Camera Obscura (A Novel of Shadows Book 1)

by Christina Quinn

  When I turned the corner, I pulled over and took out my phone, slipping my ear piece in.

  “Cameo, call Davy.”

  “Garbo’s House of Chicken and Waffles,” he answered, sounding more than a little sleepy.

  “Garbo? Is that even a real name?”

  “Not the slightest clue. What do you need?”

  “If I get you access to a computer directly connected to the Sterling mainframe would you be able to search their files?”

  “Yeah. I actually have just the little virus to open all sorts of doors.”

  “Could you hide it in an image?”

  “Certainly.”

  “What about a camera phone photo?”

  “Yes, let me guess, you’re going to send our Mister Sterling a naughty picture?”

  “Yup.”

  “Delightful, I do love a bit of espionage via a good old fashioned tit pic. I had almost given up hope that you’d ever want my help doing it.”

  “There’s a reason for that, thanks to Christian my tits are kind of memorable.”

  “Well, it’s certainly not that you’re too classy a lady for it.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “No thank you, love. You’re missing my favorite bits and pieces. Need anything else?”

  “I’m heading to the warehouse.”

  “You’ll run into Nate.”

  “Oh?”

  “He was tapped this morning for a contract out of state, which is a pity.”

  “Why?”

  “Thanksgiving is Thursday, genius. I might not be from this country, but I do like spending the holiday with you guys.”

  “Nate’s fast, I’m sure he’ll be back for it.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop being a pouty fucking child.” I ended the call and headed through town.

  ****

  The Warehouse was where requisitions was located. From the outside, it looked like a dingy, dirty, brick box connected to an old factory that was falling apart and more or less abandoned. If a Shadow needed something for a case that wasn’t ammo or weapons we went to The Warehouse to get it. It was essentially like one gigantic department store full of clothes, furniture, shoes, boots, and jewelry.

  Nate’s car was out front when I pulled up. I contemplated coming back later, but dismissed it out of childishness. It wasn’t that I cared what Nate would think about what I was doing. It was that I didn’t want to deal with whatever pissing contest arose from him finding out that I was there to tailor my wardrobe specifically to cater to Thorn’s interest. I didn’t even allow myself to hope that it’d be Business Nate that I’d run into. With how things were going it was almost a given that Nate would be Artificial Human Nate, which would have meant conversation, him asking why I was there, and then an unnecessary pissing contest. Maybe I could fuck him to shut him up?

  When you entered the corroded metal door, the first thing you saw was a grimy, dimly lit atrium and a dark door with a small box next to it which appeared at first glance to be rusted shut. However, if one removed the front of the tiny box, it revealed a hand scanner. I stuck my hand in the box and felt the warm beam wash over my palm. The heavy metal door clicked and beeped before sliding open. I placed the front back on the box and entered the vast expanse beyond.

  The first floor was all clothing, I could see the top of Nate’s head bobbing through the aisles as I snagged a cart and made my way towards intimates. I didn’t even look at what I grabbed. I shoved my hand into the bin of thongs with the S in front of it, and plopped a handful into the cart before heading for the dresses. I found my size and chose two that would showcase my ample breasts—they were both designer labels. Next, I picked out a coat and shoes.

  My phone buzzed when I was on my way to the door.

  - Reservations for 8 tonight at Vue 72. Giving press conference in an hour wish me luck.

  Sucking my teeth, I tucked my phone back into my pocket, shoved everything into a black garbage bag, and left noting that Nate hadn’t said anything. Apparently, things were looking up, and he was already in all business mode.

  The date went as well as could be expected, and despite returning to Lexington and Park, Thorn remained eager as before. I smiled and played along all throughout dinner, and feigned an early day at the office for why I didn’t go home with him. I did, however, give him a vague promise of swinging by after girls’ night out with Fiona, Tabs, and Abby.

