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And kept all things crossed that I hadn’t just tempted fate as I said that.
“I’ll stay here,” Monty said, appearing oblivious to the undercurrents. “It’s unlikely our basilisk will do a U-turn, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“I’ll need to borrow the rattletrap’s keys then, because I’m not walking home from here. Oh, and Belle said to bring something to eat back with you.”
“You can borrow my truck,” Aiden said. “The rattletrap isn’t safe.”
“I am offended on behalf of said rattletrap,” Monty retorted, the annoyance in his tone countered by the twitch of his lips. “Her brakes were fixed a week ago.”
“Good. Now fix all the other things wrong with her.”
“Hey, she’s street legal.”
“Only just.” Aiden tossed me the keys. “I’ll walk around from the station to pick her up once I’ve written up the reports.”
I nodded, pocketed the keys, and forced my feet to walk away from the man rather than toward him, as they wanted. It took me close to thirty minutes to get back to the road—it was too damn hot to hurry and there was no way I was going to risk heatstroke by doing so. Especially when the only water I had with me was holy water—something I’d have to remedy before I went out next time.
Therewouldbe a next time, and probably sooner than any of us wanted.
I tossed my pack onto the passenger seat, started up the truck to get the air-con going, then leaned across and opened the glove compartment. Aiden usually kept a selection of chocolates in there for me, but all I found were several small bottles of water and a dozen or so muesli bars. Which was better than nothing and no doubt due to the fact that the internal temperature inside any car or truck parked outside for very long generally skyrocketed, meaning chocolate would have melted within minutes.
I grabbed a bottle of water and a couple of bars to munch on the way, then threw the truck into gear and did a U-turn, carefully driving out of the forest before turning left onto the road back to Castle Rock.
I made my way through the backstreets to avoid some of the traffic, then once again parked outside Émigré. Magic buzzed around the building, the dark threads currently thick and easy to see—at least to those of us capable of doing so, anyway. The two guards remained at the door, neither of them sweating or even remotely looking uncomfortable, despite how oppressive the heat had become.
I grabbed my pack and climbed out of the truck. They watched me hurry across the melting tarmac and opened the door without comment.
It was so damn cold in the building that the sweat dotting my skin basically froze on the spot. I shivered and made my way through the plastic.
Maelle stood in the middle of the dance floor—which was no longer fire-stained concrete but overlaid instead with wood—frowning up at the ceiling. She was dressed in black, and it highlighted her paleness while emphasizing the deep richness of her lips. Vamps generally didn’t need to feed any more than a few times a week—though I’d gotten the impression drinking small amounts from her feeders during their sexual encounters heightened the pleasure for her—so she’d either had an encounter very,veryrecently or she was “bulking” up her feeding regime in order to ensure she was strong enough to counter whatever Marie threw at her.
“I apologize for the temperature,” she said, without looking at me. “It appears we have a problem with the thermostats. Would you like a coffee to take the chill off?”
“I’d prefer tea, if that’s possible.”
She nodded and continued to gaze at the ceiling. I couldn’t help looking up. A man hung precariously in midair working on the innards of what looked like some sort of control unit. He wasn’t supported by harnesses, ropes, or even a metal platform. He was supported by Maelle. By her magic.
Magic I wasn’t even feeling.
Fuck.
If she could hide her magic, then undoubtedly her maker could as well.
Fuck, fuck,fuck.
We were in an even bigger shitload of trouble than any of us had imagined.
So basically, it’s business as usualcame Belle’s comment.
I snorted mentally, and the tension that had briefly risen eased. Which was a good thing, considering who I was standing next to. It was possible I might have misconstrued the reason for her lips’ color, and a hangry vampire was not something I wanted to be getting on the wrong side of right now.
Or anytime, really.
The vibration of movement whispered through the floorboards—though I heard little in the way of footsteps—and I glanced around. Roger approached us, holding a tray that contained a teapot and a cup on a saucer, all of which were classic Royal Doulton, and a wineglass that contained a thick red liquid I very much suspected wasn’t wine.
“Please, let us sit,” Maelle said as Roger glided past us and headed for the only booth that was complete.
The electrician continued to hover. I hoped for his sake Maelle didn’t get distracted.
