Chapter Seventeen
Marcus
Connor pulls the late-model Hyundai SUV to a stop and gives an exaggerated whistle. “Dang. There’s money in the vampire business.”
“Dude, you live in Beverly Hills,” I scoff. “Your vampire business is doing just fine.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. Connor and David are doing me a favor. I shouldn’t be mocking their life choices.
Connor laughs, which reassures me. “Point taken.”
“You know, someday he’s going to have a car that’s”—David gives Connor a sidelong glance—“actually nice.”
“This one is fine.”
“For driving carpools.”
“Shut up.” Connor’s attempt at sounding stern falls short, and they both laugh.
Okay, if David’s cracking jokes, things must be okay. We sit for a moment, no one moving to get out of the car. According to Google Maps, we’re a couple hundred feet from the address I plugged in, though the house is hidden behind the cement walls and trees that line the roads.
There are other cars parked on the street, one of which could well be Rob’s SUV.
He and his posse are here somewhere, and we need to find them.
I’m unsettled, worried, but I don’t move.
Can’t. It’s like I need permission from someone braver, and I don’t exhale until David glances at me from the front seat and asks, “What’s next? ”
“Didn’t drive all the way down here to sit in the car,” Connor says.
“Basically, yeah.” I unbuckle my seat belt. “We need to get closer to the house and see what’s going on.”
“On two legs or four?”
“Two,” I say shortly. It’s not a full moon, and while David can shift whenever he wants, he knows I can’t. I’m not sure if his question was sincere or if he’s still joking.
Doesn’t feel like a joke.
I really wish Connor had left him at home.
“Let’s get this over with,” I say, mainly to avoid an argument.
David springs out of the car, shutting the door with a sharp crack. Connor shoots me a sympathetic look as he climbs out, and I unfold myself from the back seat more slowly.
Greeting me with a hard look, David says, “You’re unarmed, and you won’t shift. Seems like that could get you in trouble.”
I meet his hard stare with one of my own. “I’ll shift if I have to.” Assuming you’re still willing to help.
“Here.” Connor comes around the rear of the vehicle, carrying a pair of handguns. “Take one of these.”
I flinch. “I’m . . . no.”
He shoves one at me. “Take it or David’s going to freak out, and we don’t have time for that.”
Swallowing a wad of frustration, I do as I’m told. The gun is small, the barrel only about six inches long, and it’s lighter than I expected it to be.
“You know how to use one of those, right?” Connor asks.
“Yes.” I swallow most of my laugh. “I mean, most of my shooting practice is from video games.” I’ve used a real gun. Once. In Boy Scouts. And it was a rifle. Whatever. I have no intention of shooting this thing. I’ll shift and fight with tooth and claw if it comes to it.
At least, I hope I will.
John
Once inside the side door, we pause. “Upstairs first?” Will asks.
“Yes.” I give a quick come on gesture. “More locked doors.” With Will and Rob on my heels, we climb the stairs.
While much of the house has been designed for show—ten-meter ceilings, sunken fireplace, trees growing through the floor—the private areas are more subdued. Thick carpet muffles the sound of our footsteps, and although muted conversation drifts up from the main level, the air around us is hushed.
At the top of the stairs, I mentally review my previous trip, gut tightening with nerves.
We’re close to the bend in the hallway, and beyond the bend are the rooms where I saw the young people.
The hallway bends again, with doors on either side, and opens onto the loft area.
There’s at least one locked door in each section, but—“I think we should open each door as we pass it.”
Without saying anything, Rob heads for the bend in the hallway.
Before he gets there, the closest door opens and a woman stands facing into the room, hand on the knob like she’s got one more joke to tell.
It’s one of the women from the swimming pool, her raucous laughter as recognizable as her wild blond curls.
I extend an arm, blocking Will, and Rob retreats.
The three of us press against the wall. I’m the closest to the bend, keeping watch, my heart thudding hard enough to echo in my ears.
Will slips past me and elbows me out of the way so he can peer around the corner.
If the young woman heads in this direction, our biggest problem will be keeping her quiet so she doesn’t alert her friends.
I don’t want to kill anybody. Unless I have to.
With a laughing, “Fuck you, then,” she spins around and starts down the hall toward the loft area.
We wait until her footsteps thud down the steps. “The second door on the left was locked, and the second on the right is where the young girl was hiding,” I murmur.