  Twenty

  THE NEXT NIGHT found me shifting uncomfortably on a stool at the freshly reopened Castella’s. The bar still smelled like fresh paint. Throughout the day, I had developed a new found hatred for thongs, and the ever-shifting never seemed to make it better. My phone buzzed on the bar, I glanced at it—another check-in text from Thorn. I turned the phone over, and sipped my hard cider, swinging my feet. Abby and Tabs entered together laughing, and joking about something I missed. Abby looked unlike herself, wearing a track jacket and jeans. Tabs wore a super hero hoodie with bright neon-green leggings. Just looking at them made me cold.

  “Aren’t you guys freezing?” I asked as Tabs sat next to me.

  “A little. But we’re going to drink, and Jon’s picking us up, so we’d be too warm if we dressed for the weather.” Tabs shrugged and waved down the bartender, ordering cocktails for her, Abby, and Fiona.

  What’s something a normal person would ask?

  “Everything okay with you guys now?”

  “I think. I don’t know.” She twisted her long dark dreads up into a bun. “I wish I could say for certain, but one day he’s fine, and the next he pisses me off.” I stopped myself from saying what I was thinking—that she should leave him. I didn’t understand why someone would put themselves through so much discomfort for the sake of another person.

  Fiona burst through the door, waving to everyone who looked her way. She looked, as always, like the Shadow she once was, dressed from head to toe in black. Unlike the other two, she wore a thick black leather jacket like mine. It was odd to see her without one of her men, but I suppose that would defeat the purpose of Girls’ Night Out.

  “You would not believe the day I’m having.” She plopped down on the other side of Abby. “The Camera Umbra took a case from me,” she groaned out before flagging down the bartender.

  “How?”

  “The Anubis showed up at my house this morning, and while sitting at my kitchen table, both threatened me, and complimented me on my work so far.”

  “What was the case?” Abby snatched up her drink as soon as the bartender set hers down. I could smell the chocolate in her martini from where I sat.

  “Nothing too big, a serial killer in Cleveland they think is a vampire. The FBI contacted me about it the day before yesterday.” The bartender set a shot of vodka next to her daiquiri. “Part of me is thankful. Cleveland sucks this time of year.”

  “I think Nate caught it,” I commented nursing my cider.

  “Ouch, poor Nate.” Fiona winced. “How’s your case going?”

  I cackled. “You don’t want to know.”

  “You’ve asked us all for help. It’s only fair.”

  “It’s a cluster fuck still, but I did reunite the missing kids that were still alive with their parents.”

  “That’s great. I love a happy ending,” Abby chirped.

  “If only it was an ending.” My phone buzzed again, I flipped it over. Thorn had sent me another text.

  - Stuck at office doing nothing. Can’t wait to see you tonight.

  “Who’s that?” Tabs peered at my screen.

  “Thorn.”

  “Thorn?”

  “Yeah, Thornton Sterling IV.”

  “What happened to Nate?”

  “Nate and I haven’t been together for a while. I’ll be back in a sec, can you guys get me another cider?”

  I hopped off the bar stood and walked back into the bathroom. Once in a stall, I took off my coat, top, and bra, then snapped a few pictures of my bare breasts. I added the virus to the pho
to of my choosing like Davy told me, and then emailed it to Thorn with the subject RE: OUR PENDING MERGER. I tucked my phone in my back pocket, and put my clothes back on before returning to my seat at the bar.

  “You’re in a relationship with the multi-billionaire heir to House Sterling?” Tabs voice held a distinct tone of disbelief. Honestly, I was right there with her but for completely different reasons.

  “Something like that.” I sipped my cider.

  “Why do you even still have a job?”

  “I like to be self-sufficient?” I shrugged.

  “What’s he like in bed?” Fiona asked with a grin.

  “Don’t know yet.”

  “New?”

  “You could say that, I don’t think it’ll last very long.” As if on cue, my phone buzzed again. I took it out of my pocket and was greeted by a dick pic in my inbox. Gotcha. I smirked as I set my phone on the counter.

