To Catch An Omega (Thieves In The Night Book 1)

by Avery Brite

  Thieves In The Night Book #1

  To Catch An Omega

  By

  Avery Brite

  An M/M Mpreg Romance

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination and/or used in a fictitious manner.

  1st Edition

  Copyright © 2018 Avery Brite

  Published by Avery Brite

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Avery Brite

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  {1} – Zenith

  Cold rain pattered my black trench coat as I stood on the street corner. I looked up into the soggy night sky to the top of the apartment building across the street. The Hanover, an apartment building that housed only to those whose income measured in the zeros behind the number, reached forty floors above the street. For years, I had dreamt of being able to walk in, take the elevator all the way to the top, and rob someone blind. Tonight I was finally going to walk in, and take that elevator to the top.

  I adjusted the collar of my coat and pushed the brimmed hat down on my head. The briefcase in my hand bounced against my thigh as I trotted across the busy street. Under the black and gold canopy, a rich light illuminated the armored glass entrance. Glad to be out of the downpour, I shook the rain off my coat and hat. Careful to keep my head slightly down and to the left, I pulled a key card from my pocket and slid it through the blinking card reader next to the glass and metal entrance. I held my breath until the telltale click. It took me days of casual loitering before I could pick enough pockets to get one. Opening the door, I reminded myself to breath. The small foyer looked just like I thought it would. Covering the marble floors lay a rich black and gold carpet, emblazoned with a curly ‘H’. Two elevators sat patiently across from a small desk. At the desk sat a balding security guard, face illuminated by his phone.

  “Evening, Mr. Galloway,” he said looking up at me. I muttered a hello as a pretended to wipe rain off my face. “A cold wet one out there, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I croaked then went into a fake coughing fit, to mask my voice. I pushed the button for the elevator once, resisting the urge to mash it until the doors opened. Apparently, the guard wasn’t a shifter, because he would have scented my coyote ass the moment I stepped in the door. I can guarantee scraggly street coyotes were not invited to live here.

  “Better be careful. It’s easy to get sick in this weather.” I nodded my head as the ding indicated my elevator had arrived. The doors opened, I gave a half-hearted wave to the security guard, and walked in. As soon and the doors shut, I relaxed slightly. I knew that getting past the guard would be a challenge. As long as I could fool him, I would be home free. Almost. I still had the job at hand.

  Being careful to keep my head tilted away from the cameras, I rode the elevator up to the thirty-ninth floor. The hallway I stepped into showed no signs of life. Behind each faux cherry wood door sat some stockbroker or management type who had seriously overextended themselves to live here. I felt no sympathy for them. If I thought they had anything I wanted, I’d be here for them. My ultimate destination resided one more floor up in the apartment of Declan Treadway.

  At the dead middle of the hallway, I stopped and pulled out a key from my pocket. As casual as I would at my own home, I turned the lock and stepped into the dark apartment. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, sighing in relief. With the easy part over, I can get to work. I pulled out my small flashlight and found a light switch. I flicked the light on, but paid little attention to my surroundings. Mr. Galloway didn’t interest me. I only needed his key and his identity to get me this far. His vacation plans in Aruba couldn’t have come at a better time. For me at least.

  He had taken a singles cruise and I wished him luck. Apparently, his lifestyle couldn’t afford him one specific happiness: love. It might be the only thing we had in common. My chosen profession denied made it hard for me to find love too. Being a thief meant a lonely life. Admittedly, I chose this life, so I have no one but myself to blame. Still, sometimes in the dark of night I would love someone’s warm arms to wrap around me and hold me tight. To know someone always had my back, instead of living by my own wits alone.

  Pushing these thoughts away, I threw my coat and hat on a nearby leather couch where they landed with a wet splat. I took the briefcase to tile breakfast counter and popped it open. Inside I took out a small canvas bag connected to a leather handle. Inside were my tools of the trade, few that they were. Unlike most thieves of my caliber, I can use the minimum of toys and reap the maximum reward.

