by Rosko, Mandy
A Rose by Any Other Name
Copyright ⓒ 2019 Mandy Rosko
Published by M.T. Worlds Press, Inc.
Winter Springs, FL 32708
http://mtworldspress.com
Formatting by Glowing Moon Designs
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
http://mtworldspress.com
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Paranormal Dating Agency World
About the Author
Also by Mandy Rosko
A Rose by Any Other Name
Rita is the most amazing shifter in existence. She can turn into one of the most beautiful and clever animals in the world and she loves it.
Rita is a racoon shifter, and despite being so awesome, she’s not having an easy time finding her mate. When she tries to entice matchmaker extraordinaire, Gerri Wilder, with an offer for exchange of services, she’s dismayed that Gerri tells her no.
Something about having to wait till the time is right – bah!
So when she receives a mysterious message from Gerri, Rita thinks Gerri has finally taken her up on her generous offer. The thing is, Rita is expected to pull off a heist and steal an item of value for Gerri.
What she finds instead, is that Gerri sent her to meet a half-man, half-cyborg!
One who is really sexy and just Rita’s type…
Chapter One
Rita Procyon loved to steal other people’s shit.
It was her gift and her curse.
Namely because people since time immemorial seemed to think stealing was bad. It was. But it was also fun, which she wished they could understand.
Nothing could match the thrill of it, though. Organizing a job, getting the information on the target, learning the schedules of the guards and security teams, and then outwitting them all.
Sometimes, if the item was small enough, all Rita needed to do was shift. Then she could stick around and watch the aftermath. The stupid faces people made when they realize they’d had one pulled over them was the absolute best.
‘How did this happen? No one could have gotten past me. I didn’t see anyone come this way.’
She’d thought about investing in small cameras. Then she could replay the scenes over and over, at home, eating popcorn and praising herself for outwitting the fools who thought they were so much better than everyone else.
But, no. She’d have to keep it all recorded in her brain only because all it would take was one shit-head who knew their way around a computer, who could track her down. So her paranoia won out over the need to see her targets squirm.
Getting away was the easy part, especially if she was shifted. All she had to do was hang around the trash bins, pretend to have a snack, and she’d get shooed away. After all, no one actually thought a raccoon would be stealing from the house safe.
Raccoons were amazing. Rita thought so. She loved being a raccoon.
She was a floofy, mischievous little devil, and since no one wanted to get near her in that shape—due to their bigoted ideas of raccoons being full of diseases instead of full of awesome—it made it all the easier for her to make her escape.
She could climb trees. She could slink around roofs and garages, and no one would think twice about it. No one would suspect what was coming.
Sometimes people spotted her, and they got out the hose to try to chase her away, but no one called the cops on her.
Her favorite jobs were the ones on targets who deserved it, but that wasn’t always the case. She couldn’t always pick and choose who was going to get a visit from the amazing, masked menace in the night, but that came with the job.
If there was ever someone who definitely didn’t deserve it, a single mom, or some struggling guy who was just trying to earn some cash for his kids, she turned the job down. Rita didn’t go as far as to flatter herself by thinking she was a modern female version of Robin Hood, but there was still something to be said about having honor amongst thieves. She’d rather eat Ramen for dinner for a week and pay her rent late than deal with the blight on her conscious.
“Yes, Rita, I get it. You’re a great thief, but you have morals. Unfortunately, offering your services in exchange for mine just isn’t how this all works.” Gerri had cut her off.
“Gerri, please. You don’t understand. I’m not some ferocious wolf, some perfect mate for an alpha. None of the packs are interested. Pack mothers would die before letting a raccoon mate with their sons.”
Gerri sniffed and eyed Rita, offended. “As one who is easily underestimated, you’d do well not to underestimate others. I’ve matched countless shifters, and I do understand the difficulties you face.”
Rita did know. Gerri had many matches that ended in marriage and kids. Settling down wasn’t exactly in Rita’s immediate sights, but she was in her thirties now. If she ever wanted that option, she needed to start thinking about it.
It wasn’t just about finding the right fit. She had to find her true mate; otherwise, she wouldn’t even be able to get pregnant.
Banging random guys wouldn’t satisfy Rita in the long run. She did want a happily ever after.
She wanted the real deal, and she might not have her timeline exactly set up yet, but she was working on it. That was the important thing.
“You know it’s not like there are raccoon shifter families I can just pop in and find a mate in.”
