Mating Fever by Susan Hayes
Tessa
The gods seemed to be smiling on her, and Tessa Banks wasn’t sure whether to be happy or nervous that things were going so well. All she knew was that when she’d forced open the front door and rushed to deactivate the alarm system, she’d discovered it was already in standby mode. It didn’t seem possible that the bastard who owned this place would be stupid enough to forget to set the alarm, but why else wouldn’t it be on? Well, there was one other possibility, but what were the odds that someone else was breaking in at the same time she was? Tessa dismissed the idea with a near soundless chuckle.
I’m more likely to get attacked by a great white shark right here in the hallway.
She’d met the owner of this house only once, the day he’d hired her to steal the painting she was now here to steal back. It was the only way she was ever going to see the money he owed her. The son of a bitch had happily paid her in cash, as per her request. She’d checked to confirm the money was accounted for, but she hadn’t looked close enough, and she missed the fact that nearly half the payment was in counterfeit bills. When Tessa had tried to contact him, the bastard had simply dropped off the radar. It had taken some serious digging to track him down.
It cost her dearly to gain the details of this place’s security setup and a basic blueprint, but now she had a decent chance of finding the Monet in this massive mansion. There was a void in the plans, a large space that took up the center of the second floor. There were no markings or notes as to what the room was intended for, and Tessa was betting that would be where she would find her painting, on display with the rest of Christophe’s most beloved, ill-gotten treasures.
Tessa shook her blonde bangs out of her face and punched in the code that would deactivate the sensors that guarded the interior of the house. She watched as more green lights appeared on the security panel. It looked like her luck was holding. Tessa slung her pack onto her shoulder and headed for the stairs at a jog. Fate was a fickle bitch, and Tessa had no intention of staying long enough for something to go wrong.
Halfway up the stairs the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and a strange new sensation sent her senses into overdrive. Somewhere deep inside her, the leopard half of her soul stirred and chuffed softly as she drew in a mouthful of air and sampled it, looking for … what the fuck was she looking for anyway? Tessa shook her head and forced the leopard to the back of her mind. Whatever her cat was looking for, she was going to have to wait. The painting came first.
By the time she reached the second floor, Tessa’s leopard was snarling and demanding her attention. Something was off, but Tessa couldn’t understand what it was. There was no danger that she could sense, no threat she could detect, and yet her leopard was yowling incessantly, demanding that she do something.
When you figure it out, let me know, will you? Until then, shut up and let me focus.
Three deep, cleansing breaths helped to quiet the noise inside her mind, and Tessa jogged down the main hallway, ignoring the fortune in paintings that lined the walls and the artfully lit recesses that contained relics and artifacts from every corner of the globe. Her footsteps were completely muffled by the deep pile carpet beneath her boots, the black and bronze pattern strangely hypnotic.
The door at the end of the corridor was hammered bronze, framed on both sides by pillars of black marble that made it seem as if one was approaching a mythical treasure room. Her painting had to be locked away behind it.
She dropped to a crouch in front of the door and began checking for alarms and other security measures. It would suck to get this close and then set off an alarm that wasn’t in the plans. Only when she was certain the door was clear did she stand up and slowly crack it open. Beyond it was an art lover’s idea of heaven.
