I had argued with Colette about the word ‘nightcap.’ I said it sounded like a Nick and Nora Charles movie from the 1940s, and after a look that clearly told me she thought I was a whackjob for my black-and-white movie reference, she said it was classy and sounded rich. It also indicated my wish to return the same night rather than at some later date. That was a point I could give her.
His smile didn’t change, but he studied me as if I’d surprised him. I didn’t like the scrutiny, because even though Colette and I are genetically identical, twenty-eight years of life and ten years spent mostly apart had changed a couple of things in our faces, so I turned and slid past him.
“It’s okay, I know you’re probably busy,” I said as I started toward the back stairs.
He grabbed my arm a little too tightly, which he must have realized because he let his hand slide down to take my hand. “I’d love to see you tonight, Colette. Can you come back after midnight? Say, one o’clock?”
I darted a quick look at him, just to make sure he was serious. Colette had told me to walk away if he hesitated even a moment, and I was stunned to see she was right. He was one of those guys who only wanted things if he thought they were hard to get. Probably inherited the trait from his father who had our mother’s stolen painting hanging in his panic room.
“I’ll be noticed if I stand outside your front door at one o’clock in the morning.” He might as well hang a flashing neon sign on my back that said booty call.
“Come through the kitchen door, by the garage. I’ll open it for you.”
I tried to keep the excitement out of my voice. He couldn’t have been more perfect unless he’d handed me a key and the alarm code. “Are you sure?” I asked. “I mean I wouldn’t want someone to think I was breaking in and accidentally shoot me.” I was fishing.
He kept my hand in his and escorted me down the hall to the main staircase. “I pay my security team very well to keep me safe. An unlocked door isn’t going to compromise that.”
Hmm. That comment was vague enough to make me uneasy. “You have guards?”
“I have alarms and cameras. If I’m not in the kitchen when you come in tonight, you can find me on the third floor.”
“What’s on the third floor?” I asked innocently, though I knew the answer well enough from the floorplans.
Sterling Gray turned to face me and brought my hand up to his mouth to kiss my knuckles. “The master suite.”
4
Darius
“The best princesses are made of chaos and fairy dust, and they carry their own swords.”
From the T-shirt collection of Anna Collins
Gray came into the room looking satisfied and smug. His eyes found me, and he jerked his head sharply. “Is everything working properly?”
“It is. I’ve double-checked the locations of every alarm and camera in the house. The system is set to arm automatically at midnight and disarm at six a.m. unless you do a manual override. In that case you’ll have to reset manually as well,” I said as we walked.
“Set the system to manual before you leave tonight. I have a guest coming after everyone’s gone.”
Gray smirked, and I glanced at the back stairs. The young woman was named Colette Collins, according to Marcel. Gray arched an eyebrow at the direction of my gaze. “She was my architect’s girlfriend. It didn’t seem quite politic at the time, but now that the house is done, well …” He let the thought dangle as though stealing a girlfriend was just another day for him.
And yet, I still didn’t see it. The woman in question was far too … unbridled for him. The word sounded strange, even to my own mind, but it was too easy to picture Sterling Gray as a man who insisted on reins. That thought led to analogies of stables and riding, and the strength of my reaction to the idea of them together was disturbing. This woman was irrepressible. She would not submit to Gray easily, and the thought of her doing so offended me.
“You’ll need to reset the system from one of the panels yourself, then. The cameras will still record throughout the house, of course, but no alarms will sound.” I sounded disinterested and professional to my own ears, but perhaps Gray had picked up the tone of my thoughts, because he snapped defensively.
“As long as the alarms you installed for the artwork frames work. You have nothing to worry about unless your system fails.”
I bristled at the arrogance in his tone, the result of which was impeccable politeness on my part.
“I’ll leave you to your evening, Mr. Gray, as you seem to have no further need of my company’s services tonight.”
I inclined my head very slightly and turned to walk away. Gray called after me in a voice I was sure he meant to be friendly. “Tell Quinn Sullivan my father will see him on the links next time he’s in town.”
I didn’t respond, and my eyes searched the room for Ms. Collins automatically. She was nowhere in sight, though I supposed that if Gray wanted the security system turned off for her to return later, she could already be gone.
In fact, she stood just outside the front door waiting for her car when I’d finished with the alarm. She was visible to me through the leaded glass panes, and she appeared to shimmer under the lights. It was an appropriate description of her, and explained much more than her appearance.
“You’re leaving so soon, Mr. Masoud?” the butler asked, as he retrieved my topcoat from the closet and handed it to me.
“It was nice to see you again, Marcel.” I gave him a quick handshake and opened the door just as a dark sedan pulled into the circular driveway and the shimmery woman slid into the back seat.
She looked up at me through the window, and the surprise on her face seemed disproportionate to my sudden appearance. I smiled at her and raised my hand to wave, which may have startled me as much as it did her. She raised her eyebrows and then laughed as she gave me an exaggerated parade wave as the car drove away.
I chuckled to myself. “What a remarkably strange young woman.”
“Remarkably lovely, I’d say,” said Marcel from just behind me. He held the door for an older couple who were preoccupied on their cell phones and ignored both of us.