“Yes, I do understand that. But what I do isn’t a simple dating service. You’re on my list, and there’s no jumping up it, no matter what you offer me. You could offer to steal the Crown Jewels themselves, but that’s not going to make your perfect mate appear. I promise the moment I have anything for you, you’ll hear from me.”
And that was that.
Until now. Gerri had sent her a letter. No call, no in-person meeting to hear about leads on Rita’s mate. Just instructions. A date, address, and room number. Rita knew that Gerri wouldn’t have just changed her mind about a barter - this had to mean that Gerri had a lead on Rita’s mate! The time had come!
Rita was surprised when she searched the address and found it was in a residential location. Sure, it was in a well-off neighborhood, but she’d assumed Gerri would want her to infiltrate some big corporation for secrets or something. Maybe the secret algorithm from one of the big-name matchmaking sites. Surely they kept that thing in a vault, like a secret recipe.
But no, Gerri sent her to a regular old rich people mansion. Judging by what Rita could see from the satellite maps, it seemed to be like any of her other upper-class marks. Her daytime reconnaissance in her shifter form outside the home also didn’t reveal anything odd. In a normal circumstance, she’d discuss the job with her client to find out if there was anything else she should know about the owner and the danger that might be waiting for her. Rita knew better than to try to follow-up with Gerri, though. She’d annoyed the woman enough and was lucky to get the note at all. If Gerri didn’t want to leave her extra information,
then Rita was going to have to just make it work.
When the date finally arrived, Rita was as ready as she could be. She staked out the place in her shifter form, seeing no movement in or out of the house all day. By nightfall, she was convinced that no one lived or worked there at all.
Under cover of dusk, she made her way to the second-floor windows. Big houses that were over two stories tended to get a little sloppy with the locks on anything above the first floor. That wasn’t the case here. She checked every single window, and not a single one of them was unlocked.
In fact, they all had bars on them. There were padlocks on the outside in addition to the regular locks on the inside. She touched one of the locks with her little claws. Even if she were to pick the padlock, she’d still have to deal with the inside locks
What the fuck was wrong with this house?
There had to be something pretty important in there for Gerri to want her to steal from it.
And now Rita’s interest was piqued.
Whatever this was, it was big.
Damn, even if the little pixie-haired woman hadn’t sent her there, she'd want to take a look inside this place anyway.
Rita scaled the wall, checking the third floor. The same deal. Windows locked from the inside and out.
She shivered beneath her gray fur. Fear, curiosity, and adrenaline pushed her forward. There had to be away inside. There was always a way inside.
While she looked, she also plotted her potential escape routes. A woman without an escape route was like a woman tied down to a set of train tracks, and Rita was going to make damn sure she was never hit by that train.
She made use of the gutters to climb the rest of the wall until she made it to the roof. At some of her bigger jobs, security was stationed on the roof, but just as no one had gone in or out the building all day, there had been no movement on the roof. There were times when she had missed things, though, so she made another quick check. Nope, no one was up there.
Rita skittered along the roof, knowing there was always an entrance of some kind. If not a man-made one, then perhaps one made by rats or other animals.
She was in luck. There was an air vent that would work for her.
And there was also a door.
Rita loved choices.
First, she looked for cameras.
There were two of them, and they were both covered by those annoying little tinted domes that prevented her from knowing which direction they were pointed.
That was a special kind of pain in the ass, and it was going to take something of a risk for her to deal with them, but deal with them she would. She wasn't getting into that vent without unscrewing the cover.
To unscrew the cover, she would have to get into her human shape.
To get through the door, she would also have to get into her human shape.
So she needed to deal with the cameras and hope to God they didn't catch sight of her face.
Rita ran beneath one of the cameras, banking on the fact that it likely would not be able to see directly beneath it.
She shifted quickly, shrugging off her little backpack that held her catsuit, mask, gloves, ballet flats, phone, and some small supplies, including her lock picking kit. The bag camouflaged into her fur, and only added a little bulk that would make the casual observer think she was just a bit of a chunky raccoon.
The pack also held a small bottle of paint, necessary for situations just like this.
Rita reached up, high over her head, gently giving three small spritzes of dark blue paint to the dome. Anyone who happened to walk by wouldn't notice it right away, unlike the time she’d experimented with neon pink, thinking that would make for an amazing calling card. She'd learned the hard way that was not the smartest idea in the world.
Neon drew attention to itself; that was the whole point. Sometimes her desire for fun overrode her common sense.
The camera most likely aimed at the door was no longer a problem. So far, so good. Rita got to work on picking the door lock.
