The Canvas Thief
Page 31
Several blocks away, a car alarm started bleating, trying to fill the gaping canyon of silence ripped opened by Breas’s words. When Benjamin looked at Maya, he saw that her dark brown eyes had narrowed and her eyebrows had drawn together.
“You stole that book,” she said.
Breas smiled and Benjamin felt a wave of Mesmer wash over him. “It’s only stealing if I don’t return it.”
Maya’s defense against Mesmer was working because her expression turned murderous. “You gave Adam his copy of the book.”
“Nope.” Breas kept his smarmy smile. “Somebody else stole that one. When Red here told me about that book, Volume One, I figured there had to be a Volume Two.”
“I don’t understand.” Benjamin rubbed his jaw, the habit impeded by the hardening layer of plaster.
“How did you know Roland was looking for information on the Formed?” Maya looked from the vampire to Benjamin. Benjamin shrugged to indicate he hadn’t told the vampire.
“I was at the library,” said Breas. “And I overheard someone asking a librarian about the Formed and EverVerse. I got the guy’s name from the librarian, did some checking and realized he was a friend of Maya’s.”
Maya didn’t seem in any way amused. “So you stole the book from the, uh, Holders and Mesmered the librarian into calling Roland.”
“Exactly. Now I need it back.”
Maya’s lips pursed in displeasure and Benjamin was grateful he wasn’t on the receiving end of her razor-sharp look. “I thought you didn’t get involved in the affairs of humans.”
“I don’t. I do, however, meddle a little.”
Maya snatched the putty knife from Benjamin’s hand and frowned at it. “This won’t do, will it? It has to be wood, right?”
The vampire answered for Benjamin. “Putty knives just make vampires angry. As do uppity humans who don’t do what they’re told.”
Benjamin shifted his feet and started to back away from the door. “Uh, Maya, I’m going—”
“Wait.” Maya snagged Benjamin’s shirtsleeve with a finger, her attention full on Breas. “About this deal you struck with Benjamin.”
“I strike lots of deals.” The vampire tilted his head, somewhat doglike, dark gray eyes disconcertingly innocent. “You need to be a bit more specific.”
“The one where Benjamin owes you a favor.”
“So?”
“Honey?” Benjamin tried to disengage her fingers from his shirtsleeve, which was futile since his lovely fiancée had a grip on him like an eagle with a juicy fish. “Maybe—”
“You want the book? You forget about Benjamin’s favor.”
“No.”
“Contracts made under duress aren’t valid.”
Breas snorted. “If the Holders realize that book is missing, they’ll come looking for it. You’re asking for trouble keeping that thing in your possession.”
Ignoring the vampire’s statement and looking exceedingly smug, Maya said, “Benjamin really doesn’t have to do anything for you, including a favor.”
Remembering the pain Breas inflicted on him when he asked for his help, Benjamin repressed a shiver. Maya, however, met the vampire’s ferocious stare.
Breas’s mouth twitched. “We made a deal, troll doll.”
“Uh-huh. He agreed that if you asked him for a favor, he’d say, ‘Yes.’ The deal didn’t specify ‘performance.’”
Benjamin’s jaw dropped, but Breas lifted his hand to his mouth trying to hide a grin. “Don’t piss off your troll doll, Red,” he said. “Divorce court will be the seventh plane of hell.”
In the background, the distant car alarm finally stopped shrilling. Maya oozed smug satisfaction. Releasing Benjamin’s shirt, she beamed up at him. “Go get the nice vampire his book, please.”
Torn between horror at her audacity with the vampire and a heart-throbbing need to make love to her, it took a second for his feet to obey and take him away. Maya and Breas’s forced, polite conversation followed him as he made his way down the hall toward her bedroom.
Our bedroom, he reminded himself, switching on the light. The book sat on her dresser, next to a hairbrush, a small makeup bag and a pink bottle of hand lotion. Reaching for the book, he paused, his gaze stopped by a strip of photos, the kind that came from do-it-yourself picture booths, that was propped against the mirror. Despite the array of bizarre faces she made, the dark-skinned, black-haired woman was beautiful. The guy? Well, even with the crooked reminder of a break in his nose and a scar on his chin, he was still closer to pretty than ruggedly handsome. Granted, the purplish shadow of an almost healed black eye gave him the air of a wounded hero, but, as a check in the mirror confirmed, it was only temporary.
Returning to the doorway, he handed the book to Breas. “Why’d you do it? Get us the book?”
Eyelids dropping low and affecting a bored expression, the vampire shrugged. “You’re…competent. Nowadays, it’s impossible to find good help.”
Benjamin brightened. “Really?”
“Huh.” Maya’s lips quirked in an excellent imitation of Breas’s smirk. “It couldn’t be that under that cold-hearted exterior, you’re a big, sappy romantic?”
The vampire’s expression didn’t change, although one eyebrow twitched. “No. That couldn’t be it.” With a sardonic bow of his head to Maya, he backed away. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got children to torture and maidens to despoil.”
“Have fun with that.” Maya punctuated the comment with a wink. Without another word, the vampire turned and headed down the walkway. Benjamin stepped back, tugging Maya gently with him and shutting the door.
“You’re amazing,” he said.
“So are you.” Drawing a finger down his nose, pausing on the old break, she said, “But you’re filthy. Let’s do something about that, eh?”
A stupid grin on his face, Benjamin turned the latch, snapping the dead bolt home, and followed Maya.
About the Author
A lifelong resident of the desert southwest, P. Kirby grew up in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of New Mexico State University. Though an avid reader, she only started writing fiction in 2003. Recently, deciding the price—one soul—was too high, she quit her secure but mind-numbing government job to concentrate on writing and art.
The Canvas Thief is her first novel with Carina Press. Her first published novel is The Music of Chaos, a quirky urban fantasy. Thus far, she has been unable to write fiction that didn’t include some fantasy, sci-fi or horror element (her muse is out of touch with reality). She also paints (watercolor) and creates metal art. Given a choice, she prefers to work in metal because metal has an undo option. (If it goes wrong, just beat it back into shape.)
Home is a tiny house in the desert, shared with her long-suffering husband. She is co-owned by an uppity Arabian horse and a sanity-impaired greyhound. She has never owned or been owned by a cat. When not writing, she spends her days thinking up ramen noodle–based recipes and trying to convince her horse that he is not a dog.
Where no great story goes untold.
The variety you want to read, the stories authors have always wanted to write.
With new releases every week, your next great read is just a download away!
Keep in touch with Carina Press:
Read our blog: www.CarinaPress.com/blog
Follow us on Twitter: www.twitter.com/CarinaPress
Become a fan on Facebook: www.facebook.com/CarinaPress
ISBN: 978-1-4268-9305-6
Copyright © 2012 by P. Kirby
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harl
equin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.CarinaPress.com
Table of Contents
Letter to Reader
Dedication
Contents
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
About the Author