“What do you know about her?” I asked in a quiet voice as the couple swept past me to the valet.
“She seemed different tonight from the other times I’ve seen her, but maybe that was just because she came alone and may have been nervous. She’s always kind and takes a moment to say hello, but I’ve never had much reason to speak to her otherwise.”
“Gray said she dates his architect?” I said, and then immediately wanted to recall the words. I didn’t actually want to know, because who Ms. Collins dated was absolutely none of my business.
“I suppose so, though I can’t rightly say. She and Mr. MacGregor seemed friendly enough, but Ms. Collins was always a little bit removed. Maybe that’s the difference. She was friendlier tonight. She looked me in the eye and thanked me when she said good night. There aren’t many besides yourself who see me as more than the doorstop,” Marcel said, with the slightest glance at the older couple now stepping into the back of a chauffeur-driven Mercedes.
I deliberately wiped the image of Ms. Collins out of my mind and threw Marcel a wave as I started toward the street where I’d left my old Land Cruiser parked under a streetlight. “Have a good night, my friend.”
“You too, Mr. Masoud,” he called after me. “I’ll see you again soon.”
“Very likely,” I said under my breath as I walked, thinking about Sterling Gray and his penchant for prioritizing sex over a properly armed security system.
5
Anna
“Adrenaline is nature’s way of telling you life’s about to get pretty interesting.”
Anna Collins
The Disney prince had waved to me. He waved. And smiled.
The thought was a drumbeat in my head as I climbed the trellis the builders had so thoughtfully anchored to the side of the Gray mansion.
He waved. He smiled. At me.
Perseveration was most useful for mindless tasks like climbing and running. My problem was that I kept wincing after the ‘at me’ part, because he didn’t wave and smile at me, the house-breaking, diarrhea-mouthed, engineer boot-wearing bounty hunter named Anna. He smiled and waved at pink dress, lip-slick wearing, girly-girl interior designer Colette.
Colette, who would be at the kitchen door in ten minutes.
Drumbeats and winces got me to the roof of the garage fairly easily; it was the jump from there to the tiny Juliet balcony off the second floor hallway that would require my rogue skills.
The character I’d made up for lunchtime D&D games when I was fourteen was a human rogue named Honor. At the time, I’d thought I was being clever and ironic, as fourteen-year-old invisible girls must be to be relevant when they have beautiful sisters, because Honor was a thief who roved with rogues and brigands and was therefore Honor among thieves.
I know, right?
Oddly, my character grew into her name. Her comrades could always count on her caper-planning skills, her moral code, and her fearlessness in the face of danger. She had taught them all a thieves cant so they could speak in code, and she seemed to excel at Robin Hood missions involving stealing from the rich to give to the poor. I wanted to be like Honor in real life, so I learned to climb and jump like she could – starting with the monkey bars, quickly moving to rock walls, and eventually free-climbing the ‘easy’ part of El Capitan on a trip to California after college. I’d stayed in climbing shape by scaling the back wall of any building I lived in, and from my current home I could do exactly three roof-jumps before I’d be stuck and have to climb back down the fire escapes of nearby buildings. Climbing was a useful skill for my bounty hunting work, and was the primary component of this breaking and entering plan.
Two minutes to go. I lined up my jump and then backed up the length of the pitched roof. The top was wider than a balance beam and put me high enough so that I’d reach the balcony rails on the top of my arc if I got enough speed.
Collette’s taxi arrived and dropped her off out of my sight. I could hear her come around the back of the house though, and I checked my watch. Exactly one in the morning. Punctuality was one of the few identical things about us besides our genetic code, and I blew a kiss into the breeze for her.
I inhaled and let the drumbeat start again. He waved. He smiled. At me. I pumped my arms and pushed off hard at the end of the roof. He waved. He smiled. At meeeeeeee.
I flew the brief distance between buildings and grabbed at the Juliet balcony railing, gripping it with all the strength in my rock climbing fingers. My heartbeat hammered in my chest, and the drum in my head silenced as I listened for the sound of Colette’s knock on the back door. There—
The murmur of quiet voices drifted up from below as my arms quivered with the tension of holding my body utterly still. The moment the door closed beneath me, I dragged myself over the railing onto the balcony.
I paused for the barest moment to catch my breath before I opened the glass-paned door that I had unlocked earlier, and then stepped inside the second floor hallway. I slid the locks home just as an electronic voice announced that the alarm system had been armed.
I sighed, knowing it had been too much to hope that Sterling would leave the house un-alarmed while Colette was there. It meant I would have to stay until she left.
There was a reason I didn’t have long, heavy drapes in my studio. Two reasons, actually. First, they’re fricking expensive, and the designer kind that perfectly matched a slipper chair or the headboard were the approximate cost of my first car. But more importantly, creatures could disappear behind them, and I had spent far too many sleepless nights hiding my neck from the vampires that lurked in my grandmother’s curtains.
