Of course, he's making a run for the stairs. He has a bedroom up there and it's probably filled with all the loot he's stolen over the years. If I don't beat him to those stairs, there's no telling if I’ll ever see my bracelet again.
"Excuse me," I scream. It's not really a polite excuse me, it's more of a look-out people, ready or not here I come.
That's all the warning I give before I dart through toward the stairs, pushing people aside as I go. And it's not easy to get the kind of leverage that I need in these heels. If I had more time, I'd chuck them and run that little monster down barefoot.
I've got a chance. I get to the bottom of the spiral staircase at the exact same time as Shark. When he looks up at me, his little face is surprised to see me standing in his way.
"That's right, you little thief, I've got you now."
Shark darts left. I launch myself to the left. Shark zags right. I crash into the stairs, and the little furball gets past me. I make one last lunge with my arm and my black polished fingernails brush brown fur and his little collar and then he disappears up the stairs.
"This isn't over, you little thieving monkey!" I shriek, picking myself up from the stairs and preparing to charge ahead.
All of a sudden, Malachai's goons show up standing in my way. "I'm afraid the upstairs area of the mansion is off limits to party guests," the short one says. I assume he's in charge and I fix him with my harshest stare.
Wait, I'm here with a hulking man. Where the hell is Tristan, anyway? If nothing else, I need him to be a distraction so I can get around these assholes. "Tristan?" I call, looking around.
"Coming," he calls, still attempting to push his way through the crowd. Some twenty-something socialites refuse to move out of his way though, and then he steps on a coach purse, turns his ankle, and goes down.
Of course. I'll have to do this the hard way. "Look here, that little thief stole my bracelet and I'm getting it back."
"I'm alright," Tristan adds.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but it's off limits." The short, bald man in the cheap suit sniffs at me heartlessly. He doesn’t care at all. I'm starting to dislike him very much.
"It's irreplaceable. I'll call the cops."
"Call them," he says smugly. Too smugly. I feel anger rise inside of me and I can feel the eyes of the crowd on me. I'm sure the goon can too.
"This is your life? Bouncer to a monkey thief? He stole something of mine and I'm going to get it back."
That furry little asshole ran straight through the crowd and right at my bracelet. How did he even know? I mean, everybody here is wearing jewelry, and most of it is probably way more expensive than what I’m wearing.
Not more sparkly though. Shit, I should have known this was a bad idea. Tonight, Tristan, the bracelet, everything.
"Not tonight, miss," he says, "if you like, you can file a report on your way out of the event."
"Why would I file a report when he stole it just now? In front of hundreds of witnesses? Just give it back. Or else technically I'm quite sure that makes you, all of you," I point at the goons all in turn, "accessories."
"Accessories?" He lifts a bushy black eyebrow to mock me.
"Yes, accessories. To theft."
"I didn't see anything," bald goon says. "There are claim forms at the check-in desk."
That does it. I try counting to ten in my head to beat back the rage, I really do. Then I remember the swim move that Jake taught me. It's a football technique used to get somebody out of your way just far enough and long enough to get past them.
As I think it through in my head, I'm pretty sure that it won't even count as assault if this guy decides to be an asshole about it, which I'm sure he will. Luckily, I have lots of witnesses to call on as well.
Plus he deserves it for purposely standing between me and my stolen bracelet. He sees me square up to him and stiffens. Luckily, he's the only one who’s currently in front of me on the stairs, the rest of the goons are fanned out at the bottom, leaving just me and bald guy a few steps up.
Okay, Angie, remember what he taught you? Outside hand, slap his hand out of my way and then use my inside hand to complete the motion. I take a deep breath and then execute, darting up the stairs as I go.
Muscle memory kicks in and I pull off the move flawlessly. It helps that he's completely unprepared. The surprised and horrified look on his face as I sprint up the stairs leaving him behind is absolutely priceless.
I hear the gasps of the crowd as I school the security guard, but that's not my concern right now. Once I get to the top of the stairs it's not hard to find the monkey's room. The door is open. Also, even if it were closed I'd have been able to find it by the smell.
Ugh. I put a hand over my nose as I enter the creature's lair. It smells like elephant butt in here. I spot Shark in the corner, shrieking at me as if he were the victim and not the hairy little criminal.
"There you are you little shit. Didn't think I'd come after you, huh? You don't deserve this mansion or your hired goons, you twit."
The place is a mess with ropes everywhere and piles of loot. Some of it definitely stolen from past balls, strewn all over the hardwood floor several feet deep in places. I get an
