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Heading down the narrow alley between the buildings, they entered a small courtyard with a granite fountain in the center of the paved ground. The gentle splash of water was the only sound to disturb the heavy silence. Valen hesitated. The air was oddly oppressive. As if there was a thunderstorm approaching.
Dismissing the foreboding atmosphere, Valen moved to the back door, easily forcing it open. Then, stepping into what appeared to be a storage space, he turned to study the bare shelves. He assumed that’s where the auction items were usually kept.
“Nothing,” he murmured, leading Peri into the main room at the front of the building. There was a small platform at one end with a podium and a few velvet-covered chairs scattered across the wood plank floor, but there was an unmistakable sense of emptiness. As if the space had been abandoned. He turned to glance at Peri. “Can you sense any magical items?”
“No.” She tilted back her head, as if sniffing the stale air. “Which is weird.”
“Why weird?”
“If the auction house was here, then there should be some residual magic.” She paused, eventually making a sound of frustration. “I suppose it’s possible that someone came through with a cleansing spell.”
“You sound dubious.”
“There’s…something.” Her brow furrowed, her expression distracted as if she was struggling to pinpoint the source of her unease. “I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“Magic?”
Valen watched as Peri drifted toward the stairs at the back of the room, her fingers brushing the aged banister.
“The completelackof magic,” she murmured.
On the point of joining her, Valen stiffened as he caught the scent of a mortal female.
“A human is approaching the back door,” he warned.
“Hey, you guys!” the stranger called out in a loud voice. “I saw you go in there. I have a gun. If you leave now I won’t shoot.”
“I’ll deal with this.” Valen retraced his steps to the storage room.
“Not alone,” Peri predictably insisted, hurrying to catch up with his long strides.
Valen sent her an annoyed frown. “I’m bulletproof.”
With a lift of her brows, Peri deliberately lowered her gaze to where he’d been shot. “Not really.”
If it had been anyone else, Valen would have punished them for reminding him he’d recently had a bullet lodged in his backside. But since it was Peri, he didn’t mind having her admire his ass.
“Very well, I might not be bulletproof, but I’ll heal faster,” he insisted. “At least stay behind me.”
“Fine,” she grudgingly conceded.
Entering the storage room, Valen moved to block the doorway, folding his arms over his chest as a woman in her late twenties came to a sharp halt. She was tall and slender with well-honed muscles beneath the running shorts and T-shirt she’d probably been sleeping in. Her blond hair was pulled into a ponytail to reveal her wide eyes and nervous expression. In one shakyhand, she held a handgun that was currently pointed in Valen’s direction.
“We’re not here to cause trouble,” Valen assured her in low, soothing tones. He’d rather face a trained assassin than an anxious amateur with a gun.
The woman halted in front of him, her eyes widening with shock as she caught sight of his face. She released a tiny gasp and allowed her gaze to skim down his body, at the same time lowering her weapon. He didn’t need to use his ability to manipulate her mind to ease her fears. Her attraction toward him blinded her to any danger.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice breathy.
“Valen.” He glanced toward the mage peeking around his arm. “And this is Peri.”
“I’m Aline,” the woman murmured, her attention never straying from Valen’s face. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re searching for the Masque Salon,” he informed her.
She nodded. “It was here, but it closed down a couple weeks ago.”
Valen heard Peri mutter a curse, but he kept his attention locked on the human. She obviously had some connection to this place if she was willing to personally protect it rather than calling the cops when she’d seen them sneaking around.
