Bite: A Shifters of Theria Novel Read Free Page B

with a taut expression as I handed him the room keys.
     
    “What are you doing?” he asked.
     
    “I’m giving you your keys.” It sounded more like a question than a statement.
     
    “Why did you come out?” His teeth clenched and his face reddened, as if I had dented his car and slapped his wife.
     
    “To help you with your bag.” Again, it came out more like a question than a statement.
     
    “I don’t need help. Do I look like I need help?” His teeth remained clenched.
     
    I stepped back. “No, sir.”
     
    “Don’t touch my bag,” he said.
     
    “I’m sorry.”
     
    “C’mon, honey,” Pesconi said to his lady.
     
    The couple turned away and disappeared up the stairs, not noticing me flipping them off behind their backs.
     

     
    A Google search of “BV brand purse” brought up nothing, nor did my search of “BV porosus leather.” Out of curiosity, I searched “Carmine Pesconi,” but that too brought up nothing. I would have continued my investigation had my supplier not interrupted me with a text message.
     
    James Derrick is one of my suppliers—or I should say, he was one of my suppliers before he got himself arrested. He was a thin, ratty-looking guy, with scruffy hair and a scruffy beard. Unlike my other suppliers, James did all of his work by himself. He made his own deals and he sourced and delivered his product. He was cheap, but he was also… slow. He once brought me eight boxes of Alaskan furs—a retail value of around $80,000. James had no idea they were worth anything, so I only paid $8,000—though I wasn’t able to sell half of them when I discovered they were stained with what I’m almost sure was human blood.
     
    Before getting himself arrested, James was the closest thing to a friend I had in Ilium. We’d been close for years, long before I started my own business. We were in the same gang before the big bust. We were two of four that didn’t get arrested. James—the stupid, crazy bastard—stole a cop car during the bust, and actually managed to escape. The cops eventually found the cruiser, abandoned at the edge of town. James hid in the woods for three weeks.
     
    The two other members that avoided arrest never showed up for that meeting. They were already fifty miles away when it went down. Someone tipped them off but neither of them bothered to warn anyone. I don’t know where they ended up. Hopefully in a ditch, where they belong.
     
    I’m lucky that I wasn’t arrested during the bust. I jimmied the warehouse air purifier open and crawled through the vents, out to the alleyway. I lost a beautiful pair of Chanel earrings in those vents.
     
    And I gained a crippling fear of rats…
     
    Olivia’s Survival Guide, tip #202: A building has two air purifiers: one in the basement, and one on the ceiling. The purifier on the ceiling cleans and carries new air into the building; the one in the basement recycles old air. Both connect to the building’s master ventilation system, which is wide enough to crawl through. It’s also where rats tend to live.
     
    As much as I liked James, since the bust, he reminded me of those rats, crawling over my body in those vents: his slouched posture, patchy scruff, yellow teeth, and pushed-up rodent nose.
     
    After the Pesconi’s checked in, James was waiting for me behind the Ilium Inn, sitting on the bumper of a cube van, almost certainly stolen, vandalized with uncountable layers of spray-paint.
     
    “Hey Liv,” he said. “Long time, no see.” He stood up to give me a hug.
     
    “Hi Jamie,” I said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
     
    As usual, his face turned red. “How’s hotel life treatin’ ya?” he asked.
     
    “Don’t get me started. I just had to deal with some huge prick—Carmine Something. Ever heard of him?”
     
    James tilted his head, his clunky brain searching through all of the names that he knew. “Carmine? I don’t think I know any Carmine. What’s his last