Page 10 of Marked
The Glock appears in my hand. He never blinks. “I’m not in the mood, demon.”
Gage runs a hand over the back of his neck. “Vlad is MIA, too, Cap,” he says, deep voice barely audible over the thumping beat from the speakers. Almost as though he can already see the repercussions of speaking. “We tracked him to the back alley of Carnage, but the only thing T caught was exhaust.”
Tanner nods. “Newer model, probably an SUV. Smoke was pure, though.”
Horan sits forward from his place beside Caine, both men utilizing the shadows to the best of their ability. His gold irises glow. “We’re running out of time. You need to call Markus.”
I swear and pour another scotch. “The King has better shit to fucking do, track? We find Vlad before the next delivery.”
They nod.
That last shipment of ‘deathespecial‘ sent too many supes to the fucking grave. It’s only a matter of time before another batch comes in. And if we can’t stop Vlad before then ... His next target will be the humans. Just because he fucking can.
Lilah’s crushed face filters unwanted into my fucking skull, like I summoned her.
My lips peel back over deadly fangs. “The fucking humans are going to be next. Just wait.”
Gage pulls another hand-rolled from his leather vest and lights it. The end burns fiery red as pungent smoke fills the space. “Leads left?”
I scoff. “Not a fucking one.” I look up, glass of amber liquid in hand. “Which means we need to find another one.” They exchange long looks. “We hit Carnage in ten. That human male—Vic, maybe he knows who Vlad really is.”
T smiles. “He seemed like the type to keep real good records.”
Knocking back the rich liquor, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and rise. My eyes lock on the waitress, and she sets her tray down without a word.
I look back at the four other men in the booth. “Ten,” I warn.
The waitress appears out of my peripheral, hands empty and already reaching for the ties on her top. I snare her wrist in a vise hold and haul her with me to one of the closed off stalls. Her breathing turns to a pant as I turn her to face the wall. The slim skirt hikes up over her thighs, flashing stockings and garters. I ignore the flash of her scent, dewy with arousal. It’s not that kind of hunger. Or it is, but not towards her.
Baring the line of her neck with a handful of those thick, dark waves, I widen my jaw and feast.
***
Carnage is dark and quiet as I slide under the police tape. Without the noise of the patrons and music, it’s depressing. All the imperfections are visible, like an old prostitute in full light. The dented tables, toppled chairs, and watermarks seem to glare.
“The fuck happened here?” Caine mutters as he prowls under the empty overhang. His hellfire eyes track over the remnants of the raid, scoping out the scents and the wreckage.
T pushes over a broken beer pitcher with his steel-toe. “Fucking cops, yo.”
Gage comes out from the back hall, Horan tight on his heels. He scours the room, nine mil tight in his grip. “Place is empty, Cap.”
Lack of pulse beats was a dead giveaway. “T?”
He whips out a slim device from his back pocket and holds it up to his ear. “Already on it.” His voice drops an octave into a sultry growl as he speaks to someone from booking. Probably the thick blonde he’s had eyes on for weeks.
“We got no witnesses, and no paper trails,” Gage says as he approaches. “Looks like someone hit the place before we got here. But there were marks on the brick in the alley.”
“Someone after the same shithole we are?”
He shrugs. “Maybe. No sign of arcane entry, just good ol’ B&E.”
“Office?”
“I want T to check the tower, but from what I could get into, it was whipped clean. Or never had anything worth piss on it.”
“If this guy is as heavy into shit as he seemed, he was smart enough to cover his tracks.”
Horan holds up a discarded scrap of blue lace on the edge of his sword. He frowns. “Think I found part of the club uniform.”
