Page 77 of Shadow Hunter

Lucas gestured for her to follow him down a nearby hall. Voices erupted in open discussion behind them, heatedly debating Caius’s disappearance, as she walked toward what felt like her doom.

She followed Lucas to the end of the hall, where he held open a door to what had probably once been an office. She walked inside, and he followed suit. Adrenaline raced through her. When he closed the door behind them, the distinct sound of a dead bolt clicking into place sounded in her ears.

Shit-tastic sign number one.

Damon rodein the first of four E.U. vans. He sat next to the tech team leader, staring at the tracking screen. From what they could tell using their maps, a few minutes ago Janette had parked outside an abandoned warehouse near Brighton, a nearby suburb.

Courtesy of the silent hybrid engines, they surrounded the warehouse undetected. Though

Damon’s feelings regarding the raid remained steady and focused, his nerves circled around the thought of Tiffany in danger. He couldn’t push their earlier moment from his mind. She’d known exactly what he’d been struggling to say, and despite that the words had still refused to leave his mouth, she cared for him anyway.

Damn his stupid emotional inhibitions. If something happened and he’d never told her he loved her, he would never forgive himself. His failure would haunt him for the rest of his days.

No.

He couldn’t allow himself to think like that. Nothing would happen to her. Her safety was his highest priority.

“All units secured,” a muffled voice sounded over Damon’s handheld radio.

Damon pressed down the button for confirmation. “Copy. Tech unit establishing ground layout.”

Careful to not make any sound, one of his tech hunters slid open the side door of the van. He and two other hunters hopped out, the high-powered heat sensors in their hands. The three of them rushed around the building, hooking their equipment into place.

“Operative,” a voice whispered from outside the van.

Damon turned.

Shit.

The Sergeant was standing outside the van, dressed in full gear and—from the bulges underneath his short leather jacket—fully armed. He climbed into the vehicle and crouched next to Damon.

Damon gave a single nod to his commanding officer. “Evening, Sergeant.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Damon cleared his throat.

“With all due respect, sir, may I ask why you’re here?”

The Sergeant fixed Damon with a look that was half-annoyance, half-amusement. “What do you think I’m here for, Brock?” After a long moment, he said, “To make sure this goes smoothly.”

Damon met his eyes. “With all due respect, sir, I can—”

The Sergeant jabbed his finger into Damon’s chest. If he’d been speaking above a whisper, he would have been barking at Damon, as usual. “Don’t tell me what you can and can’t do, Operative. I know you can do this or I wouldn’t have put you in charge, would I? I’m here to make sure you don’t call ‘go’ too soon. I can’t have you getting trigger-happy. I’m no imbecile. You think I’m forgetting this is your first raid since we lost Solow? Not to mention his sister is inside there. That’s the woman you love, Brock. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

Damon frowned. Damn. The Sergeant had always been so friggin’ perceptive. It pissed Damon the hell off, but at the same time he respected the man for it. The Sergeant grated on his every nerve, but he was the man who’d made Damon into the hunter he was. For that, he was grateful.

Static crackled over the radio. “All secure.”

Damon flipped three switches connected to the second monitor. A shadowy green layout of the building appeared on the screen. Damon’s eyes widened.

“Damn. Don’t know if I’ve ever seen more bloodsuckers in one place,” the Sergeant said as he shook his head.

Damon scanned the screen. There had to be nearly thirty vamps in the main area and...

He paused.

Three on the far side of the building?

His heart stopped. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but…

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