Contents
Title Page
Stolen Innocence
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Gathering of Thieves
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Shadow Heist
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Fleece of Gold
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Spell Snatching
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Other Books
Blood Thief Box Set (Alpha Billionaire Vampire Romance)
MAC FLYNN
Text copyright 2016 by Mac Flynn
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission in writing from the author.
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Stolen Innocence
CHAPTER 1
The paranormal has a way of creeping up on you. For me it strolled through the doors of the flower shop I worked at.
The old shop was a few blocks off the downtown business district of the busy metropolis. It was one of those window-front shops with faded lettering over the single, mostly-glass door. The sidewalk outside was cracked and the potholes were large, but the old company kept a brisk business. And we delivered, too. That was a perk I would regret existed.
It was just after sunset on an early winter evening when the door opened. I stood behind the counter at the rear of the small shop area. The vases brimming with flowers on a round table in the center of the room prevented me from having a perfect view of the entrance. On either side of the door were wall-to-wall coverings of roses, carnations, lilies, and dozens of other plants that would make an allergenic miserable.
All I saw of the new customer was a black top hat. I leaned to one side to catch sight of the figure and glimpsed a black cloak move to the other side of the table. I frowned and leaned to the other side. I had my first full view of the man, and I didn't quite know what to think.
His age was about thirty with jet-black hair and pale skin. He was tall, a little over six feet, and carried himself with a confident step. He was dressed like he just walked out of a black and white movie. There was the black dress pants, a dress shirt with coat, and a long, flowing cloak that buttoned at the front. The guy wore a top hat and held a cane with a silver top in his left hand.
His eyes flickered to me without he head turning. He faced me and removed his hat. I blinked at him as he bowed to me. "Good evening. I've come for some of these wonderful flowers."
The vibe I got off the guy was weird. He was a little strange in that old-fashioned getup, but he gave off an unnatural creepiness that made me wary. Usually I got the owner to handle the customers, but I wanted this guy out fast.
I slipped around to the front of the desk, but didn't approach him any further. "Were you looking for something in particular, sir?" I asked him.
He stepped up to the display against the wall and examined the flowers on either side of him. "I was looking for a very special flower." His wandering eyes fell on me and a sly smile slipped onto his pale lips. "One that blooms once every century."
I frowned and shook my head. "I don't think we have that kind of flower here. Maybe you could come back tomorrow and ask the owner for some numbers."
The man walked over to me, and I retreated until my back hit the front of the desk. He stopped a half foot from me and his clear blue eyes swept over my face. His lips curled back in a crooked grin that showed off a fine pair of chompers. He leaned towards me. His breath brushed against my cheek. He lowered his voice to a soft, sensual whisper.
"Or perhaps you will do."
"No way." I ducked underneath his bent self and scooted around to the other side of the desk. "You go find yourself another shop, mister, because I don't play that way."
The man blinked at me for a moment with wide eyes, but his grin soon returned. There was interest in his eyes now, and I regret to say it was all on me.
He chuckled and straightened. "Perhaps you really can help me," he mused.
My eyebrows crashed down. "I told you we don't have-"
"What's going on here?" a voice spoke up.
I inwardly groaned as my short, pudgy employer, Mr. Vorax, waddled through the rear door. He took in the scene and naturally misunderstood it because he turned his angry eyes on me. "Miss Luvena, I have spoken to you before about treating our customers with proper respect."
"On the contrary, she was treating me with all the respect I deserved," the stranger spoke up. I looked askance at him, but his attention was on my employer. "I was too forward with her, but I will make it up to both of you." He turned towards the rose section and nodded at the five sets of a dozen red ones that were left. "I'll take those."
My employer perked up and gave the man his widest grin. "Which bouquet, sir?"
"All of them."
My employer's eyes widened. "All of them, sir?"
The stranger nodded. "Yes, and I wish to send them to-" I felt a strange tingle in my head, "-Marvin Apartments, apartment sixteen, Gardens Street."
I started and my eyes widened. That was my address. My employer, not knowing nor caring where I lived, smiled and nodded.
"Very well, sir. My delivery boy has gone home for the evening, but they might be delivered tomorrow evening," he offered.
"That will do," the stranger agreed. "I would also like two dozen yellow roses. One dozen to be sent to this address-" he pulled a card from inside his overcoat and handed it to my employer, "-and the other to Park Place Penthouse, suite 30, Park Place Avenue."
My employer's mouth dropped open. I couldn't blame him. The Park Place Penthouse was the swankiest place in the city.
"My goodness, sir! You honor us with such a delivery."
"You would do me a greater honor if this young woman-" he nodded at me, "-performed the delivery. Let's say around this same time?"
Vorax raised an eyebrow. "Her, sir? But she's only an assistant, and I have a very dependable-"
"I would like this woman to make the delivery, or I would like all the deliveries canceled," the man insisted.
