The Siren Job (Stolen Hearts Crew Book 1)

by Katya Moore

  “He could have hurt me!” My voice went up a notch. One of the pitch guys glanced over his shoulder. I bit my lip and took a deep breath to steady myself. “Dude was psycho. If security hadn’t…”

  Luxe gave me a rueful grin. “We did do enough research to see that you were a cool, competent, and confident individual who takes no shit. We knew you’d hit that security button the moment Fanboy lost his mind.” The grin broadened. “Feral and I had bets on whether you’d take him out before security got there.”

  “Who won?” I asked dryly.

  “I could have sworn you’d have a strong backhand for him.” He looked disappointed.

  “My apologies. He was my coworker.”

  “Ah, professionalism. Hadn’t counted on that.” The sparkle was back in his eyes. It was very hard to stay mad. But I managed.

  “So, you thought you’d gotten rid of both of us…”

  “And five security guards. It was a solid plan.” Luxe’s thumb traced against the back of my hand again. It felt good. Too good. “I scream about the stolen gown, send the rest of security on a wild goose chase and draw Glory out to the scene of the crime. Cory slips in to steal the scroll. I faint, and my assistants take me home. No muss, plenty of fuss, we get the scroll, and no one winds up floating on a cloud of evil magic.” He raised my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. “We didn’t count on them putting Glory’s meeting ahead of the security situation. And I am so very sorry.”

  My mouth was dry. I tried to form words, but none came. I was lost in that sparkling sea of blue, in the gentle caress, in the contact that my body craved even as my brain screamed for control.

  “W…who are you? Really?” I breathed at last.

  That mischievous smile was back. “A man of many names. A ghost.”

  I arched my brow again.

  He laughed. “A grifter.”

  The brow went higher.

  He sighed. “A con artist. Emphasis on ‘artist.’ Name’s Luxe. It’s an honor and a privilege to meet you.” His lips brushed the back of my hand again.

  I came to my senses and snatched my hands back. “I don’t do liars.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed, a sad smile on his face. “I only lie at work. I don’t lie to the people I work with, and I don’t lie to friends.”

  I tensed my jaw. “And where do you think I fall in there? I was part of your last job, wasn’t I?”

  His fingers curled closed on the table. “I lied to a lot of people at that mansion, but never to you.”

  I crossed my arms. “And that act in the hallway? The shameless, cheesy flirting? That wasn’t some sort of distraction?”

  The sad smile turned rueful, and I could have sworn I saw the faintest hint of a blush. “No. No distraction but my own.” He gave a short laugh. “Man, did I get chewed out for that one.”

  I felt my eyes widen at that. “Wait…you got in trouble for…that?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. A little.” He winked. “Totally worth it.”

  A flush creeped up my neck into my cheeks. I took a sip of my water to cool off. It didn’t work.

  “Why? You didn’t even know me. Had you even seen me before…?”

  That twinkle. That mischief. It hit me in all the right places.

  “I saw you.” He leaned in. Unconsciously, I leaned in too. “Every morning, about eleven o’clock, you grab coffee from the break room. And every morning, I made damned sure that there was something on the north end of the mansion that desperately needed fetching. Because one day, before we pulled that job, I was going to talk to you.”

  I laughed in disbelief. “Isn’t ‘con man’ short for ‘confidence man?’ You couldn’t just ask me for my number?”

  He looked down at his hands and gave a self-conscious laugh. “You’d think it’d be easier for me. But I had a job to do, and I couldn’t risk blowing my cover.”

  I thought back to his breezy, cheesy flirtation, to him pinning me against that wall. A shiver ran through me. “So, why did you?”

  The sparkle turned to sparks. His eyes gazed straight to my soul. “Because I couldn’t live with myself if I hadn’t tried. Just once.” His smile warmed every fiber of my being. “Even if the closest I ever got to you was a terrible pick-up line, at least I got close to you once.”

  “Oh.” Breathing was hard. Thinking was impossible. Our faces were closer than I realized. My head was tilting of its own accord. The tip of his nose brushed mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. My eyes closed.

