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4
Tarnley
The night air is heavy around me as I step out of the driver’s side of my car and into the parking lot of Eira’s club. It’s sparser than normal, likely due to the ruckus that brought me here. I cannot imagine most people want to see Eira pissed off. I sure as hell would run, too.
My footsteps pad softly against the pavement as I move closer, coming to a stop directly in front of the door where a large gargoyle shifter stands guard. “They are waiting for you,” he growls, stepping to the side.
Perfect.Because I don’t have enough going on with Bronywyn unconscious, I have to come in and deal with some asshole who’s likely running his mouth about shit he can’t even begin to understand.
As I make my way through the threshold, I notice the lack of supernaturals on the dance floor as well as the thin crowd lining the bar.
Something definitely went down, but thanks to Delaney’s cryptic message, I can’t be sure what until I figure out where I’m going.
“Hey-y-y there, h-h-handsome,” a female vampire slurs as she stumbles out of the room a few yards in front of me.
“Not your type,” I snap as I try to move around her.
Apparently, she doesn’t get the message. A body slams into me as she blurs forward, literally throwing herself on me. “You are m-m-most definitely my-y-y type.” The liquor is evident on her breath, though I know that’s not what put her out of her mind.
Her body would have burned it off already, which means only one thing: she fed on a drugged human. I lift my forearm and press it against her throat, then slam her into the wall. “Where’s the human?”
She isn’t even phased by the violence. Instead, she reaches up with a blood-red ripped fingernail and runs it along my jaw. “Why? You interes-s-sted?”
“Hardly. Just trying to decide if I’m going to turn you in to the hunter in the next room.”
That gets her attention. Her eyes widen, and she pales, frantically shaking her head. “Still alive, and he knows what he’s doing. Trust me, he gets his, too.”
Disgusted, I release her. “Get the fuck out of this club.”
The female staggers away, hand on the wall to keep her upright. Chances are, the human is either dead or passed out somewhere nearby. Drugged blood keeps us out of our head longer than anything else, sure, but her body will have shed the inebriation within an hour of ingesting it.
“Tarnley?”
I turn at the sound of Delaney’s voice to see her standing a few yards behind me, arms crossed, mouth flattened into a tight line.
“This way,” she says, gesturing to the left. I follow, mind reeling over all of the different scenarios that could have put that particular look on her face. The hall ahead is empty, but it ends at a staircase. I follow her, heading up and emerging into a brightly lit lounge room where Eira, Rainey, Cole, Fearghas, and Drexel are waiting. The scent of blood clings to the air, and it takes me less than two seconds to see where it’s coming from.
In the center of the room, strapped to a wooden chair, is a warlock. Blood drips from a massive gash on his forehead as well as his upper and bottom lip. One eye is swollen nearly completely shut, and based on the dried blood crusted to Rainey and Cole’s fists, I’d say it was them who had the most fun.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
“This motherfucker had a nice hand in torturing your girl,” Rainey snaps. “Figured you’d want a chance to hear what it is he had to say.”
Every part of my soul wants to lunge forward and rip his head off, but I stay rooted, choosing to cross my arms instead and focus every ounce of willpower onnotkilling him until I know exactly what it is he knows.
“I ain’t talking,” the warlock spits. Blood splatters the floor in front of him.
“Do I need to remind you of my no-talking policy?” Rainey growls.
He glares at her. “Unchain me, and let’s make this a fair fight.”
She snorts. “Please. There could be three of you bastards, and it still wouldn’t be a fair fight.”
“We’ll see about that,” he grumbles.
“We’ve already been through the shit-talking portion of our evening,” Fearghas quips. “How about we move past it already?”
“I. Ain’t. Telling. You. Shit.”
