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“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It’s the name of a cold, stormy wind that blows down through the Alaskan mountains. It means trouble. Run.”
“You and Rafe have a secret code?”
“Most of the time he just sends me ‘Zephyr,’ which is a light and playful breeze. That means he’s gone to wander for a bit. Don’t worry. But when Williwaw came up, I knew Rafe had been attacked. I’d been pulling my things together when you arrived, so I’m guessing they are going after all of us. Assuming they’ve got Rafe and Marcus, I believe they will keep them alive until they have me and Winter.”
Returning to the electronic panel, Bel typed something in and a panel in the wall across the room slid open. Ethan walked over to it to find a ladder leading downward into total darkness.
“Who the fuck are you?” Ethan demanded. “Why doesn’t Marcus’s house have all this cool shit?”
“Because Marcus didn’t spend ten years building his house. Start going down. Lights will kick in when you reach the bottom, I swear.”
Shoving the gun into the pocket of his jacket, Ethan took a fortifying breath and gripped the metal ladder. It was cool to the touch but solid. He kept his eyes straight ahead as he started descending, cursing himself the entire way for ever believing that Bel was the boring one. There was no “boring one” in the Varik clan. Sure, Marcus was the most straitlaced and normal-appearing but get him behind a closed door, and the vampire was sexually insatiable.
And absentminded professor Beltran with his cello and distracted gaze had a secret escape tunnel and blood-destroying bullets. Why not?
As Bel had predicted, lights flickered on near the floor when Ethan reached the bottom two rungs of the ladder. The hard soles of his shoes hit the concrete floor, the resulting sound echoing through the open space. He stepped back and looked up to see Bel climbing down the ladder. He was still wearing his white lab coat, which only made Ethan smile.
“I’ve got a car this way,” Bel said, motioning down what looked to be a long, narrow tunnel. “We have to assume that Winter has already been grabbed. I haven’t been able to reach him, and he seems to think that Aiden is in Europe.”
“So, we’re on our own,” Ethan murmured.
“Not quite. We still have Rafe’s friends.”
Ethan kept his mouth shut. He didn’t know what to expect when it came to Rafe’s friends. His first thought was that they were a bunch of lazy, fun-seekers who took nothing seriously and certainly wouldn’t know how to handle themselves in a fight.
But then, he didn’t expect Bel to have a secret tunnel or weapons. It didn’t matter to him. If it got Marcus safe and sound and back in his arms, he didn’t care if they invited a bunch of Navy SEALs to the party.
An hour after escaping Marcus’s house, Ethan found himself pulling up in front of a…yarn store. Ethan rubbed his eyes and blinked a couple of times, but the vision didn’t change. It was a large boxy building with the big sign in pink script that read, Knitters’ Paradise.
“You’re fucking with me,” Ethan said, ending the silence that had stretched in the car.
“What?”
“I thought we were meeting with Rafe’s friends. The same Rafe who owns nightclubs and spends his evenings drinking and fucking. You just pulled up in front of a craft store.”
Bel gave a little shake of his head. “I couldn’t go to Rafe’s club. It’s the first place they’d look for us.”
Killing the engine, Bel got out of the car and Ethan had no choice but to follow. God, it was like Marcus had slipped him something with his dinner and he’d fallen down Alice’s drug-induced rabbit hole. Bel raised his hand to knock on the glass door, but someone was already there unlocking it. They were both waved inside, and the door was closed behind them.
Ethan glanced at the woman dressed in leather and chains like she’d stepped out of some sub’s wet dream. He wasn’t sure if she was dressed for a night out or a rescue. Guess it really didn’t matter.
“Ethan, this is Lola. An old friend of Rafe’s,” Bel introduced. “She moves with Rafe and is his partner in the nightclubs.”
“You’re a Varik, then,” Ethan said, extending his hand to her.
Her beautifully arched eyebrows lifted nearly to her hairline and she slowly took Ethan’s hand. “If Rafe ever asked me, I would be. You’re Marcus’s not-pet pet.”
“Boyfriend also works,” Ethan said with a smirk.
They continued into the dark store past aisles of different types of colored yarns, needles, hooks, pattern books, artificial flowers, and fabric. It definitely looked like a crafters’ paradise. At the rear of the store, there was a long table that was probably used to cut fabric. Four other people were standing around, watching them approach.
