Page 9 of Blood Taken (Blood Mafia 2)
So, I narrow my eyes at her then follow after Nicole. When I pass by, I hear her let out a soft laugh. My shoulders tense, but I decide to let it go. If I snap at her, she'll only be happy to know she's gotten under my skin.
The inside of the building reminds me of an old office. We walk down a long hallway, the doors to the rooms we pass are all closed. It is nearly three in the morning, so most people are probably sleeping.
Nicole's waiting for me down the hall, her leather pants shining under the overhead lights. Her hands are on her hips and she watches me approach, then moves her gaze to my mother.
They share a moment, and Nicole nods as though she understands whatever it is she's saying to her. Nicole raises her fist and raps it against a closed door.
"Go away." The voice is deep but feminine, like the owner smoked too many cigarettes and as a consequence has a permanent husk to her voice.
"Open up, Quorana."
"Go to hell, Nicole."
I laugh. "Friend of yours?"
Nicole gives me an exasperated look, then knocks again. "Quorana, this is official business. Open the door."
Ah, there it is. The voice of my long-lost teacher. She surfaces within the fierce Hunter before me like a mirage; one second she's there, the next she's not.
"Don't make me break the door," she growls.
And the Hunter is back.
Maria huffs behind me. "You should have done that in the first place. The witch is unmanageable."
The door whips open, revealing a witch who looks all too awake for this hour. Quorana fits the new-wave witch stereotype to a T. Her brown hair hangs straight down her back, hovering just above her butt. She's wearing a dark orange dress which hits mid-thigh, and over it is a long black lace cardigan. She has on spiderweb tights and high-heeled black boots that go past her knees. Her nails are painted burgundy and her make-up is simple; the most elegant cat-eye I've ever seen lines dark emerald eyes. She doesn't look much older than me.
"What do you want?" Her green eyes zip over Nicole and my mother before landing on me. "Who's this?"
Nicole crosses her arms. "Demetria."
I feel my eye twitch. "It's actually Demi." I hold out my hand for Quorana to shake. She blinks at it, then places her soft fingers in mine.
When her grip on me turns hard, I try to yank my arm back but she holds fast, stepping close to me and sniffing. "Interesting," she murmurs. "You smell different."
I scrunch my nose. I'm not sure how to respond to that. To be fair, I did have Colt's blood all over me not long ago. I didn’t have time to shower so maybe she smells traces of that? Note to self: rinsing blood off doesn’t remove the smell.
I’ll be sure to do a better clean up the next time I stab someone.
"Quorana," Maria warns, and for once, I don't hate hearing her voice.
Those ruby painted lips curl into a sneer and she drops my hand. "No harm, no foul, Maria." She spins around, hurrying back into the dark room. There's a lamp covered by red fabric to dampen the light, giving the place an edgy ambience.
Actually, the jars filled with dead insects sitting across a wooden desk probably do that.
Nicole follows Quorana, stepping around a stack of books and a scattering of crystals on the floor. Maria nudges my side with her elbow to get me moving. I'm too weirded out to snap at her.
I move to stand next to Nicole. My eyes skate over the room, taking in shelves filled with herbs and ingredients I'd rather not think about—like rat tails—before zeroing in on the jars on the messy desk.
The insects aren't dead.
I shudder as the hair on the back of my neck stands to attention.
Quorana is rifling through the papers, clucking her tongue and muttering about something under her breath. "Ah, here. The guild sent over a notice. Demetria Barrera, the Hunter found schmoozing with vampires."
"I was not schmoozing," I say. "They kidnapped me."
She lifts a shoulder. "Potato, po-ta-to."