  “Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”

  Cockblocking motherfucking gonna murder you in your sleep…

  I turned my head to face the intruder. “We’d like a few more minutes, please,” I said in my most civil voice.

  “Of course.” The chirpy little brunette waitress bounced off, tittering to herself.

  “I’m tipping her with a wad of gum,” Luxe growled as he sat back in his seat.

  I took a few long, slow, deep breaths and tried very hard to remember who I was just trying to make out with. I’m a grifter. A con artist. He’d told me, to my face, without remorse. And I was about to put my mouth all over his.

  What the actual fuck, Alex?

  “So, we’re here for a reason,” I said, an edge creeping into my voice.

  Luxe folded his hands again, as though restraining them from reaching for me. “Right. You want payback. And we want to talk to you about what she did to you. We can help each other, Alexan…”

  “Alex.”

  His seductive smile returned. “Alex. Care to come back to my place, Alex?”

  My brow crept upward once more.

  His eyes twinkled. “To talk to the others.” He leaned in slightly. “Though, I do still have those silk sheets.”

  I snorted loudly, then covered my mouth, embarrassed. “I… um… yeah. Let’s go talk.” I raised a finger. “Just talk.”

  “But of course.”

  Chapter Ten

  “This isn’t where you brought me before.”

  Luxe opened the door of the convertible for me. I straightened my wig and stepped out warily. I’d let him drive me to North Westwood Village, near UCLA. The streets teemed with young people, most of them wearing Greek letters in various combinations. I could smell stale beer and poor decisions on the breeze.

  I spat out a strand of fake hair. “What’s here?”

  Luxe gestured broadly at a large white two-story house with large windows and twin pillars on either side of the door. It was nicer than the sororities that shared the block, but had the same multi-occupant feel.

  “You brought me back to your dorm?” I smirked. “Phi Beta Stealstuff?”

  He laughed out loud. “Something like that. Come on in.” He led me to the door and punched in a long combination of numbers on a keypad. He held the door for me. I stood there for a moment.

  This is it. The leap down the rabbit hole. I walk in here, and I throw in with actual real-live criminals.

  Not like I have a lot of options right now.

  Technically, I’m on the run from the law myself.

  I looked at Luxe’s friendly, beaming face.

  Fuuuuck.

  I walked through the door.

  “What the fuck is she doing here?” Anger mixed with alarm in Cory’s voice. He flung his phone aside and leaped off the arm of the sofa in the middle of the room, striding toward us menacingly. The black wings he’d traced over his cheekbones gave him the look of a scrawny pale tribal warrior. He jabbed a finger at Luxe. “Are you high? You were supposed to bring her to the office.”

  Luxe stepped between me and Cory protectively. “She has nowhere to go, Corvus. Glory’s put out a hit on her.”

  “Not. Our. Problem.” Cory poked his finger into Luxe’s chest to punctuate each word. “She’s a citizen. She’ll crack in a second if anyone questions her about us, and now we have to find a new house. I just got situated.” He narrowed his ostentatiously lined eyes at me. “I
hate packing.”

  “I’ve never known a thief who ran with as much shit as you do,” Luxe said, trying to jolly his way out of Cory’s ire.

  Cory looked spectacularly unamused. “You’re a bullshit artist. You travel light. My work takes equipment. And talent.”

  “What’s the situation?” A door opened at the back of the room. Feral filled the frame, eyes dark, fists flexed. He took the three of us in, then huffed under his breath. “Oh. Dammit, Luxe. Roc said…”

  “Look, if it’s going to be a huge problem, I can just…” I started to back toward the door.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Cory hissed at me. “Not until I’ve gotten a head start.”

  “No one’s going anywhere.” A voice from the stairs rang out across the room. Everyone shut up and looked up at Amarok. He leaned wearily on a wrought iron railing and studied me. “Nice getup, Martin, if a bit corporate. You’re going to need something collegiate for this neighborhood. I’ll see what I can scrape up for you.”

  “But she’s…” Cory began to protest.

  “We got sloppy, Corvus. And she’s taking the fall.” Amarok straightened up. “Put her in the empty room.”

