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It was the only lead she had to find the Blood Opal, and he knew how much she wanted to get it back.
His wolf side warned him to be cautious.
And he knew his wolf was right.
New and raw emotions that mixed with fear and the need to claim what was his—what he knew, deep down, was his—put him in a precarious position.
He warned Channing not to run at things without thinking through, without letting his wolf take the wheel. And here he was…wanting to do the same thing.
Kodiak wanted to run into it without seeing, let the red mist of rage come down and take over. Push his wolf into where it could do the most damage.
Yet his wolf was the very thing warning him to be careful.
He laughed a little at that. Because it was stupid, back-to-front. But lucky for him, he could pull back and keep hold. Lucky for him, he had experience.
Even so, he couldn’t quite control the uneven beat of his heart against his ribs, the churn in his gut.
He pulled out of the parking space abruptly, ignoring the angry horns blasting from cars behind him as he sped down the street. What he needed to do was get there.
Kodiak ran red lights and weaved between lanes as he headed toward the vampires’ lair. There was caution and urgency, and there was stupidity. He had to walk that fine line. Get to her side as fast as he could, and then he could get them out of it.
And if any of those filthy vampires dared to hurt her, he’d go on a murderous rampage.
Just before he reached the Blood Moon Nightclub, Kodiak slowed the car, thinking.
No one was about, because this was deep vampire territory, he could smell that in the air even if he didn’t know it.
But it was more than that. Deeper than it ever had been. Instead of this merely being a place they played and fed and made money, it was a…nest? Something sacred?
Something soaked in blood of a different kind.
He shivered as he drove down the road, turning around a corner early to remain out of sight of the building. Last thing he needed was to draw their attention needlessly.
He opened the glove box and found an old tube of scent masker and applied it, hoping the contents would still be okay, and that there was enough.
But ultimately, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to turn away because through it all, through the stench of the vampires and that deep, unsettling feeling, she was here.
Tamaska.
A bright, fresh aroma on the breeze, something he wanted to draw down deep.
But he didn’t.
For a minute, he forced himself to sit in the car and breathe deeply to center himself on the task and not the woman. He was about to enter the home of his enemies, so he needed his faculties and his stone-cold reasoning.
Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, he observed the street. With the sun starting to dip and the shadows lengthening, the time of the vampires would soon be here.
They’d awaken, grow confident, hungry, and as soon as the sun disappeared below the horizon, step out. At least, that’s what they had always done… Wait until the night and then hunt and feed. Until, possibly, now.
He wasn’t going to deny the power of the opal and what it might do. But he didn’t know how long it took to hold, or even reach, its potential. The vampire earlier might have been an anomaly, able to come out during the day because of the opal, yes, but it might have been a risk. The Blood Opal’s power could be unstable.
What was the saying? Hope for the best and expect the worst.
But this was the time of day where night wanted to fall, and traffic, even here, should be more—or existent.
It wasn’t.
And though he could sense Tamaska, her trail ended here.