Will hands Rob his briefcase and flutters his hands. Just that easily, he calls up a glamour and takes on the blond woman’s appearance.
“I’ll play lookout,” he says, his normal baritone at odds with the artful hair and makeup. He goes as far as the place where the hallway bends, looks back, and nods in our direction.
Despite his tired eyes, Rob’s grin perfectly captures that addictive excitement we’ve shared for so many years.
We follow Will, and while I recognize Rob’s eagerness, for me there’s a sober note underneath.
There’s something in Rob’s demeanor that I don’t like, as if he knows we won’t get through this unscathed, and for the first time in many long years, I realize I must.
I know on a level deeper than thought that there’s someone I need to see again. To hold. To care for with every fiber of my being.
Closing my eyes, I force those thoughts away.
For pity’s sake, pay attention. At any moment someone else could appear from behind a door, and this time, they might not stomp off the other way.
I shake myself, picking up my pace to follow Rob more closely.
I have no time for romantic dreaming. We all need to get through this alive.
Rob jerks his thumb at a door on the right, so I take the one across the hall. I slip inside and into darkness.
This must be a vampire sleep room. The windows are covered with blackout shades, and even with a werewolf’s sight, it’s hard to tell whether anyone else is present.
I inhale deeply, catching scents of vampire and human. A gruff voice says, “Hey,” and I move toward it.
“Quiet,” I murmur, hoping I can compel him without looking him in the eye.
There’s a rustle of fabric, and a dim light illuminates a large bed, an armoire, and an upholstered blanket chest. A man blinks at me from the bed, his hair sleep-matted, the dark smudge of a bruise at the base of his throat under the late-day shadow of his beard.
Not so young, then.
His bed partner, a woman, is very pale and very still. Vampire. She’ll likely rise soon, especially if her companion raises an alarm.
“Are you here willingly?”
His lips twist in a sneer. “Fuck off.”
Assuming that means yes, I capture his gaze with mine. “Forget,” I say, imbuing the word with my will.
He blinks again, then burrows into the bedding, curling around the vampire, and I make a quick exit. Rob is in the hallway.
“Anything?” Rob asks.
“A vampire and her dinner,” I say tersely. Some mundanes want to be vampire food, and he looked old enough to make his own decisions. “We don’t have time to interview everyone we find. Look for the young ones.”
“There’s two in there.” Rob points to the room he’d visited. “Young males, both scared of whoever is in charge of this mess.”
“What did you tell them?”
“To stay put and that we’d be back to get them as soon as we could.”
“Good.”
A noise draws our attention to Will, who is still playing lookout at the bend in the hallway. “Someone’s coming.”
Rob and I duck into the room where I’d first seen the young woman.
She’s still here, along with a second girl who truly couldn’t be more than twelve years old.
The young man who’d been with the vampires at the party lies on a king-sized bed draped with a velvet spread, starkly pale and very still against the ruby coverlet.
The two girls scuttle into the corner, eyes wide and terrified. The young man doesn’t react at all.
I crouch down so I’m eye level with the girls. “On my honor, I will not hurt you.”
Neither of them says anything, though the older one wraps her arm more tightly around the younger girl.
“Someone’s arguing with Will. Male, probably a shifter, not sure what kind,” Rob says, his words sharp. He’s holding the door open a crack so he can watch what’s going on. “They’re coming.”
He stands aside and I hold my finger in front of my lips, hoping the girls will stay quiet. I take a position in front of them, balanced on my toes, hands loose, ready to fight.
Will gets shoved backward through the door with a hand on his throat. The shifter follows him in. The man I’d seen by the pool. The one who reminded me of Marcus.
As soon as he crosses the threshold, Rob grabs him, covering his mouth. “If you make a sound, I will snap your neck,” Rob growls in his ear.
The shifter’s eyes narrow, and he pulls a blade from a sheath on his belt. He takes a swing, and I’m across the room with his wrist in my grip before he can do much more than graze Rob.
One of the girls screams, a short sound she quickly stifles. I glance their way, hoping no one heard her. Scowl fierce, Will drops the glamour and grabs his black case where Rob dropped it, pulling out a ball gag and a pair of zip ties.
“Let’s take this playing piece off the board,” he says. I pin the shifter’s arms and, locking his gaze in mine, tell him to be still.
We’ve got him trussed up in a matter of moments. The blood from the wound on Rob’s thigh makes me angry. He catches my look. “It’s nothing.”