  “Rich guys always struck me as high maintenance, but I’ve never dated anyone from Lexington and Park.” Tabs ordered her second Mojito.

  “Says the woman married to Sidhe Royalty.” Abby tittered.

  “He gave up his title, and spot in line for the Seelie Throne when we were married!” Tabs insisted, pouting. The rest of the evening devolved into an endless conversation about sex and relationships, in other words, garbage I didn’t particularly care about.

  We almost closed out the bar, I waited outside with them until Jon came to pick them up. They were all falling down drunk when they piled into the large silver SUV, I wasn’t. Over the course of the evening, I only had two ciders, and I finished the last one a good hour before we left to wait in the cold for Jon.

  It was two by the time I was behind the wheel heading to Thorn’s building. I tucked my ear piece in as I sped through the slushy street.

  “Cameo, call Davy.”

  One ring. “Hello ‘ello, luvie.”

  “You seem happy.”

  “Cis dropped by for a—”

  “I don’t want to know.”

  “Well, I have my back door now.” He chuckled, clearly a sex joke I missed. “I have a program going through their system searching for hidden folders and files as we speak.”

  “Good, I’m going to search his apartment.”

  “How are you going to accomplish that?”

  “GHB, favorite choice of date rapists everywhere.”

  “That’s a special kind of morbid.”

  I sighed. “This is why I don’t attempt humor.”

  “Well, best of luck, Rosie. I’ll leave whatever I find on the server.”

  “Thanks.”

  I hung up and pulled into a visitor spot in front of the massive black glass building that Thorn called home. I didn’t like penthouses. There was something about them that seemed impractical to me, that and there was no up to go really. I guess you could wait on the roof, but it tended to be too accessible from the Penthouse, and sometimes easily seen. I changed in the car, wriggling into the short black dress that offered up my breasts like hors d'oeuvres at a cocktail party.

  After zipping it, I slipped on my thigh holster, applied my war paint—I mean makeup— and tugged my coat back on. I figured if I needed more than the Pico I was fucked anyway. In the elevator, I was left contemplating if I should have brought a suppressor or not. Most women might have been questioning the ethics about what I was about to do, but that wasn’t me.

  The moment I stepped off the elevator, before I could even take in my surroundings, Thorn was there with his tongue down my throat. I might have been immune to love, but I could certainly feel lust. Everything about the kiss made my body want that much more. Still, no matter how much I wanted him to scratch that itch only someone else could reach, I broke the kiss. I had a job to do.

  “Let's have some champagne first, to celebrate.” And because the pill will dissolve faster because of the bubbles. I grinned at him, and he nodded.

  “I’ve been thinking about you all day. Literally from the first moment I woke up.” He stepped deeper into the apartment, and I followed slowly behind him making a note of all the exits—including the maintenance stairwell.

  The decor was all varied shades of gray, from the dark charcoal, granite floor to the pale, ashen furniture, and every shade in between. The layout of the place was open, and from the windows you could see an amazing view of the city. I allowed myself a moment to take in the twinkling lights below.

  In the kitchen, there was even a wine-rack built into the wall. He pulled a bottle of something I didn’t catch the label of from a shelf and unwrapped the gold foil from around the cork.

  “I told the maid and security to have the night off.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  “If you can’t protect me I don’t think anyone can.” He smiled sheepishly as he unwound the small metal cage from the top of the bottle.

  “I meant more along the lines, of you clearly having absolutely no clue how to open a champagne bottle.” I smirked.

  “O-oh.” He frowned a little and blushed a deep shade of red. I pushed him to the side, grabbed the kitchen towel, and wrapped it around the neck of the bottle.

  Once I had the cage off, I slowly worked the cork out. I was a bartender at a strip club in New York for a month once, some things from then had stuck with me. I poured the glasses, and slipped the pill into his flute with a little slight-of-hand. To distract him from the obvious tablet, I shrugged out of my coat, and unzipped my dress. I sipped my drink, and he downed his in one quick gulp. Rounding the kitchen island, I stepped out of my heels, and unfastened the thigh holster, leaving it in a pile with the Pico by the couch.