  With tools in hand, I walked directly to the bathroom. I slipped my clothes off, a faded t-shirt and jeans barely keeping together, and stepped up on the toilet. For what this job, clothes would only get in the way. I pushed my medium length black hair out of my face. Directly above, a vent hummed with warm air. Opening it, I put my put the tool bag into my mouth, with a leap I got my torso in, leaving my legs to dangle in the air. The shaft was far too small for me to wiggle my way in, despite my small tight frame, but I had come prepared for that. With a deep breath, I shifted into a coyote and pulled myself in at the same time. The awkward process made me glad that no one could see me, but it worked. Now a coyote, tool bag dangling from my maw, I crawled through the metal ventilation shaft of the Hanover Apartments.

  {2} - Declan

  If I didn’t have work to do, I would have enjoyed the exhibits. I sauntered around the Rumfoord Museum, gazing at this, reading placards for that. They weren’t what I had come for. While early Etruscan pottery did interest me, they couldn’t distract me from what I had really come for. For the last few months, I had come to the opening of every exhibit at the Rumfoord. Always at night, and always alone. For all intents and purposes, I just had an interest in museums and dusty old artifacts under glass.

  My real interest lie in exists, doorways, camera placement, and security measures. Below my feet sat a vault. Of all the wonders in this building, I wanted to see that most of all. But not right now. Now, I just needed to get to know the lay of the land. When the time came, my crew and I would be able break in and get into the vault.

  Turning a corner, I spied my own reflection in a window. My sandy brown hair had been styled perfectly and my immaculate suit remained on point. To these people, I was just some random patron of the arts, mostly here because I had to maintain a social status that obligated me to be. I cultivated an air of rich aloof bachelor with more money than personality. This façade I used to my advantage. The rest of these rich snobs didn’t realize that I could be worth more than any of them at any given time, and generally because I robbed them of it.

  I am the master thief of the city. I’m an alpha, in bed, in life, and when it comes to parting the rich with the ill-gotten gains. I don’t apologize, nor do I discriminate. I live a very comfortable life because of it. In fact, in my apartment, I have a hidden vault of my own that is currently worth more than anyone here would realize. Once I squeezed the buyers a little more, I will have one hell of a payday.

  My ears pricked up as I heard a sound off in the corner. My coyote ears picked up a familiar sort of shuffled step. Coming from behind a gaggle of over-perfumed, and heavily bejeweled, housewives a lanky blonde man emerged. He gave me a cursory glance, and then went to study a collection of broken clay tablets. The women all stared at him, and I don’t blame them. Despite is pale pallor; he
was something to look at. I harbored different thoughts for him than they did. Tanner was part of my crew and on the same mission I did tonight, reconnaissance. The last member of my crew, Cody, stayed home tonight, digging through schematics and rewiring a slew of handmade electronics. Tanner and Cody were the best in the business and we made sure business was good. We made a strange but effective crew, all shifters: Tanner an owl shifter, Cody a cougar, and me a coyote shifter.

  As I walked by the heavily scented women, their attention turned to me. I gave them all a wide smile, almost an invitation. A few turned red. I couldn’t help myself. I know I looked damn good, but they didn’t hold my interest. A quick fling didn’t satisfy anymore. I had come to terms with the idea that I would either find a true companion, or stay alone. Alone didn’t seem so bad as long as I kept myself busy. And this job kept me plenty busy.

  Casually I wandered through a less populated part of the exhibit to a side entrance. I slipped out into the night. Rain danced loudly on the awning above me. The cool night, despite the dampness, felt good compared to the stuffy recycled air inside. Normally I enjoyed rainy nights like this, but tonight it put a crimp in my plans.

  I wanted to come out here, shift into my coyote form and do some more recon around the backside of the building. I couldn’t as a human, but as a coyote, any security would just think I was a stray dog wandering around. I didn’t want to do in the rain. Shifting back to human, I would still be soaking wet, and that would be suspicious.

