Chapter 18
Eighteen
Philippe’s heart raced in his chest as his old Ford sedan trudged along through the late evening traffic.
The bulky monster growled and complained the entire way, leaving him wishing he were currently seated in Rafe’s sleek beast as it roared toward the park, eating up the miles as if they were nothing.
It was only when Philippe was already halfway to his destination that he realized they could have ridden together. Something in his brain had said Rafe might need to fetch his brothers or some such nonsense.
No, he hadn’t been thinking clearly when Jullien stormed into the room with his horrific news. All he knew was, one moment he had been wrapped in Rafe’s wonderful arms, basking in his words of love, and in the next moment, he was racing out into the cold night, praying he could reach Ezra in time.
The clan had already lost three members. He couldn’t stand to lose another.
Yes, he and Ezra had been butting heads for months now. He didn’t agree with Philippe’s decision to reach out to the Variks. He didn’t agree with Philippe’s suggestion that they add certain vampires to their clan. He definitely hated Philippe’s association with Rafe.
But none of that meant he deserved to die for his strong opinion.
Even though they didn’t always see eye to eye, Philippe knew he could depend on Ezra to protect his clanmates, to give his life for all of them. All Ezra’s opinions were about protecting their clan.
Philippe pulled the car into an empty spot along the sidewalk near the entrance to the park.
He shut off the engine and immediately ripped open the glove compartment.
In his panic, he’d run out of the house without a single weapon.
Oh, he’d survived hand-to-hand combat in the past, but it had been an unexpected and desperate kill-or-be-killed moment he didn’t ever want to repeat.
Unfortunately, the glove compartment was empty except for a tire pressure gauge, a handful of napkins, and a coupon for a fast food restaurant.
He slammed it shut and looked around on the floor before stretching to search the back seat.
There had to be something he could use besides the fucking ice scraper.
Climbing out of the car, Philippe unlocked the trunk. A quick search of the random rubbish that had accumulated in the vehicle over the years had him finally wrapping his fingers around a tire iron. Not ideal but it would have to work for now.
After shutting the trunk, Philippe ran into the park. He moved as silently as possible. His steps were nothing more than the occasional soft scrape on the pavement. Nothing stirred. The wind didn’t stir, and the trees seemed to watch in morbid curiosity, waiting for the next big showdown.
It was only when he neared the opposite end of the park that he first sensed he wasn’t truly alone. There was another vampire close.
Philippe stopped near the entrance that dumped out onto a street with a mix of residences and businesses.
He turned slowly, trying to peer deeper into the shadows to locate the other vampire, but he saw nothing.
Was this the feeling Rafe had spoken of when they’d been at the nursing home? He hadn’t sensed anything then.
“Show yourself!” Philippe snarled. His fingers tightened around the tire iron until his knuckles ached.
He lifted the iron into the air, ready to strike the second he caught the hint of movement.
This creature was either the one hunting Ezra or had seen who was hunting him.
Maybe even helped to hunt his other clan members.
“Rafe called me,” the shadows said.
Philippe flinched at the sound of the calm, unfamiliar voice. He narrowed his eyes, but he could see only darkness. But the mention of Rafe had him lowering the tire iron slightly.
As he stared, the shadows seemed to part and give way to a shorter man with long black hair and piercing eyes just like Rafe’s. A tiny smirk played on his lips, and he bowed his head to Philippe, placing his hand to his chest.
“Winter Varik, at your service.”
Philippe’s mouth dropped open, but no words came out.
This was the dark specter that haunted all vampires.
Winter Varik was a legend in his own right.
Or maybe more like the boogieman. He definitely wasn’t what Philippe had expected.
His face was so young and open, so very inviting.
But there was a cold shrewdness to his eyes that left Philippe wondering if he could read thoughts.
“I happened to be in the vicinity when I got Rafe’s call. He and Marcus should be behind us by only minutes,” Winter continued when Philippe still couldn’t speak.
“Have you seen Ezra or the vampire pursuing him? Do you know where he is?”
“I haven’t seen them, but there are a cluster of vampires in the building under construction about half a block down.” Winter jerked his head toward the left, indicating the direction they should head. “There are also wolves there.”