The color drained from my employer's face. "B-but sir, this is very irregular-"
"I am a very irregular gentleman, sir. If you'll oblige me this once I'll pay you very well," the stranger promised. He pulled out a thick wallet and opened the top.
My employer's eyes widened as he glimpsed the long line
of hundred dollar bills. The denomination bounced through his eyes and broadened his smile.
"My good sir, we can certainly oblige your-well, your request," my employer assured him.
"Then I will settle my bill tonight and look forward to the deliveries tomorrow," the stranger agreed.
The money was exchanged, and the cash tendered, reluctantly on the part of my employer, to me. The stranger watched me put the cash in the register with that peculiar smile on his face.
"Could I have the name of such a lovely young woman?" he asked me.
"I'm just another employee in a small shop," I replied.
My employer glared at me and turned to the stranger. "She's modest, sir. Her name is Faith Luvena."
The stranger smiled and bowed to me. "Good evening to you, Miss Luvena. I hope to see you tomorrow."
"Maybe," I replied.
I was never so relieved as when that man left. Vorax shut the door behind him, but paused and glanced after the man.
"A limo!" I heard him gasp. He locked the door and turned to me with a shake of his head. "I wish I would've marked up those flowers."
I ignored his greedy ramblings and grabbed my coat off the hanger behind the desk. Vorax's eyes fell on me and he frowned.
He marched over to me and shook his chubby fist under my nose. "What the hell were you doing? Trying to run me out of business?" he growled.
I leaned away from him and frowned. "He was hitting on me."
Vorax's face grew red. "I don't care if he proposed to you on the spot! You treat the customers like they're kings!"
"What if it's a woman?" I teased.
He jabbed a finger in my face and shook with rage. "One more stupid remark like that and you're out of here!"
I pursed my lips, but lowered my eyes. "Yes, sir."
"All right. I'll see you tomorrow." He marched past me and through the back doorway.
I maturely stuck my tongue out at him and went out through the front. The early-winter evening was dark with a hint of chill in the air. The bare trees along the wide sidewalk swayed in a slight breeze. I wrapped my coat around me and marched down the sidewalk and onward to home.
CHAPTER 2
My apartment building was a good twenty minutes away from work, but it was the closest place I could find without paying more in rent than I made. The last half of my long walk took me into the tough neighborhoods. The blocks of towering old brick buildings almost swayed in the wind as their ancient, drafty windows glared down at me. A third of the streetlights were out and graffiti covered the alley walls between the six-floor buildings.
I reached the stoop of my apartment building and paused on the bottom step. The light over the front door was out, but I could just make out a familiar figure seated in the doorway with their back against the front of the building. Hobo Harold. Nobody had any idea if Harold was his real name, but he answered to it. The guy was a sort of smelly mascot for the apartment building, and had been for ten years. Most of the time he could be found seated at the top of the stoop in the recessed doorway. His worldly belongings consisted of two thick blankets, one of which he always sat on, his clothes, and a large leather duffel bag, the contents of which he never revealed to anyone.
Harold was about fifty, or maybe seventy, with a scruffy gray beard, thinning hair, and a toothy smile. His summer garb consisted of a worn pair of jeans. For his winter garb he added a thick wool shirt and long coat that looked like it'd seen better days during the Revolution. The American one, not the one in the 1970s.
"Hey, Harold," I called to him as I trudged up the short flight of steps.
"'Morning, Miss Luvena," he replied
I pulled out my apartment keys and smiled. "It's evening, Harold."
He looked up at the sky and squinted. "I guess it is. Where'd the time go?"
I would've suspected he was into drugs or alcohol, but he did neither. He looked haggard, not high.
"Sucked away by employment," I quipped.
He furrowed his brow and shook his head. "No, I don't think it's that. I don't have none of that. Haven't for a long time."
I put my key into the locket and turned it. "I don't know if I should envy or pity you, Harold."
Harold shuffled deeper into his array of overcoats and worn, soiled blankets. "Neither, Miss Luvena. I get along." He had a way at pulling at heart strings even after they'd been stretched tight by a long day in the service sector. I pulled out a dollar and handed it to him. He grinned and tipped his head at me. "Thank you, Miss Luvena. It means a lot to me."
I smiled and stepped a foot inside. "No problem, but don't spend it all in one place."
He tucked the dollar into his myriad of pockets and nodded. "I'll try not to, Miss Luvena."
I waved at him and entered the lobby of the dingy old apartment building. The small space was just large enough for the desk at the rear, and on the right side of that were the narrow stairs that led up to the rooms. The owner of the apartment building, an older gentleman with tired eyes by the name of Mr. Marvin Copo, sat on a stool behind the desk. One elbow was propped up by the desk and in his other hand was the paper.
