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“Not good enough.” I pressed the point into his scrotum.
“No…” He thrashed on the rocky ground.
I shoved my face into Pascal’s. “Talk, you sonuvabitch,” I said, putting all the force of my dominance behind the question. “I’m through playing games.”
He was desperate and close to me in dominance, but I was fighting for Eden. The woman who meant more to me than anything in the world.
He wavered, then caved. “The south side of the island. There’s an old fishing shed—that’s the lair entrance.”
Cain growled. “Try again, mofo. I already searched the shed. There was no sign of a lair.”
“The entrance is hidden.”
I rose to my feet. “Then I guess you’ll have to come with us and show us where it is.”
“I’ve got him.” Cain slung Pascal over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. “You guys go. I’ll be right behind.”
35
Eden
The silver-reinforced door creaked open. My heart thumped against my ribcage.
“Time to go,” Esposito said, low-voiced. He grabbed my arm and urged me out the door. “Something’s up. If they see us, let me do the talking, okay?”
I dipped my chin in acknowledgment, blinking rapidly. Even the dim light in the hall was too much after so many hours in the dark. For the first minute, I had to rely on him to guide me.
When we reached a staircase, he mouthed, “Follow me,” and jogged up the narrow metal steps, me scrambling after him as best I could.
The door at the top of the stairs stood open. Esposito sniffed, shooting a frowning glance at me over his shoulder. That’s when I smelled it—the faint, acrid scent of smoke.
“That’s the only exit,” Esposito whispered, indicating a thick wood door at the far end of the hall. “We have to chance it. I’ll go first. Wait for my signal, then follow.”
For the first time I got a good look at his face. Yeah, this was definitely Talon’s father. Same dark curls (although Esposito’s were streaked with gray), same full lower lip, same deep-set eyes. But this man’s features were softer, weaker, the face of a man who usually took the easy way out.
“Got it,” I mouthed. “And thank you.”
With an odd little smile, he shoved his hands into his pants pockets and sauntered into the hall. Nothing to see here, people. The man could’ve been an actor.
He cast a casual glance around, then jerked his chin at me to follow.
I counted three doors ahead of us, two behind. If this was a vampire’s lair, it was a small one, and by vampire standards, bare bones. The walls were white-washed stone, the floor rough planks, the only lighting a half-dozen sconces shaped like hanging bats, electric tea lights cupped in their upside-down wings.
Esposito inched forward, me creeping after him. We passed the first door. The second.
The smell of smoke increased. At the end of the hall, a gray wisp snaked under the door and curled lazily through the air.
We were almost to the third door when it was thrown open. I froze. Esposito cursed and grabbed my arm, dragging me backward.
A blur of motion, and the vampire from the first night, his face a mask of fury, halted in front of us. I gulped. The contrast between his terrifying expression and elegant navy suit was disorienting, like an accountant had been possessed by the spirit of Cujo.
Esposito released me and raised his hands, palms out. “Lemaire. I—”
The thin, dark-haired vampire hissed. grabbed Esposito’s throat and squeezed. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Esposito scrabbled at Lemaire’s wrists. “Take it easy,” he choked out. “It’s not what you th—”
The vampire shook him like a rabbit. “It’s exactly what I think.”
