Page 110 of Blood Taken (Blood Mafia 2)
"Come on, Hunters. We need to find Mateo." Evelyn snaps her fingers at X and Tyra, who have stopped sparring and are leaning against the ropes. "You too, let's go."
X looks like she wants to tell Evelyn to shove her demands where the sun doesn't shine, but Tyra elbows her before she can get the words out.
"We're coming," Tyra says, smiling at her to smooth over X's scowl.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mateo
I have a pretty good idea who might've taken Lacey and Alissa.
Sisco's a sore loser. He wanted Alissa.
I'm not sure why he'd take Lacey, other than to make us hurt. He's accomplished that. Grayson's beating himself up for not protecting the little witch better.
Never mind it's not his responsibility. Though he's been irrationally attached to the creature since he saved her from the dark witches. She reminds him of his long dead sister.
Unlike Evelyn, Grayson's sister died at the hand of their father. Grayson fled his home. I found him a few years later and rescued him from his pathetic life as a homeless human. I guess I understand his attachment.
If someone killed him, I'd tear the world apart.
I don't know if Lacey is dead, but he should be prepared for it.
"We don't know how we will find her. Will you be all right if things turn south?"
Grayson's gaze is sharp and hateful. He stares at me over the desk. "She's not dead."
Demi shifts in the seat next to him.
Colt and Evelyn look at each other, sad looks painted across their features.
The Hunters sit on the couch across from them. They don't look particularly comfortable.
I don't particularly care.
"I understand, Grayson. We need to prepare for the worst—"
"No!" he shouts, standing and slamming his fist through the top of my desk. The wood splinters around his arm.
This is my fifth desk this century. Usually Colt is the one destroying things.
"Grayson." Demi's voice is soft and soothing.
He whirls on her and I stand, prepared to intervene though she won't need the help and I doubt he'd actually attack her. He's upset is all.
"I'll be back later," he says between gritted teeth.
Demi's face falls when he flashes away and the door slams into the wall, leaving a knob imprint behind.
"He's not mad at you."
She lets out a heavy breath. "I know."
I glance at the clock. "It's four-thirty."
We’ve spent all day trying to piece together what’s happening.
"Fuck," she says. "I'll go change."
