Page 2 of Scream, Little Thief

Another car parks close by. Doors are shut. The hushed voices of a couple drift toward us, and I can’t help but listen in.

“Did you know the founder and owner of this prestigious institute is a woman whose husband died under mysterious circumstances a couple of years ago?” the woman whispers.

I bite back my smile, because I’ve come across that piece of information during my research as well.

“Really?” the man asks.

“Apparently, nobody knows what really happened to the husband—not even Scotland Yard. Some say he committed suicide, others think his wife a murderer, and there are also theories she hired an assassin to take him out for cheating on her. Can you imagine?”

Oh, I can, because my world is nothing like theirs. I’m living in the shadows, where assassins hide, four Mafia families rule the city, and thieves steal from the rich.

And even if the rumors about the owner’s husband’s death are true—good for her. After all, Everthorne Hall has become much more successful since then.

“Mrs. Adlington?” the guard asks warily.

“Yes. Thank you very much.” I take the blue bracelet he offers me and attach it to my left wrist. Since it’s mostly the people who watch with big, curious eyes that get the blue ones, it’s a sign I’m new here. And only a guest for tonight.

Under normal circumstances, Everthorne Hall is only open to exclusive clientele with enough cash to pay for all the benefits of a membership. But tonight is different, because on Halloween, the owner opens the hedge maze up to a handpicked group of people.

Whoever finds their way out of the maze first will be the winner of a golden ticket—a yearlong membership—after being carefully vetted and reviewed, because there’s a strict “no criminals” rule at Everthorne, and they give a more rigorous screening than the Met Police. When they’re done, they’ll know more about you than the government, your spouse, and your own mother combined. That’s how they keep this place safe. No Mafia, no gangs, nothing.

Everthorne Hall isn’t a place for someone like me. Even though I’ll find my way out of the maze and into the building, I’ll never be the winner of the golden ticket. But hidden inside Everthorne Hall is something my new client wants, so he called me to steal it for him.

And I will. I have no doubt about it.

You see, some of my colleagues specialize in priceless art, sensitive data, luxurious jewelry, or money from banks or casinos. I don’t. I’m a multi-passionate kind of girl. Just tell me what you want and what you’re willing to pay me for it, and I’ll get it for you. Simple as that. For the right amount of cash, of course.

As I step closer, an eerie music coming from deep within the maze wraps around me like a cold embrace and lures me in. Carved pumpkins with sinister faces and flickering lights mark the entrance. Thick hedges loom on either side, covered in what looks like fake cobwebs, so tall they’re impossible to climb. They stretch for over a mile, and there’s barely any visibility beyond. Fog crawls low over the ground. Flickering torches light the way into the unknown, casting endless shadows.

Another sound accompanies the music—barely audible at first, but as I step inside, I recognize it instantly.

People moaning in the distance. The rhythmic pounding of flesh against flesh.

The sounds send a thrill through my body. Everything inside me tightens in anticipation.

The couple I heard talking earlier enters the maze next to me. Both give my costume a quick, appreciative glance, then they disappear around the corner.

The black shirt I’m wearing clings to my body like a second skin, and I’ve pulled up the zipper on the front of it to my breasts, allowing for a daring cleavage. A short skirt, a whip, and thigh-high boots complement my outfit. My brown hair’s tied in a bun at the back of my neck, the blue tips hidden so I resemble the true Mrs. Adlington. The finishing touch is the mask with pointy ears covering the upper half of my face.

If I had to dress up for this kinky Halloween party, of course I’d choose Catwoman. Though, the irony of a thief impersonating a thief is probably lost on everyone but me.

My outfit may not reveal much, but it’s sexy as hell, and in this place, I don’t stick out. The woman I just saw entering the maze was wearing a slutty housemaid’s dress with suspenders, while her husband was sporting black leather and a creepy mask that reminded me of him.

I swallow hard, ignoring the surge of need and longing in my body.

It’s been months since I last had sex with someone. Not only because I’m a busy woman and picky, but also because the memories of that night have burned themselves into my brain.

Whenever I close my eyes, I can picture him perfectly. Both of them. Driving me to new heights I didn’t think my body was capable of.

I may not have seen their faces, nor do I know their real names, but no other guy could compare to that. To him.

Shaking my head, I step deeper into the maze. Why not have some fun later? But first, I’ll find a way through the labyrinth and into the house, past security, to the room containing the treasure I’m really here for.

It’s what I do best. I never fail—and I won’t start now.

The eerie music remains the same, but the moans grow louder with every step I take.

A prickling feeling on my neck and a surge of adrenaline hit me unexpectedly.