  He grinned at me, and for a moment I was a little disappointed that we wouldn’t be having sex. I closed the distance between us and tore into him. I had fifteen minutes to get him naked, and on the bed before the drug kicked in.

  We made out like high schoolers as I undressed him, pulling off his jacket, and tearing his shirt, sending the buttons flying everywhere as they popped off, and he led the way to the bedroom. He fumbled with my bra at the foot of the king-sized bed. I got impatient, and unhooked it myself, letting the lacy garment fall to the floor as I tackled him on the bed.

  Our mouths never once parted as our hands roved each other’s bodies, our hips grinding together in an overture of what Thorn was so convinced was minutes away from happening. His kisses grew slow, more languid and drawn out as the drug started to wrestle his consciousness from him until eventually it won, and he fell back limp on the bed.

  Sighing, I sat up and slapped him as hard as I could across the mouth. He didn’t even grunt, his pretty head turned with the force, and I checked his breathing and his heart rate. Once I was sure both were fine, I stood and started staging the scene. Davy had dug up reliable information on Thorn’s party days, and I was fairly certain that if I staged the room well enough, he would dismiss the memory loss as excessive drinking.

  I crumpled up the bedspread, threw pillows everywhere, grabbed his belt from the floor looped it around his neck and gave it a good pull at just the right angle that he’d have a bruise from it. I loosened it, checked his breathing again, and tossed it across the room. I smeared my lipstick around his torso, and other various places on his body. It was all clinical almost, especially when I put the condom on him and then took it off again, leaving it to the side of the bed. I left several other condoms throughout the room that I stretched out over a cucumber from the fridge. Then and only then, did I start the snooping process.

  I took my earpiece and phone out of my coat pocket—cell phones make searches so much easier. A good trick to making sure everything goes back to the way it was before you start is to take a picture of everything before you move it. That being said, it does slow the whole process down, but I went into Thorn’s apartment certain I wasn’t going to get any sleep.

  “Cameo, Call Davy.”

  Davy picked up immediately. “Ooo, you naughty, naughty girl,” he reprimanded me in my ear.r />
  “What now?”

  “Cameras all over the place. I’ve fucked with the feed, so no one will notice your little fishing expedition, but I caught the whole thing. And bravo by the by, there is no doubt in my mind that if our roles were reversed, I would not be on the phone with you right now.”

  “Are you done?”

  “He is hung like Big Jake.”

  “What?”

  “Big Jake, the biggest horse in the world.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I really didn’t. Has your program turned anything up yet?” I asked as I sat at Thorn’s desk, and wiggled the mouse on his computer. It was locked, and I expected it to be. I honestly didn’t know a single person who didn’t password protect their computer. I knew his password from before. Mustang5. I typed it and snickered.

  “What was that?”

  “His password is Mustang5.”

  “Oh yeah, that was funny. Way to be generic there Mr. Thornton Sterling pretentious pants. Anyway, the program hasn’t kicked back anything regarding the case.”

  I rifled through his files for hidden folders, and found a few. Most were full of porn—so much porn. I was right about the femdom. For some odd reason seeing those videos made me smirk a little more than they should have. Then I found one folder that wiped that smile right away. It had the most innocuous name, Acquisitions.

  Thornton Preston Winthrop Sterling IV was a very neat monster. The folder held a treasure trove of information he shouldn’t have had. Files containing the addresses and names of each missing person, as well as places they frequented. There was even one for me, but all he had was a bunch of question marks. One had architectural plans for something called the Coalition Headquarters. I could tell by the layout of the building it was the old police station.

  “Shit. Are you still there, Rosie?”

  “Yeah. What do you have?”

  “I think I know what he’s doing. He wants to form a coalition of the preternatural, something like the vampire council. There’s a document on his computer.”