Page 20 of The Thief

“It’s pointed the wrong way.”

Pitching his hat into the bedroom, he said, “Americans believe it has to be pointed up so the luck doesn’t run out. Almost everyone else in the world points them down so the luck can pour all over you.”

“I don’t want anything of yours pouring all over me.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Think of it as an amulet. They say no witch can pass under it.”

“That does me little good when witches don’t exist.”

He hiccupped. “Maybe they meant bitch.”

I opened my door and walked through. “Nope. Seems to work just fine.”

“Very amusing,” he said theatrically. Virgil stepped inside his room and slowly closed the door.

“Virgil?”

He peered through the crack. “Yes?”

“Why did you paint your door purple?”

He gave a drunken smile while closing the door. “They were out of yellow.”

After changing into a pair of long shorts and a grey shirt with a cloud design, I made a pit stop in the bathroom, then headed downstairs.

“Have you seen Bear?” I asked Melody.

Tightening a screw on a socket cover, she replied, “Montana went out the back door a minute ago. Everyone walked through, but I wasn’t paying attention. Did you check outside?”

“Not yet.” I pointed at the covers. “Those look great.”

She cupped her hand next to her mouth and sang, “They’re boring.” Melody tapped the screwdriver against the floor, the frown on her face revealing her discontent. “These weren’t my choice. Tak and Hope are making most of the big decisions since it’s their house and his money. We’re still discussing which room I can decorate, but I don’t think they trust me. Tak hates my pink sofa, so he thinks my master plan is to make his house look like Tim Burton meets the Barbie movie. Tak and Hope are all about the earthy look, which is fine. But I want a space with my signature style.”

I glanced around the living room and thought about her predicament. Her being the beta’s mate, I could see how much she wanted to put her stamp on this place. “What about your art room? Isn’t that where you’re going to set up your workspace?”

“Yeah, but that’s for work. Other people might use it.”

“All the more reason to make it inspiring. That room is as big as this one, and it already belongs to you and Hope. Why not put your sofa in there with a bright rug, artwork, a few accent chairs, maybe a cute shelf decorated with colorful candy in clear containers? If you had one of those wine carts, we could make midnight cocktails. Or I could just hang out there and watch you girls work your magic. There would still be plenty of room if anyone wanted to put in a desk or easel for their own crafting. I know Joy would sure love that couch in there so she could do her knitting. Anyhow, I’ll let you get back to your work. I need to find Bear and talk to him. Good night.”

“G’nite.”

I saw the wheels in her head spinning before I turned away. Melody and Hope had already moved their desks and supplies into the art room, so maybe it was difficult for them to imagine it as more than just a workspace.

When I peered into the kitchen, it was empty. I briefly dipped into the dark dining room, then nearly jumped out of my skin when Bear cleared his throat from a small table by the entrance. He was easy to miss because of his long-sleeved black shirt that stretched across his chest.

“You scared the life out of me,” I said on a breath.

Bear reached across the table behind him and grabbed a box of matches.

While he lit the candle between us, I asked, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

He stroked his beard. Most men had beards that looked a few days past a five-o’clock shadow, or they trimmed it so precisely along their jaws that the whiskers looked painted on. Bear’s was gorgeous. Thick without being too long, nicely groomed, and it was obvious that he used conditioner and oil to keep it from drying out. Since when am I a beard girl? I couldn’t remember.

When he looked at me with those dark-chocolate eyes, I didn’t see anything sweet in them.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, wondering what had him fired up. “Is this about the jerk who was hitting on me tonight?”

Bear cleared his throat. “No. It’s about the other one who came in—the man with the silver hair. Do you know him?”

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