“Wolves?” Philippe repeated, sure he’d not heard the vampire correctly.
A small smile spread across Winter’s lips, but it held no warmth or even amusement. It did nothing to put Philippe at ease. “Yes, I thought that was strange too. By your reaction, I take it that Ezra doesn’t run with wolves.”
“No. I—no. Of course not. We’re in the city. How would anyone have wolves with them?”
“That is a question I’m very interested in answering,” Winter admitted.
Philippe gave a little shake of his head, leading the way out of the park and toward the building he could see bordered by a chain link fence. The place was little more than steel beams and concrete. It stretched about five stories and was surrounded by various pieces of large machinery.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw Winter following no more than two steps behind.
The strange smile was still there, and his blue eyes were narrowed, concentration intense.
It was an odd thing to have Winter ready to fight alongside him, but Philippe didn’t feel the same level of trust and comfort he did in having Rafe at his side.
In fact, Philippe almost felt as if he had his own wolf at his side.
One that could so easily turn on him at a moment.
Shoving the worry aside, Philippe shifted his attention to the fence rising up before him.
He found where the links had been cut and carefully slipped through the opening.
His heart had risen to his throat, and a chill was skating down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold night air.
The construction site was silent, but Philippe could feel the presence of vampires.
At least five of them. One of them was Ezra.
His power was strong and steady, giving Philippe hope that he hadn’t been injured yet. They weren’t too late.
Before he could enter the building, the screech of tires tore through the quiet night air.
Philippe jerked around to see a black BMW scream to a stop in front of the building.
Rafe and another vampire jumped out of the vehicle.
He was shorter than Rafe, but his chest and shoulders were broad.
There was something controlled and powerful about his carriage.
This had to be Marcus Varik. Not exactly the circumstances Philippe wanted to meet the Varik clan, but he appreciated the assistance.
“Subtle, Rafe. Very subtle,” Winter mocked as both of the Variks reached the fence.
“Shove it, Wee One,” Rafe snarled.
“Enough,” Marcus said in a low, forceful tone that surprisingly silenced both brothers. He held the fence open to allow Rafe through first, though his slender form didn’t really need the assistance.
Rafe walked straight up to Philippe, his hands gently clasping his shoulders. “Are you all right? Has anyone attacked you?” Rafe demanded.
“I’m fine. Winter and I just arrived.” He was proud that he managed to get the words out without a stammer.
Relief poured through his body at the sight of Rafe, leaving his knees weak.
He forced his eyes away from Rafe’s worried gaze and found Winter watching them with a strangely inquisitive look that didn’t make Philippe feel comfortable at all.
He looked over at Marcus, who gave a brief nod in greeting.
“What’s the situation?” Marcus asked, pulling Philippe’s brain back to the problem.
“Five vampires. Four attackers and one Arsenault. Feels like one or two floors up. And wolves,” Winter succinctly listed.
“Wolves? Seriously? Like fresh out of the woods pack of wolves?” Rafe said, his hands squeezing Philippe’s shoulders a little harder.
Winter smirked. “Oh, I doubt these are your run-of-the-mill wolves.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Did Bel make some motherfucking superwolves in the lab?”
“Doubtful.” Winter rolled his eyes.
“I suggest we split up,” Marcus interrupted before Winter and Rafe could continue sniping at each other.
A part of Philippe longed to continue watching Rafe and Winter’s unique dynamic, but each second that passed was another second that Ezra was in danger of being killed. They needed to find him now.
“Yes. Rafe will go with me to the second floor.”
“We’ll take the third,” Marcus agreed.
“Try to take at least one of them alive for questioning, dear brother.” There was no missing the sneer in Winter’s voice.
Philippe turned his head to say that he didn’t care if they slaughtered all of Ezra’s attackers, but Winter was nowhere to be seen.
Marcus was jogging toward the building, but Winter… Winter had simply vanished.
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go,” Rafe said. He released Philippe and led the way into the building. Philippe bit back the question of what the fuck happened to Winter and followed on his heels. Now wasn’t the time.