Bite: A Shifters of Theria Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

down. Melting gold is expensive. Then, we take a small rate—just to keep our shop open and to pay the employees. You understand? Five hundred dollars.”
     
    I leave the No Hold Gold with five hundred dollars cash in my purse.
     

CHAPTER SIX
    CARMINE PESCONI

    It’s the middle of the week and there are no reservations booked. Since my shift started, I’ve been sitting at the desk for an hour, and there hasn’t been so much as a passing car on the highway. It’s completely silent, save for the antique clock in the lobby as it strikes midnight and shouts, “Ding-dong!” a noise it makes on the hour, every hour. I sometimes wonder how the hotel stays in business without customers.
     
    I’m not complaining—especially not tonight. On especially slow nights, like tonight, I will sneak up to one of the empty rooms for a few hours and doze off. The President’s Suite upstairs, that the Pesconis are currently sleeping in, is my go-to room. It has one of those Swedish memory foam mattresses.
     
    When the hotel isn’t completely empty, like tonight, I sleep in the lobby. There’s a very comfortable chair next to a warm electric fireplace that runs day and night—winter and summer. I figure I can get four solid hours of sleep in and still be up long before anyone else in Ilium.
     
    So that’s exactly what I do.
     

     
    “Lady.” A deep voice pulls me out of my chair-bound slumber.
     
    Carmine Pesconi looks down on me with a snarling glare. I spring to my feet, despite the fact my heart has stopped beating. “Mr Pesconi! Um, I’m sorry—my apologies. I—I didn’t—”
     
    “Is this a fucking joke?” he asks. “I called three times. You aren’t picking up because you’re asleep?”
     
    I take a quick glance at the old antique clock. I’ve only been asleep an hour.
     
    “I—I’m sorry, Mr Pesconi.” I can hear my heart palpitating against my chest.
     
    “Is it just me, or is everyone in this redneck town just as useless as you?” His voice is a deafening roar, reverberating in the lobby walls and in my gut. I want to curl up into a ball on the floor, but I’m afraid he would stomp on me like a bug.
     
    I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it.
     
    He lowers his voice from a roar to a growl. “We need towels. Clean towels. The towels in our room smell like stale shit. Who washes the towels?”
     
    “Who washes the towels?” I repeat, still feeling his voice’s vibrations in my bones. I keep my voice calm and quiet, as if I’m trying to calm an angry watchdog. Easy boy. “Um, the cleaning lady. She’s new. She just started the other—”
     
    “—I want clean towels.” His voice lowers still, somehow retaining the same gut-wrenching tone as his wall-shaking roar. “If I get one more stale fucking towel, I’m going to be very fucking angry.” Apparently, this is not Carmine Pesconi when he’s angry. “You understand clean , right, darling? I don’t want to be dealing with this shit. We have an early morning tomorrow.” The word ‘darling’ converts all my fear into rage.
     
    I scurry back to the front desk where we keep a small stash of clean towels. He snatches them out of my hand. Before turning to leave, he reaches over the desk and snatches a water bottle.
     
    He takes a swig from the bottle. “Useless fucking woman,” I hear him mutter as he ascends the steps.
     
    I really hope there is cyanide in that bottle.
     
    Darling. The word alone is enough to make me shudder and gag; it seems to be reserved only for the scummiest pricks.
     
    I’ll never be able to sleep on duty ever again. If my brain starts associating sleep with that snarling crimson face, I’ll be lucky if I can ever sleep again.
     
    Returning to my seat at the front desk, I discover a new text message on my phone from one of my regular clients.
     
    “What do you have?” she asks simply.
     
    I message her back, listing the few items I salvaged from James’s warehouse.
     
    She replies