  Sighing, I went back in. Tanner had found a museum employee to chat up. He had all the usual social graces of most hackers, meaning none, but somehow that worked towards his charm. He could use it to glean information out of people without them realizing it. I had taught him how to harness it. As our resident hacker, I needed him to get whatever information necessary to crack any system we would encounter.

  As I passed by him, he gave me a quick glance. I tilted my head towards the main entrance, indicating that I decided to leave. I couldn’t get all that I needed tonight, so I saw no point in hanging around anymore. I gave my ticket to the valet so they could come around with my Mercedes.

  {3} – Zenith

  Still a coyote, I clambered from the vent into darkness. I worried that my calculations were off, but they couldn’t be. As my eyes adjusted, I realized that my mark just liked to keep his place dark. Meaning he had valuables that he didn’t want people to see.

  Shifting back to human, I pulled a small penlight out of my bag. I clicked it on and smiled. Right on target. I had come out in the back corner of a spacious kitchen. I opened a small metal door next to me, revealing the circuit breaker. Unscrewing the panel that held the switches, I pulled it out to get to a small octopus of a box with blinking red and green lights. With two snips, whatever alarms and cameras the owner had in place were now useless. Breathing a little easier, I stood up, flicked on the light switch, and began shopping.

  Planning this job to break into Declan Treadway’s apartment, took more time than I usually take but I heard a rumors that Mr. Treadway had quite a collection of rare and expensive items. Some of which might be a little south of legal. Needing little reason to break into the smarmy Hanover Apartments, the idea of rummaging through Treadway’s collection seemed like the best reason to do it. I knew these types: stuffy trust fund babies that go on to prestigious careers, set up by their rich daddies, and then go around spending money as if it means nothing to them. For me, on the other hand, money meant quite a lot. I grew up with nothing. Seeing these rich shitheels flaunting their wealth all my life, I felt no remorse helping myself to whatever I can get my hands on.

  I also felt no remorse working in the nude. It helped for quick shifts, if need be, but also gave me a little thrill. A nude omega in someone’s precious home; who knows what I’ve touched, and what I’ve touched it with. I kept my slim toned body hairless, but it wouldn’t matter much. Neither fingerprints, nor DNA would be on any database. I’ve been careful to stay as invisible as possible, invisible and alone.

  Judging by the kitchen, Declan Treadway enjoyed cooking. Expensive pots and pans, hung above a kitchen island that would make any chef drool. Every gadget and utensil imaginable sat in neat and organized fashion around the wood and tile kitchen. I might check out his wine selection on the way out, but right now, this room held little interest to me. Treadway had a habit of visiting museum openings, usually out quite late with it. With a new exhibit at the Rumfoord opening tonight, I could take my time to look around, but not too much time.

  Exiting the kitchen, I walked into the rest of the apartment. Even in the dim light coming from the kitchen, the open floor plan revealed that I might have hit a mother lode. Expensive art, glass topped podiums, and antique tables were tastefully placed around. Each one was just a price tag to me. I eyed the art, shining my light up on them, but left them alone. Art could be a tricky fence and I wanted a quick payday on this job. In the glass top podiums, I saw the usual ‘rich guy’ kitsch; dusty old figurines dug up from some desert, baubles from a long gone empire, even a few pieces of overpriced plastic modern sculpture. I could make a few bucks off this, but I knew that there were better things to be had.

  I went into the bedroom and it glowed from its amazing view of the city. The bed looked inviting and massive and one entire wall was nothing but dresser and closet. Definitely an alpha’s bedroom. I opened a closet door to a collection of silk suits. I fingered the fabric and smiled. Treadway must be quite a big man, given the size of his suits and I liked my men big. I rummaged through his dressers, seeing nothing more than clothes. I pulled an expensive white t-shirt and pair of grey jeans and threw them on the bed. Once I finished here, I’d throw on the clothes, that way I could just walk back down to Galloway’s apartment with my loot, instead of trying to cram it down the ventilation shaft again.

