Chapter 30
Thirty
When Julianna informed him that Damon had holed up in an art museum, he was sure that the bastard had lost his mind.
It would have made more sense to get out of town and away from humans.
But as Winter stood outside the structure, taking in its Gothic castle-like facade, he understood the building’s allure.
If the Variks were going to attack Damon and his men, then they had to lay siege to a fucking castle to take out the king.
Kneeling in the damp grass outside the building, Winter frowned at the collection of buildings. The Wadsworth Atheneum was made of five connected buildings ranging from Gothic Revival to late modernist. All of them were arranged in a square with a central, enclosed courtyard.
They’d spent close to an hour going over the layout of the building, but with the waning night working against them, there was no avoiding a full-frontal assault.
Luckily, they had numbers on their side.
Aiden had summoned the full force of the Varik and Montgomery clans as well as the Moon and Novick clans.
Several others had volunteered to join the fight.
They also had a number of werewolves on their side from the local shifter pack.
And then, they had Winter’s collection of weapons to play with.
Winter’s job was the initial distraction. Once he got inside the building, he was to search for and free Fox. After that, it was only a matter of finding Damon and claiming the fucker’s head.
Of course, they had no idea where Fox was, where Damon was, or how many fighters Damon had on his side.
They didn’t know what they were heading into, and fear sat heavy in Winter’s stomach.
He worried for his brothers and their mates.
For the first time, Marcus was permitting Ethan to join the fray.
It was his right to fight for his clan and his future, but God help anyone who so much as breathed in Ethan’s direction.
Marcus was ready to rip their head off with his bare hands.
Bel’s wolves looked just as feral when it came to their absent-minded professor, but they were in for a surprise. Winter had seen the type of ruthlessness Bel was capable of when it came to protecting his family. And there was no telling if he had any “science experiments” hidden on his person.
And Rafe was just an evil fucker when he wanted to be.
He had yet to see Aiden in a fight, but then a vampire didn’t live as long as he obviously had without knowing how to handle himself.
No, his family was going to be fine. He needed to keep his focus on finding Fox. He wished Julianna had been able to give him some direction when it came to locating his missing witch.
The cell phone clutched tightly in his hand vibrated and Winter looked down to see the text he’d been waiting for.
Ready.
He glanced over his shoulder at the collection of vampires and werewolves that had chosen to follow him into the building.
They were the distraction team. Bel grinned at him while his hands rested on the furry backs of Wyatt and River.
The massive wolves looked more than ready to take a few vampires apart.
Pulling on his power, Winter disappeared from sight, slipping into the world of the dead as he left cover and crossed the street.
He briskly walked up to the Main Street entrance of the Wadsworth.
There were only a couple of vampires loitering outside of this entrance, keeping watch for attackers.
Ghostlike, he moved in behind each, appearing long enough only to bury a blade into each vampire’s throat before disappearing again.
There was a cough, a gasp, and then one by one, bodies hit the ground with a loud thud.
Winter barely stopped moving, his eye always turned toward the doors.
At the entrance, he was forced to drop fully into the world of the living, but he’d brought a present.
He attached the explosive device to the doors and smiled broadly at the vampires standing on the other side.
With a wink, he set the timer and disappeared.
He ran around the side of the entrance, using the thick stone structure as cover as the device exploded.
The force of the blast was relatively small, just enough to blow through the locks on the door.
The main purpose of the blast was the smoke that rolled through the opening.
Lifting his face cover into place, Winter stole into the building.
He moved deftly back and forth between worlds, slaughtering one attacker after another without ever being seen.
More than two dozen vampires and even some humans poured through the first-floor lobby, and more were moving away from the adjacent entrance on Atheneum Square to fight the invaders. Which was just fine. Aiden and Marcus would be bringing in a second wave through that entrance any second now.
Unfortunately, Winter couldn’t wait around to enjoy the ensuing melee.
Disappearing once again, he jogged through the building, quickly searching for signs of where Fox might be held or even where Damon was hiding.
He wouldn’t attempt to take out Damon until Fox was safe, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t send out a quick text to his brothers about Damon’s location.
He was silent as he moved quickly through the building, passing contemporary art before moving reverse in time to early Chinese and then Renaissance art.
The smoke didn’t seem to reach very deep into the connecting buildings, and he hoped they did little damage to the collection of priceless works.
As he passed a door leading into the center courtyard, he paused and peered into the darkness, but there were only a few vampires crossing the courtyard to join the fight. Fox wasn’t being held there.
At the next right turn, he found himself passing through a cute little café filled with small tables and chairs.
A hint of coffee and bleach hung in the air.
He found a few humans huddled together with guns, their backs pressed to the main counter as if they were afraid the Vampire Boogeyman was going to sneak up on them from behind.
It was tempting to prove to them that the Boogeyman could get to them no matter what, but he kept going.
Winter hesitated as he entered the final building to find the battle fully engaged.
Aiden’s group had made it into the museum and were fighting back Damon’s men.
Shouts were mixed with angry snarls and fearful cries.
Blood splattered across smooth marble and flecked delicate works of art.
The only thing that kept Winter moving was that it looked as if Aiden’s army outnumbered Damon’s.
But there was nothing to be gained by killing Damon’s minions. They had to reach the mastermind and his lieutenants. There was no doubt that Damon would have Paavo or Christopher with him. Winter preferred to see all three vampires slaughtered, but two would be enough to topple Damon’s army.
Fox wasn’t on the first level. The map had shown two more upper levels as well as a theater in the lower level.
At the stairs, Winter hesitated, balanced on the balls of his feet, before he finally headed down.
If Fox wasn’t in the theater, Winter would be able to quickly backtrack and head to the second floor.
His heart pounded in his chest as he took the stairs as quickly as possible. He needed to find his Fox, but he also needed to join his family in the fight.
As he came off the stairs, he saw only a couple of vampires waiting for him.
It gave him hope that his witch was down here if Damon was bothering to keep a few guards on the lower level.
With knives clenched in both fists, Winter darted in and out of the world of the dead, slicing up each vampire before they had a chance to react.
There was no stopping him. There was no escaping him, but at least he tried to make their deaths quick.
When their bodies cluttered up the floor, Winter stood panting, trying to quiet the screams in his mind.
He didn’t want this, didn’t want to be this monster, didn’t want to face Fox covered in the blood of so many dead vampires.
Fox was a good, sweet man. He didn’t hurt other people.
He didn’t kill. But this was the world Winter was bringing him into.
Fox deserved better.
But first, he deserved to be free.
Shoving away his tangled emotions, Winter approached the double doors that led into the theater.
He peered through the small window in the door and his heart stopped.
Fox was there, tied to a chair in the center of the stage with a bright spotlight shining on him.
Obviously, he was bait. Behind him stood Paavo with a knife pressed to Fox’s slender throat.
Winter didn’t bother to disappear. It was clear he was expected.
Winter pushed open the door and slowly walked along the center aisle.
His heart was pounding so hard, he could feel it in the back of his throat.
Sweat slicked his palms, adding to the stickiness created by the blood.
He yearned to race forward and slice Paavo to ribbons, but he wasn’t faster than the vampire.
Fox’s throat would be cut before he even reached him.
“What’s your plan, Paavo?” Winter asked in a low voice as he inched closer to the stage.
He remained in the darkness of the theater.
The vampire holding Fox was blinded by the spotlight, and he had to wonder whose brilliant idea that was.
He understood making sure the bait was well lit, but there was no point in putting himself in a weakened position.
“Don’t take another step, Winter!” Paavo snarled.