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He bobbed his head toward the kitchen door again. "That was the kitchen?"
"Yep."
"I'm going to get something to drink."
I followed him inside and waited by the door while he inspected the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of water, unscrewed the top, and took a long drink. When he was done, he tossed the empty bottle and cap in a recycling bin, then nodded toward the door again. I was about to push it open when I froze. The exterior door at the end of the hall had been opened again, and I could hear voices moving toward us down the hallway.
And this time, a metallic buzz accompanied them.
It could have been something simple - shifters who carried weapons as part of their normal course of business. But this just felt . . . wrong. Silently, I held up a hand to stop Ethan, then pointed at the door, then my ear, then held up two fingers. He nodded, moved forward, and put his ear to the door.
"You think you can take him out?" asked one of them.
"Damned right. The faster we get it done, the faster the money's in hand, so I'm definitely gonna take a goddamned chance at it," whispered another. There was venomous anger in his voice.
"Huh. I just don't know if we can make this work tonight. Not like he wants us to. There's a lot of goddamned bodies gonna be in that room in a few minutes." Ethan arched his brows at me. I nodded.
The footsteps moved closer.
Weapons, I silently told him. Guns or knives, I don't know. But they're heavily armed.
Then let's move, he replied.
Ignoring the nervous flutter in my chest, I went first, pushing through the kitchen door. The two men - both in jeans, boots, and leather jackets - jumped as we appeared, hands moving toward their waists. I assumed they were reaching for guns.
"Gentlemen," I said, flipping the thumb guard on my katana and lifting it from its scabbard just enough to reveal the gleam of steel. "What's happening?"
They looked at each other, then at me. "We have business here, vampire."
"Yeah, I get that. The problem is, I'm getting the sense your kind of business won't be good for the rest of us."
The one on the left - shorter, balding at the edges - took a half step forward. He flipped back the side of his leather jacket, revealing a handgun stuck into the waistband of his 1980s-style jeans.
At the sight of the gun, I dug my fingers into the handle of my katana to keep my hand from shaking. I'd already been shot twice this week; I wasn't eager for more.
"Honey, why don't you and your boyfriend here take your little knives and go for a nice long walk, all right? This ain't your concern."
"Problem is, hoss," I said, unsheathing my sword and enjoying the widening of their eyes, "it is our concern. It sounds like you have some kind of issue with the leader of the Pack, so to speak, and he's a friend of mine."
The taller one - younger, cuter, but just as egotistical - elbowed his friend. "I'll take this one." Get behind me, I told Ethan, as the younger guy took a step forward. He reached inside his leather jacket and pulled a matte black handgun from an interior pocket.
"You're cute," he said, "so I'm gonna give you one more chance." He waggled the gun in our direction.
"Take a goddamned hike, and we'll go about our business and everyone's happy. Right?"
I had no doubt he'd pull the trigger. He was the type - brave to the point of stupid; narcissistic in a completely self-defeating way. And although he knew we were vampires, he clearly had no understanding of what that really meant - that a bullet, though it might hurt like a son of a bitch, would be pretty ineffective in taking me down.
I rolled my eyes and rotated my wrist to turn the sword, then pulled out a threat that Celina had once used against me. "I'll have you down before you can snap off a shot."
"Bitch," he said.
It was the last thing he said.
He lifted the gun, then raised his other hand to support it. But I was already moving. I rotated my body, bringing my leg around in a sweeping high kick that knocked the gun from his hands. It hit the floor and slid behind me, and I felt the air shift as Ethan reached for it. I completed the rotation, then shifted the weight of my sword and thrust the handle into his chest as hard as I could. In what seemed like slow motion, he umphed and fell backward, hands clawing at his breastbone.
By the time he hit the ground, I'd righted my katana and held it before me, then glanced over at his shorter friend. "What about you, bud? You wanna try me, too?" Eyes wide and panicked - the air thick with fearful magic - he took a few shaky steps before turning for the exit. But help had arrived - two blondish Keene brothers stood before the door, arms crossed and knowing gazes on the traitors in their midst. They must have sensed the trouble - or Fallon had sent them out here to keep an eye on me and Ethan. Bright girl.
"Excellent timing," I said, keeping an eye on the man on the floor until they could reach him. Both taller and brawnier than the interlopers, they had them in hand in a matter of seconds.
"We do what we can," said the Keene brother on the left, a grip on the collar of the man I'd knocked down. "It occurs to me we haven't met. I'm Christopher."
"Ben," said the other one, who had the neck of the older man beneath his arm. The man struggled in the awkward position, but Ben didn't bat an eyelash. I grinned back. "Lovely to meet you both," I said, then glanced back at Ethan. He stared at me, his eyes pools of quicksilver. I guessed I'd managed to impress him.
"Not bad for a 'common soldier,' hmm?" I quietly asked, then resheathed my katana and headed back toward the chapel. I could feel his gaze on my back as I walked away, so I decided to play it up. I paused at the sanctuary door, then looked back over my shoulder and smiled vampishly through hooded eyes.
"Coming?"
Without waiting, I walked inside.
Now that, my friends, is what we vampires call a good exit.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LET'S GIVE 'EM SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT
The chapel was nearly full when we returned, the room abuzz with enough magic and weaponry to give me a caffeine-esque buzz. Gabriel stood behind the podium, chatting with Adam and two other unfamiliar shifters. As we walked toward him, I noticed our would-be company men sitting in a pew, the box across the lap of the man who'd carried it in, both chatting politely with the shifters beside them.
"We need a minute," Ethan told him, and Gabriel excused the others.
"I heard there was commotion in the hallway?"
Ethan nodded. "We may have found the men who took the contract. We overheard them talking about the money and the hit. And they were well armed."