  Studying the room, I realized that the dimensions were off. Given the size of the apartment versus the bedroom, there seemed to be some space missing. That could only mean one thing: secret closet. Instead of fumbling along blindly, hoping to come across a switch or secret handle, I thought about the type of man this Declan might be. If he had something to hide, he’d make the way into his closet so hidden that no one could possibly find it. That meant it had to be in plain sight.

  “Where would I put a switch for a secret closet?” I asked myself. Testing a theory, walked over to the bed and opened the nightstand drawer. It had what I expected to find, an old watch, some coins, a loaded revolver, a large tube of lube, and half crumpled receipts. The bottom drawer contained a dildo and pocket pussy, both of such prodigious size that I felt my cock twitch. Declan Treadway might be someone to wait around and meet. At the back of the drawer, I felt a button. Jackpot! I pushed it and a panel clicked open to my left.

  “Let’s see what you really find valuable,” I slide open the panel and a light automatically came on. “Holy shit!” I exclaimed. This is more than some overpaid pretty boy with boring displays of wealth. Inside is a thief’s equivalent to wonderland. Cases of jewelry, most of which could pay the national debt some small countries, art rolled and labeled in tubes, two safes, unmistakably filled with cash, and three shelves of artifacts so rare they're considered fabled.

  I almost didn’t know what to grab first. Opening the jewelry case, I took a necklace, all diamonds and emeralds, and ran it between my fingers. Just before putting it in my bag, I studied it again. This piece had been previously stolen. I know this necklace. Two months ago, a downtown museum had an exhibit of antique jewelry. Of course, I made plans to get at it, but someone had beaten me to it. They nearly wiped out the entire exhibit.

  Examining the rest, I recognized everything as stolen. A realization dawned on me and I sprang into action, filling by bag with jewelry as fast as I could. This was not the home of a boring executive, but a master thief. I needed to get out of here quick and this was not a safe place to be. My ear twitched, my coyote catching the sound before I did. I stopped and waited. I hear
d nothing more so I continued looting.

  “Normally I love seeing a naked omega in my apartment,” a deep voice said from the doorway, “but not this time.” I jumped and turned. A tall and built man filled the doorway. His bright hazel eyes locked with mine. At that moment, I knew two things: Declan Treadway was possibly the hottest man I’d ever seen and I wouldn’t live long enough to appreciate it.

  {4} – Declan

  “I am impressed,” I said as I stood over him, “I didn’t think anyone could get in here. My alarm system is better than most banks, yet you managed to disable it. My hat is off to you. The problem I have now is what to do with you.”

  The moment I stepped up to my own front door, I know something was wrong. As absurd as the notion seemed, there might be someone in my apartment. Carefully I unlocked and opened the door. I sniffed the air and confirmed it. Someone had broken in and that someone had to be another shifter, possibly a coyote like myself.

  Nothing in the living room had been touched so that meant the perpetrator would be rummaging around in my bedroom. I had years of stealth that allowed me to walk unnoticed. Seeing the door to my secret vault open surprised me and I knew the person who had broken in had to be at a skill level nearly at my own.

  I didn’t bother with a weapon; I could be just as formidable with my bare hands. If all else failed, I could even lock them in the vault. With no way in, no way out, sound proof, and air tight, I could just close the door and wait them out. I peeked in at my burglar and stopped dead in my tracks. Rummaging through my most expensive gains stood the last thing I expected; a naked omega.

  My heart did a small leap and all I wanted to do was run my hands up and down his body. Instead of throwing him out, I wanted to throw him on the bed and have my way with him. His black hair hung down, nearly to his shoulders, his body thin and taut, moved with grace. His skin, pale, yet dusky, made my fingers ache to touch it. All this I pushed away; business had to come first. As unexpectedly desirable as he might be, he still had broken in to my home.