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“Yes, Julian.”
26
Shea looked up at the eerie building with the painted black windows.
Colton was at her back. She leaned into him, wrapping herself up in his warmth and his protective air. It wasn’t the winter weather making her feel cold, but the foreboding and menace wafting off the abandoned factory.
She let her shields slip for just a second. Echoes of old hurts, deep misery and torment, slapped out at her. Some of it was not so old, either. Shea sensed pain and death.
This wasn’t Bloodlust.
This was Blood.
Colton placed his hand on her shoulder. Shea glanced back at him. His jaw was tight, a muscle ticking there as he ground his teeth.
“You don’t have to go in there.”
He felt it, too. Of course he did.
“What can you tell about what’s going on inside?” she asked.
Closing his eyes, her shifter breathed in deep. “Nightwalker nest, definitely. You can smell them all over the place. Blood and sex, but that was the same at the last one. They’ve got better proofing this time. I sense humans, but I don’t know how many. Something tells me this ain’t gonna be t
he same as the Nightclub.”
He was right.
They went in the front door together because Shea refused to return to the truck and wait. As if he really would’ve separated from her willingly on enemy territory. Once they made it to the nest, it was either both of them or neither, and neither wasn't an option.
Adam needed them.
Like in Bloodlust, there was no guard at the front door; or, if there was, they mingled with the rest of the others inside. The room was dark, dim, and gloomy. Smoke filled every corner, soft white blooms drifting past the rare spotlight.
No flashing lights. No music except for groans of pleasure, the sounds of skin slapping against skin, and slurping from the more messy eaters. She recoiled when she saw what they were walking straight into: a blood-drinking orgy where the vamps outnumbered their human prey.
Because in this place? They weren’t donors or Donors.
They were victims.
Colton looped his arm around her waist, tugging her close, shifting her so that her back was to a particular corner. Too late. She’d already seen the broken body and knew—just knew—that they’d been drained past the point of no return.
Reaching up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his jaw, whispering to her mate. “Is he in here? Have you found his scent?”
A jerk of his head.
Thank the Goddess.
No doubt that Adam had come to this place. Before they came in through the front, Colton prowled the area, snuffling to see if he could pick up Adam’s scent trail. He found it near the front, following it to the back entrance.
Colt had rolled his eyes when he realized that, but he refused to use the back entrance with Shea. They would go in through the front because, especially if the corporal got caught going in through the back, no one would be expecting them.
Fingers crossed.
Holding onto his shoulder, pressing her body against his thrumming chest, her lips to his throat, Shea tried to mimic the couple nearest to them while she searched the dim room with her eyes. Julian seemed like the type to give his people what they wanted while keeping himself separate. He wouldn’t be out here in the orgy, but he’d be close—
There.
She found the only other door in the ballroom teeming with writhing bodies. Across from the entrance, she saw a blonde vampire leaning up against it, her arms crossed over her ample chest, blonde hair spilling down the front as she watched the crowd.