  My heart threatened to pound out of my chest. I took another couple steps back toward the door, reaching for the knob. “You’re not locking me up in here!”

  Amarok’s eyes widened slightly. He reached out both hands in a placating gesture. “Wait. No. Alexandria, I meant that’s where you can sleep. It’s an empty bedroom. You’re safe with us. Not a prisoner.”

  My fingers brushed the cold brass of the knob.

  Last chance to run.

  I let my hand drop.

  “Welcome to The Dorm,” Amarok said. “You hungry?”

  My stomach grumbled loudly at the mere suggestion. I slapped a hand over it, mortified.

  Luxe reached back and caught my free hand in his. “C’mon. Feral’s making my favorite. I’m sure there’s plenty.”

  “Pull up a chair.” Feral’s voice was as deep and commanding as I expected it to be. I sat down quickly. The chairs were plastic and steel, the table something out of a college cafeteria. Luxe pulled up a chair next to me, lounging back in it with his arms folded behind his head. Feral stirred a large stock pot with a wooden spoon, his back to us.

  Luxe sniffed the air. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked delightedly.

  Feral chuckled. “Yeah. Made it just for you, bro.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You’re the only one in the world who’d request it.”

  I took a sniff myself. “Smells like mac and cheese.”

  Luxe closed his eyes and made little happy noises. “Tell me it’s store-brand.”

  “Yeah, you freak. It’s store-brand. Just like Mom used to make.” Feral peered into the pot, nodded to himself in satisfaction, then reached for a ladle and a stack of bowls. “You in, Ms. Martin?”

  “Alex. And I’d love some, thank you.” He set the bowl of neon-yellow noodles in front of me and set a fork beside it.

  “Alex,” Feral said with a bare hint of a smile. “Good to meet you. Sorry about the circumstances. Again.”

  “Yeah.” I stirred my noodles idly as he passed a bowl to Luxe. Luxe wasted no time in digging into his meal, making yummy sounds the entire time. I stared at him for a moment, then started to laugh.

  “Hmm?” Luxe cocked a brow at me, mouth full of mac and cheese.

  “I just never figured Andres, the god-king of Mother Glory’s wardrobe, for a junk food junkie.” I took a forkful myself. Salty, cheesy, the flavor of childhood.

  “Junk food?” Luxe swallowed and fixed me with a shocked look. “This is the stuff of life!”

  Feral rolled his eyes and set down bowls of peas in front of me and Luxe. “You need more vegetables in your life, you ham. You’re gonna get scurvy eating like this.”

  “Okay, okay.” Luxe poked at his bowl warily. “You know I hate peas,” he sulked.

  “Whatever, man. Eat your dinner before it gets cold.” Feral set down his food across from us and sat heavily. “I’m not your short-order cook.”

  Luxe took a forkful of peas obligingly. “You really do sound like Mom.”

  The corner of Feral’s mouth twitched. “Someone’s gotta take care of you. You sure as hell don’t. Did you even eat lunch?”

  “I had coffee. And a croissant.” Luxe winked at me. “See, I eat croissants. More in line with what you had in mind?”

  I felt my cheeks heat up. “Well, yeah, admittedly. I just figured you more for the fine-dining type.”

  Feral almost choked. “Him? Fine dining? He’d eat hot dogs and frozen chicken nuggets for every meal if I didn’t make him eat a salad now and then. He only eats well if he’s on the job.”

  Luxe polished off his noodles with gusto. “And with Andres behind me, if I never see another whole-wheat cranberry tofu quinoa wrap in my life, it’ll be too soon.”

  Feral pointed his fork at Luxe. “You need to eat better, man. Just because we had to eat this stuff when we were kids doesn’t mean we have to eat it now. Expand your horizons, not your waistline.”

  “I’m not going keto with you, Fer. You’ll pry my sugar from my cold, dead hands.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  I studied the two of them as they bickered. I couldn’t see a family resemblance. No shared nose, no common brow, and Luxe was as light as Feral was dark.

  Feral caught me looking. “He’s ridiculous, I know. But he’s family. Maybe not blood, but family nonetheless.”