I walked up to the desk and nodded at the archaic form of news distribution. "You still read that?"
He looked up and smiled at me. "Evening, Miss Luvena." He picked up the paper and folded it shut. "I thought I'd catch up on the world for a bit, so I bought a paper. Don't know where I'd get my news except from the old gossips in this place."
"There's always the internet," I suggested.
He shrugged and returned to his paper. "Can't wrap my head around that thing and all them pages. I'll stick with the devil I know."
I swept my eyes over the front page. "So what's the devil telling you today?"
"That the rich are getting richer except the ones that are having their things stolen," he commented.
I raised an eyebrow. "That thief again?"
He nodded. "Yep. The cops don't know who's doing it, but it's got all them swells on Park Place Avenue up in a bind." I frowned. That was the second mention of that street in less than two hours. Copo flipped over the paper and shook his head. "Maybe they'll catch him, or maybe they won't, but at least he's giving me some entertainment."
"Mind if I borrow that paper?" I asked him.
He looked up and raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said it wasn't no good."
I smiled and shrugged. "You live and learn."
He shook his head, but pulled out one section and passed the rest of the paper over to me. "All right, but don't go messing with the ad section. I'm not doing look at it."
"I promise I'll be careful," I assured him as I turned to the stairs.
My apartment was located on the third floor. I unlocked the door and stepped inside. The lights were already on, and a woman was in the small kitchen. She was hunched over a frying pan with her back to me. A few swear words floated over to me.
"Damn it! Why the fuck won't you obey me!" she growled.
I smiled and walked over to the chair, couch, and coffee table that made up our living room. "Trouble with the sunny-side eggs?" I guessed
She yelped and spun around. In her hand was a egg-splattered spatula. She glared and shook the spatula at me. Bits of egg flew onto the kitchen table that stood between us.
"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" she scolded me.
I plopped myself on the couch and leaned back with a sigh. The paper hung from my hand over the arm of the couch. "If you'd pay more attention to your surrounding you would've heard me."
"How can I hear a ghost?" she retorted.
I tossed the paper onto my lap and stretched my arms over my head. "Maybe have a Ouija board set up over the door? It might start spinning if a ghost comes around."
She snorted and returned to her cooking. "You're nuts."
I glanced down at the paper in my lap. The bottom-fold headline was in large, bold letters: Jewel Thief Strikes Again. Not a catchy headline, but I read further.
Police are baffled as another jewel heist hit the residential neighborhood of Park Place Avenue. This time a diamond bracelet was taken from the secret safe. There appears to be no forced entry, and the owner, the real estate heiress Miss Eileen Eres, was found unconscious beside the open safe. When interviewed by police, she told them she remembered nothing from that night but a pair of red eyes.
Felicia came up and set two cups of cocoa on the coffee table in front of me. She nodded at the paper. "It must've been a tough day if you're reading from that."
I tossed the paper onto the table and took one of the cups. A sip of the delicious chocolate and I felt better. My eyes flickered up to my friend who seated herself in the chair opposite me. "You happen to know of another dead-end job that's open?" I asked her.
She raised an eyebrow. "The boss bothering you again about the wilting flowers he forgot to water?"
I set down the cup and shook my head. "No, worse. He's got me running errands."
Felicia frowned. "Isn't that what Johnny's for?"
I shrugged. "Supposedly, but this rich guy came into the store just before closing time and demanded I take some of his order to an apartment on Park Place. He was going to cancel the order if I didn't."
My friend snorted. "Must have been a big order."
I tucked a leg underneath myself. "Yeah. He spent my entire month's salary in a few minutes."
Felicia blinked at me. "Seriously?"
I nodded. "Seriously."
She leaned forward and studied me. "This guy doesn't happen to be really cute, does he?"
I rolled my eyes. "A little, but he puts off this creepy vibe. And he tried to hit on me."
Felicia snorted. "I bet that got him far. Did you shoot him down or did he make a crash-landing?"
I shrugged. "I tried to shoot him down, but Vorax came from the back and shot me down."
"Damn. So where are all of these flowers going?" she wondered.
I picked up the cocoa mug and furrowed my brow as I looked at the contents. "That's one of the funny parts. Some of them are coming here."
Felicia frowned. "You didn't like the guy hitting on you, but you gave him your address?"
I shook my head and looked my friend in the eyes. "That's what's so weird. I didn't give him my address."
"Maybe Vorax mentioned it?" Felixia guessed.
I snorted and took a sip. "He doesn't even know where I live."
Felicia shrugged. "Maybe he overheard you mutter something to yourself? You do that a lot."
I glared at her. "I never mentioned my exact home address while he was there." I slunk in my chair and took another sip as I replayed the confrontation in my mind. "There was definitely something weird about that guy."