She had to be fast. If anyone was monitoring the camera, they’d soon be making their way up to see what was going on.
The other camera was far enough away and not in a clear line of sight, so she didn’t waste any of her precious time with it.
This was why she hated paranoid rich people.
Who the hell needed so many cameras on top of their roof anyway?Despite the cameras and the double-locked windows, Rita could rely heavily on the fact that a lot of rich people got incredibly cheap at the most convenient spots. The door lock being a prime example. She had it open and was inside in just a few seconds.
She gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the near-blue glow and saw that she wasn’t in an attic like you’d expect in a normal house. She was in a cement stairway, one you’d see in a commercial building.
She shivered when the warm air from the night gave way to the cold air conditioning. Much colder than it should be in a home.
She listened but heard nothing. It all gave her an eerie feeling.
Watching Dawn of the Dead last night had been a mistake.
Rita descended the stairs, keeping an eye out for any zombies who might stumble around the corner, spot her, and chase her back up the stairs.
But that was stupid.
Lots of strange things happened in this world; she’d even heard of aliens. But not zombies.
She'd checked.
Having already memorized the layout of the home, Rita knew exactly where the room was and which way she needed to go. As she made her way through, she spotted more annoying little camera domes and spritzed them when she could reach them. If she couldn’t reach them, she didn’t worry about them. There was no point in making a shift so she could get to them.
Sometimes it was best to duck down low and keep moving.
It was strange. The more she explored the house, the more she realized it didn't look much like a house. There was no carpeting, no paintings on the walls. The ceilings had fluorescent lamps illuminating the halls, instead of soft yellow scone lights that would be more appropriate in such a fancy place.
The more she saw, the more downright clinical everything appeared.
It smelled that way, too. It had the weird bleachy-smell that made her think that some evil scientist could be performing experiments there.
And that freaked her out.
Where the hell had Gerri sent her?
She kept going, though. Rita didn’t back out of jobs, especially not because of a little fear. Besides, her interest way outweighed her unease.
Sometimes Rita honestly thought she should have been a cat shifter, based on how curious she was about everything.
Soon enough, she could see the door to her destination — the portal between her and the thing she was supposed to steal.
This door was more difficult to get through. But Rita was prepared for that. In addition to a high-tech lock, which required a little app on her phone to hack it, there was also a fingerprint scanner.
Hoping her tape trick would do the job, she covered her index finger with one of the pieces from her pack and pressed. If she messed this up, then an alarm would likely sound and numerous guns would come her way. She didn't think turning into a raccoon and scuttling off would be enough to save her ass at this point.
The app finished its job, and the lock clicked green. Rita let out her breath when the fingerprint scanner also turned green. The adrenaline high hit her as the door clicked open.
She grinned.
She pushed it opened to a whoosh of air. It sounded like she was entering the airlock of a spaceship. She stepped inside, and instead of seeing gold bars, jewelry, or even tapes that were loaded with all kinds of hideous information that could be used for blackmail, what she saw was…
A robot.
Chapter Two
Dallas was set to sleep mode, but something in the room caused him to stir. With his eyes closed, he heard the door click open, and he felt the pressure change when someone
new entered.
And by new, he meant new to him. This person didn’t have the biometrics of any of his usual keepers.
“Holy shit, it looks so real,” he heard the voice say. “There’s no way… how does she think I’m going to get this out of here?” He debated if he should just ignore her and wait for her to leave, but the mention of getting him was enough for him to boot up his system.
He heard the woman wander around the room, around the table he was strapped to and around the machines he was hooked up to. He heard her opening cabinets and drawers, cursing as she talked to herself about finding something for someone named Gerri.
“Hello?” The voice asked, closer to him now. He could answer, but he wanted to observe first. And then the woman did something unexpected. She touched a finger to his cheek.
“You’re warm, your metal cheek still feels like flesh.”
And then she leaned in…
And sniffed him.
“You even smell alive…”
A small moan escaped Dallas’s throat, and the woman let out a squeak and jumped away from him.
He opened his eyes in time to see her bang into the metal cabinets behind her. He automatically lurched forward, wanting to help her steady herself, but he was still bound to the table.
He caught her looking at the restraints, and he swore he could see relief in her eyes.
Did she think he was going to hurt her?
“Is this a trap?” She asked. “Why would Gerri want me to be strangled to death by a creepy robot?”
He winced at the words she used to describe him. Not only was he not a murderer, but he also wasn’t a creepy robot.
At least, he didn’t want someone to think he was. Especially a woman as pretty as this one.