Happily, the Gray mansion had the perfectly designed floor-length heavy drapes that matched the antique gilt chairs on either side of the naked ballerina. I slipped behind one and twitched it closed around me. The hallway was lit by dim wall sconces, and I was wearing my stealthiest skin-tight, all-black house-breaker clothes, including a black balaclava to cover my face and hair that I counted on to make me anonymous in case the cameras actually were transmitting.
Voices drifted up the staircase as Sterling and my sister climbed, and I calmed my heartbeat to something I could eavesdrop over.
“I love what your decorator has done with the house, Sterling. She has excellent taste.” Colette managed to climb stairs and purr at the same time.
I was reminded of the cat I’d met earlier, which must have conjured him, because suddenly he was there, winding himself around my ankles with an even louder purr than Colette’s.
Oh no.
“I have excellent taste. She has connections,” Sterling answered with a degree of confidence that sounded smug to my ears.
The cat kept swirling around my ankles, making the curtain move alarmingly. Sterling and Colette had just reached the landing, and I sincerely hoped the naked ballerina would distract them from the ghost curtain.
Apparently she didn’t dance down the hall for them, which sucked for them, and sucked for me, because Sterling’s footsteps stopped.
“What the …?”
“Reow,” I called out in my best imitation of feline distress. It was all I could do, and my muscles twitched in anticipation of the fight or flight I was about to engage in. Everyone froze – Sterling, my sister, and the cat.
Sterling took a cautious step toward my curtain, and I nudged the cat with my toe. It darted out with a hiss of pure feline annoyance.
“Aaahh!” he yelled, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.
Colette didn’t have my self-control, which was ironic in the extreme, and I almost threw something at her. She had the most contagious laughter of anyone I’d ever met; it was pure torture to anyone attempting stealth mode. Happily for me, it only took a few seconds for Sterling to join her. I was shocked to see that the man was actually laughing at himself.
“Come here, baby.” Colette knelt down and cooed the cat into her arms. He purred with the approximate volume of an outboard motor, which was apparently the fate of all male creatures who ended up in my sister’s arms.
She moved off down the hall in front of Sterling. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this beautiful—”
Pussy, my mind supplied.
“—cat,” she finished with the barest pause, as though she knew exactly what I would not have been able to resist saying. Apparently Sterling had the same thought in his head, because I could hear the snicker in his voice as they walked away.
“I’ve never been able to resist … cats.”
I rolled my eyes and sent my sister invisible hearts for distracting the guy with his own imagination. Also, for taking the cat with her.
When they had turned to go up to the third level, I pulled the first mini spotlight out of my pocket and slid it down the hall so it was approximately in front of the first camera. I hit the remote, and it flared to life. Then I eased myself out from behind the curtain and slunk along the opposite wall until I was in range of the second camera. I did the same thing with mini spotlight number two, then made my way down to the bookcase where I slid a third spotlight just across from it. When that one illuminated, I reached up, tugged on Moby’s Dick, and was inside the room within seconds.
I said hello to Aunt Alexandra and my mom in their painting, but I started at the computer first. A standard video feed array showed a small window for every camera in and on the house. I studied the various feeds and isolated the ones that would have captured my entrance into the mansion. Cameras 14, 15, and 17 would have caught me, but the mini spotlights glared so fiercely that the shadows were nearly black in comparison. None of the other cameras were aimed in the right direction to view my catwalk on the garage roof, though several cameras had views of the exterior doors. I switched the feed, and camera number 24 was aimed directly at an image of my sister and Sterling Gray kissing in the master bedro
om.
Ugh. I didn’t want to watch. Colette had told me she would enjoy tonight. She thought Sterling was handsome, and even when she was dating Mac, she’d been intrigued by Sterling’s pursuit of her. Mostly, though, she looked forward to treating him like a one-night stand, never picking up the phone if he called, and generally pretending they were barely acquainted if she ran into him at a party. She said it’s what men like Sterling Gray did to women all the time, so she would be happy to give him a dose of his own medicine.
Keeping my eyes averted from the screen was approximately as easy as not saying the thing that made people wince, which for me was pretty much impossible. Colette wasn’t as tall as Sterling, even in heels, but she was the one in charge of the kiss. Her hand trailed down his arm, then up his back, and his arm snaked around her and pulled her in close. She pushed him back with one hand, even as her other hand reached down and stroked him through his jeans.
Wow. My sister had moves.
And I felt like a dirty old man for spying on her.
On the monitor, my sister was still kissing Sterling, but they’d moved closer to the giant four-poster bed. I flipped back to the previous screen to look for any movement on the grounds. Everything was still except for the cat, which had made its way back down the stairs and was prowling the hall, throwing enormous cat-shaped shadows on the wall as it passed each of the mini spotlights. I was glad I’d closed the door to the panic room so the cat wouldn’t accidently be locked inside when I left.
I turned my attention to my mother’s painting. Its frame was heavy and made of gilt-painted carved wood, and was wired to the wall to prevent theft, so I left it alone. The painting itself was stretched over a thin wooden support frame, and it only took about three minutes with my very sharp pocket knife to carefully cut the canvas free, despite its surprising thickness. Once I had it loose, I rolled up Alexandra and Sophia and dropped them into the telescoping tube I’d pulled from the harness strapped to my back.
Code of Honor Page 3
