Page 3 of Benjamin and the Thief

“Cooper just texted about the assignment,” Ethan said. “I’m surprised you’re not taking a couple of days off.”

Benjamin chuckled. “I feel like I had ten days off already.”

“That eventful, huh?” Ethan asked.

“Yep.”

The bartender brought him a glass of blood.

“Thanks, buddy!”

While he took a sip, he looked back at Ethan. After his twin, Damian, had moved out, he and Ethan had gotten closer, frequenting the bars and nightclubs together, just like he’d done with Damian. Ethan, too, was the last in his family who wasn’t blood-bonded, and therefore took advantage of the plentiful nightlife in San Francisco.

“Did Cooper give you all the details on the Preston job?” Lydia asked.

Benjamin lifted the file in his hand. “I’m up to speed. We should go and do our assessment today.”

“Yeah, after the drink,” Ethan agreed.

Lydia jerked her thumb in Ethan’s direction. “It’s his second one. So we can leave anytime you want.”

“Drink up, guys,” Benjamin said and gulped down the viscous liquid until his glass was empty.

He loved the way the blood coated his parched throat and ignited all cells in his body. With it, the vampire inside him awoke, and awareness of his surroundings infused his body. He loved the feeling of heightened senses that made everything around him more vivid: the colors, the sounds, the tastes, the smells. Yes, particularly the smells. It was the sense he relied on the most. But he couldn’t linger for another glass of blood.

“Time to get to work.”

2

As so often after her weekly visit to the county jail in San Bruno where her brother, Santiago, was incarcerated, Catalina Vargas felt sad and frustrated. She’d done everything at her disposal and within her financial means to help her younger brother, but she was out of legal options. Now all that was left was something she never thought she would have to resort to: a crime.

She’d thought long and hard about it. Santiago had warned her off. But she couldn’t let him rot in prison for the next six years, because nobody ever came out of prison a better person than when they went in. Everything good in Santiago would likely vanish just so he could survive prison life. His fellow inmates were violent offenders, and there was no guarantee that Santiago would even make it through his first year. Her brother was a gentle soul, a young man who avoided confrontations. Yet, his face had shown signs of a violent beating, even though he’d tried to play it down in order not to worry her. But she’d always been able to tell when her little brother was scared. And now she was scared for him.

She had to follow her sixth sense, then everything would turn out well in the end. Her grandmother, too, had often relied on her sixth sense and instilled in her, even as a child, to always follow it, because it would never steer her wrong. Her mother had called it superstition and hocus pocus, but her grandmother’s influence had left her believing that if she listened to the voice in her head, it would guide her in the right direction, even if it didn’t always look like it at first. And her sixth sense was clear: if she helped overturn Santiago’s conviction, her life and that of those she loved would turn out well in the end.

Catalina wiped away the rising tears and merged onto Interstate 80, the freeway leading to the Bay Bridge, before taking the Harrison Street exit into downtown San Francisco. She and Santiago had moved to San Francisco for better job opportunities than they would have had in Fresno. Santiago had apprenticed with an electrician and gotten steady work in the city, while she had hopped from job to job, seeking something that matched her skills and paid well. It had been a challenge from the start, but right now, she wasn’t concerned with her own career opportunities. Her focus had shifted to freeing her brother. And she was prepared to do just about anything to achieve her goal.

She was still driving the old rust bucket her family had used when they lived outside of Fresno. Buying a new car, or even one that had less than a hundred thousand miles on it, was out of her budget. Her savings were all gone, and she wasn’t sure how long she could still survive on the little money she earned. She pushed the thoughts about her situation back, not wanting them to cloud her judgment. It was important that she kept a clear mind so she wouldn’t make a mistake now. Everything had to go according to plan. Her brother’s future depended on it.

In her mind, she ticked off everything she’d taken care of already. Few things remained. She was tired, not just physically, but also mentally. The stress was getting to her, but she hadn’t mentioned anything about it to Santiago. She didn’t want to burden him with this. If he knew what she was planning, he would have tried to talk her out of it. So she’d remained silent, but promised him that there was still hope. That the verdict would be overturned on appeal, and that he would be free soon.

In the Tenderloin neighborhood, one of the seediest parts of San Francisco, she looked for parking. Parking in one of the large public parking structures was out of the question. They were too expensive. She needed to find one of the few spots on the street, where parking was free after six p.m. It was always a challenge to garner one of the coveted spots, because many residents in this neighborhood had no parking garage in their apartment buildings.

She drove slowly, her eyes peeled on the cars parked on either side of the street. Whenever a pedestrian approached a vehicle, she stopped, hoping they’d get into their car and vacate the parking spot. After circling the same four blocks several times, she finally saw a woman loading a few bags into the trunk of her sedan. Her blinker on, Catalina waited for her to get into the car. It took a few more seconds before the brake lights illuminated and the car began to move, slowly reversing out of the parking spot. Catalina put her car in reverse to give the woman more space to back out into the narrow street. The woman’s car was still blocking her from moving when she saw another car coming from the other direction turn into the parking space she’d been waiting for.

“Fuck!” she cursed, while the sedan in front of her pulled away.

Furious at the driver who’d stolen her spot, she jumped out of the car and crossed the street, just as he exited his SUV.

“Hey, that was my spot! I was waiting for it!” she yelled at him.

“Tough luck,” the arrogant forty-something in the fancy suit replied as he went to the back of his car and opened the trunk.

“You stole my parking spot!” The fury inside her was close to boiling over.

“It’s public parking. Better luck next time.”

He reached for something in the trunk. She grabbed him by the shoulder, and he whirled around, glaring at her now. Before either of them could say something, Catalina caught a movement in the corner of her eye. She spun her head to it. A meter maid had just stopped with her golfcart-sized vehicle.