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
“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
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