinaire, at your service. Well, I’m not really at
your
service. You see, I’ll be killing you now.”

“No, I don’t believe that you will.”

I rocked on my feet, muscles tensing. My strappy sandals were cute and all but I probably should’ve slipped them off in the other room; stilettos look hot but even awesome vampire chicks have trouble fighting in them.

I made note of the exits in my peripheral vision. Besides the one behind me, there was one other—a door to his left. I was turned around some, but it led to a bedroom if my blueprints were correct. And if
that
was his safe behind him, this was his office, and the bedroom would be his too.

He could’ve run for it. Most humans would and I prepped to dart for the door to intercept him.

Instead he muttered a few words of a spell.

The huge, wingback chair beside him lifted off the ground.

Telekinesis spells. Great.

Dark blue velvet and cherry wood flew over the desk, spinning once, and then shot toward me at an alarming speed.

With one punch, I smashed it in two; the pieces fell on either side of me. I flexed my fingers and blood curled around my knuckles, wounds already healing.

The next incantation hurled books, framed photos, and every other small item from around the room at me. He’d run out of stuff eventually, but I had to move fast. I dodged what I could, raced across the room toward him.

A heavy, four drawer filing cabinet met me head on, crashing into my chest and nicking my chin; it threw me back against the far wall. The lock picks, still in one hand, scattered across the floor, and the
crack
behind me suggested a few of the stolen valuables in my pack hadn’t survived.

Either that or it was one of my ribs, but I’d
probably
have felt that.

The steel cabinet came barreling toward me once more. I rolled across the floor, barely missing its path when it rammed into the wall and embedded itself into the door and part of the drywall.

O’Connor was pretty feisty for such an old guy, but there were only so many things he could throw at me. I leapt to my feet and dove for him.

He tossed me back again, this time with sheer force of magic. Goddamn fucking telekinesis spells—

Something tightened around my throat.

I reached for my neck, fingers clawing—realized it was my own hair strangling me. That really didn’t concern me at first, as I didn’t require oxygen, but after a few moments of it constricting, O’Connor’s intentions became clear. He meant to remove my lovely head completely.

And unlike a knife wound in the gut, that
was
one sure way of killing a vampire.

Chapter Seven

Surprises

Motherfucker.

Sean O’Connor strolled toward me.

“Vampire,” he said, the word dripping off of his lips like it was filth.

“I prefer ‘Mortality Challenged’ if you don’t mind,” I replied. The strands of hair tightened around my throat to the point it would have choked the breath from a human. My fingers curled, nails biting into my neck but I
had
to get it loose if I was going to distract him with witty repartee.

“
You
presumed to kill me?” He laughed
and
stopped just out of my kicking range. Prick.

I sucked in a breath so I could at least speak. “Put it in the present tense, and yeah, I do. Nothing personal. It’s just in my job description.” Goddamn it, I wished I’d gone with the seduction plan. Sex with O’Connor’s hot son would have been
so
much better than lying there being strangled by my own hair. I probably should have taken Mishka’s advice a few weeks earlier when she suggested cutting it to my shoulders.

Vanity, thy name is Zara. And Zara, you’re going to have your head squeezed off.

Something shiny caught my eye. A few feet from my side was one of my lock picks. If I could reach it...

He shook his head with mock-sadness, wrinkled brow pulling into a frown. “And such a pretty thing, too. A pity.”

“Hey, that’s...” I paused and tried to focus on my banter with the man trying to kill me rather than the fact that he was close to succeeding. “...that’s sexual harassment in the workplace. I am
totally
going to sue your ass.”

I stretched my arm as far as I could. The pick was almost in my grasp...

“Brute strength does little against magic, vampire.” He sounded quite pleased with himself. I definitely needed to do something about that.

At last, my fingers touched the steel. I snatched the tool and whipped it at O’Connor.

The tiny metal pick struck his calf. I put enough force behind it to drive it straight into his leg.

O’Connor yelped and stumbled back. My hair tumbled past my shoulders as his concentration broke.

I hopped to my feet. “Yeah, well, there’s a reason we’re at the top of the food chain, moron.”

He looked at me as I took his head in both my hands. Blue eyes got wide. Just as he stumbled though the first few words of an incantation that would without a doubt be harmful to me, I gave his head a twist. His neck snapped and I let Sean O’Connor crumple to the floor.

One down, one to go. Piece of cake...really.

Note
to
self:
next
time,
don’t
underestimate
the
warlock
.

I rolled my right shoulder, then my left. Reached up to touch the dents in my neck from the rope of my hair he’d tried to decapitate me with. Jeez, that fucking
hurt
. I dropped my hands again, splayed my fingers—the right was still bloody with woodchips from the chair I’d smashed. Lovely. No way I’d sneak out the front door looking like
this
.

I stepped over the body and went up to the safe. A combination lock was all that stood between me and the valuables O’Connor kept in it.

Heavy footsteps thudded down the hall; my heartbeat quickened. It sounded like a bloody army was out there. Guess he wasn’t lying about the guards. Maybe I’d get lucky and they’d throw themselves on their swords for failing to protect their employer?

I pressed my ear up to the safe and turned the dial with care. With my acute hearing, I
should
be able to—