A Touch of Death by Ella Grey Page B

wisps of a cloud being pulled and knotted together. He slowly came back to himself, taking a more solid shape as he lay next to me on the bed.
    “Are you sure that I can’t persuade you?” he asked. It took me a second to realize that he was back to talking about the job. Why the hell couldn’t he just let it go and stop acting like a dog with a bone? That one question knocked the afterglow of sex right out of me and I was back to being pissed off. I rolled onto my side and frowned. “Why do you want to do it so desperately? You haven’t shut up about doing it for me. I’ve been a thief for five years and managed perfectly fine before you.” I stumbled back to my feet. “Let’s head downstairs and go over the plan again.” Patrick groaned and I raised my hand before he started to complain. “Fine, you stay up here but make sure you come down in a few hours. You might think that you know this plan inside out but there is nothing like being too prepared as a thief.” That time I didn’t bother opening a portal.
    I spared a glance over my shoulder. Patrick was stretch out on my bed, his arm over his ears. The snore that escaped his lip reminded me of an incoming thunder storm. All those questions about the job and his eagerness to do it for me raised some interesting thoughts. I trusted him, well to a certain extent; we wouldn’t be picking out floral curtains anytime soon. Something was wrong and I didn’t have a clue to what it was.
    I knew what I had to do first, a trip to my garden to grab some supplies, in case Patrick thought that double crossing me was a good idea.
    ***
    The Gem of Merck was a ruby the size of a fist and the most powerful conduit for making contact with the dead in the known world. It was also in the possession of a vampire who’d gladly bite into a vein than let me have it. Vampires weren’t usually known for their compassion and it wasn’t like I planned to tell him why I wanted it. I had a buyer lined up for the gem but we were in agreement, I was allowed to use it first and then it was all his.
    Patrick trailed behind me in his non-corporeal form. No-one could actually see him, unless they squinted their eyes, tilted their heads to the left and then maybe, just maybe, they caught a shimmer. It was like having my own personal ghost.
    The Grand Hotel of Maripoor was a place that only the rich could get in to and only if they were lucky. There were three floors, not counting the basement or what they used for an attic. The gem was kept in a specially designed case in Zachary Heron’s office. There were an uncountable number of cameras dotted around the floors. The only way I was getting pass them is if there was a power cut. I grinned and gently ran the pad of my thumb over the earring in my left ear, partially hidden by my black hair. A glamour that had been carefully woven against my skin, even my grandmother wouldn’t know me.
    I approached the double doors, mostly glass with intricate metal work around the corners. The iron was supposed to ward off the fey. The little blighters were a dangerous bunch, beautiful in a creepy kind of way and more likely to chew on your hand than shake it. I pushed the doors open and made my way to the waiting area. Patrick dispersed and would reform in the security office and I sat down. A few people glanced my way but paid me little attention. I carefully brushed my hair over my ear and rubbed the earring, putting a little more pressure on it until it clicked, destroying the enchanted rune hidden in it. A gentle pulse travelled through the room, and anything that was electric cut out.
    The effect wasn’t immediately noticeable. There was the sound of fingers clicking on a keyboard and a phone being picked up, to be put back down again. “That’s odd.”
    I glanced over to the reception area to see the receptionist, a human with her dark hair pinned up and a pencil in her hand. She frowned as a man walked around the desk. “What’s