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"Fantastic," Shaw said. He took another swig of coke and set the glass bottle in the cupholder. "Looks like our friend is leaving."
Holmes's garage door rose, and he pulled out slowly in a black Lexus. Once he was down the road, Shaw got out and stretched. "Let's move."
The three of us went into the alleyway, turned into wolves, and easily jumped the high fence around his house.
Then we sprinted across the back lawn to the patio, which was surrounded by a pool, a hot tub, and a large wooden deck.
Then we reached the sliding glass doors.
Shaw shifted back. "Sometimes you just need opposable thumbs," he muttered to himself, before he used his lockpicking kit to get us into the door. He pressed his cell phone against the digital keypad, running a program that scrambled its signal. Then the door popped open.
"Easy," Shaw said, straightening.
I shifted back too and gave him a look. "Don't get cocky."
"I can't change that much."
We searched the mansion for the ceremonial dagger. After walking through several lavish rooms, we came across an ornate box stored inside a large glass case. It was beneath tall stained glass windows in an enormous study, which sent slanted red light across the box and seemed to infuse it with a malevolent glow. Shaw tried to open it with his lockpick kit, but nothing seemed to work.
"Let's go to plan B," he said eventually. He grabbed a chair from the large mahogany table. I winced as he threw it at the case, smashing it open. Shards of glass scattered across the floor.
Shaw opened the lid.
The dagger glinted menacingly in the dim light of the room as he held it up for inspection. It was a beautiful weapon, intricately crafted with an elegant handle. Something felt charged about the air around the dagger, and it sent goosebumps prickling down my arms.
Then we heard the rumble of the garage door.
"Time to go," Shaw said smoothly. The three of us ran down the hall to the long, circular staircase and raced for the door.
But just as we were almost to the doors, the chandelier high overheard flickered to full, bright light.
A voice boomed, "What are you doing in my house?" '
"Take this." Shaw thrust the knife at me. "I'll take care of him. Liam, get Amelia out."
"The door's locked.” Liam yanked at it.
A man appeared in the shadowed entryway. He seemed to loom larger than life. Something was very wrong here.
"Liam?" Shaw said urgently. "Hopefully you haven't taken a vow of non violence against glass?"
Shaw started toward the man, already beginning to shift. As a silver wolf, he darted toward the attacker.
Liam threw himself into the glass, which started to crack where he slammed his shoulder.
Then the knife jerked in my hands.
I clung to the hilt, too late. I hadn’t expected the knife to buck in my fingers.
The next thing I knew, it went sailing across the room toward Shaw's back.
"Shaw!" I screamed, but I was also already moving. With lightning quick reflexes I hadn't known I possessed, I slammed my hand down on the knife. It hit the marble floor and skittered across it.
Shaw turned a shocked face toward me, then saw the knife, right before it rose from the ground and began to hover menacingly.
"Did Alessandra send you to get the knife back for her?" Holmes asked in amusement as he stepped into the room so we could see his face. He didn’t look so supernaturally tall anymore; he was a bland-looking man with gray-touched hair and an unforgivably smug expression. "I suppose she didn't tell you what happened to the last people who tried to take my property for her sake."
"She seems convinced it’sherproperty."