  I cocked my head. “Does that go for all of you? Corvus and Amarok and…”

  Luxe shook his head. “No. Feral and I grew up together. He’s a special pain in the ass.”

  “Oh shut up.” Feral laughed. “You’d be dead ten times over without me.”

  Luxe bumped Feral’s hand with his fist. “Yeah, yeah.”

  There was something sweet about them. Sweet and hot. My mind wandered over Feral’s muscular arms and Luxe’s relaxed, easy smile. The word sandwich came to mind. It’s not like they’re actually related…

  Thieves, Alex. They are actually thieves. Not hot. Not sandwich makings. Bad.

  Naughty.

  Very naughty.

  I took a mouthful of peas. Peas aren’t sexy. Probably the least sexy vegetable. Except maybe Brussels sprouts. I pushed the tingling sensation back and focused on vegetable-related thoughts.

  Amarok opened the kitchen door and stuck his head in. “Finish up and meet me in the living room. The client called. We have a job.” He met my curious gaze. “It pertains to you as well. Welcome to the crew.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The living room was a spacious affair, with three overstuffed couches and a couple of armchairs, all mismatched, all bearing the cigarette burns and mystery stains of parties past. I had a feeling that The Dorm had come to the crew pre-furnished.

  Cory perched like a gargoyle on the arm of one of the overstuffed chairs, looming over us. He glared at me as I walked in with Luxe and Feral. I ignored him and took a seat on the center couch. Luxe and Feral sat on either side of me.

  Kit sat cross-legged on the couch to my left, taking up most of the cushions with a pair of laptops and assorted bits of technology that I didn’t recognize. He looked up from his work to greet me, his grin fading as he saw the coldness in my eyes.

  “Toby,” I said in acknowledgment.

  He looked down at his laptop with a hangdog expression. “You’re gonna hold that against me for a long time, aren’t you?”

  “You framed me with that exploding computer. Thanks to you, I’ve got the cops and the Thousand Fucking Young on my ass. Yes, I do believe I will hold it against you.” Bitch Face Setting: Kill.

  “That was not my intent, but I see why you see it that way,” Kit said.

  My eyes could have withered crops. My jaw was tense enough to hurt. I folded my arms and unleashed a stony silence at him.

  He backpedaled slightly. “I mean, I’m
sorry. I really am. My goal was to blow up one machine in that room. I couldn’t do Raul’s, because he would have taken off early and we needed him. I wanted to do the purple demon’s…”

  “Her name is Trixie, and she’s my best friend,” I said, ice dripping off every word.

  Kit rubbed the back of his neck. “Jesus, I’m just digging myself deeper,” he muttered to himself. “What I’m trying to say is, your computer crashed first. It was all a matter of timing. It wasn’t malicious. Well, not malicious to you. It was pretty malicious to Glory.”

  “I’m just collateral damage, then.”

  “Yes!” he said, his face brightening for a moment before he saw my eyes darken. “Yes. And I’m sorry. We’re all sorry.”

  I looked up at Cory. He did not look sorry. He looked ready to pop some popcorn and watch me eviscerate Kit.

  “Ignore him. He’s a bastard. The rest of us are very sorry,” Kit assured me.

  Luxe slipped an arm over the back of the couch behind me. “We are, you know.”

  Feral grunted. “Yeah. We fucked up. We should’ve found a way to block you from that meeting.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t let me try my plan for that,” Luxe huffed.

  Feral rolled his eyes.

  “What was your plan?” I asked.

  Luxe became very interested in the condition of his fingernails.

  I turned to Feral. “What was his plan?”

  A twist of a grin. “C’mon, Luxe. Tell her your awesome plan.”

  “Iwzgnnaseduceyou,” Luxe muttered.

  My heart dropped into my stomach. Warmth pooled between my legs. I crossed them, trying to ignore the sensation. “Beg pardon?”

  Luxe looked to the heavens. “I was going to seduce you. There. Happy?”

  My dignity did fierce battle with my surging hormones. “Thrilled.” I tried to sound all disapproving-teacher, but it came out a lot more disappointed than I wanted to admit.