“Vash.” He kept the video off and held the phone to his ear. “News?”
“The team of six I sent arrived this morning and they’re already sweeping through what’s left of your list of known Grimm haunts. They have orders to gather what intel they can and pass it along to you. You’re primary, so stay available.”
“Of course.”
She snorted. “You could’ve been hunting last night.”
“Yes. And probably should’ve been. But it’s my time now, Vashti. After all these years, it’s finally my time. I’m not wasting it hunting down a crazy bitch who won’t be found until she’s ready.” He heard the doorbell ring and pulled on his jeans. “I rattled her cage yesterday. She’ll be crawling out soon, because she’ll want to deal with this on her turf and I’ve threatened to leave. I bet she makes a move by tomorrow, and I’ll be out today making myself as easy a target as possible.”
“I’ve emailed the cell numbers of your team. Touch bases with them and-”
Raze killed the call when Kim entered the room with a dozen Black Beauty roses. There was laughter in her eyes and a mischievous smile on her lips.
“I guess this is a hint,” she teased. “I’m glad you approve of my oral skills, since I certainly enjoy-”
Shoving his phone into his jeans’ pocket, he brushed past her on his way to the front door. “Did those just arrive?”
“Yes. Raze, are you-”
“Lock the door behind me. Don’t open it for anyone except me.” He was gone in a flash, taking the stairs at the end of the hall, his heart racing with a sick panic. He raced down the single flight of steps to the first floor and skid into the lobby of the apartment complex in his bare feet. The lone elevator car was empty and the doors sat open, but when he turned his head, he saw the logo’d back of the delivery person disappearing out the revolving glass door.
A female. Blond hair tucked up under her ball cap.
Bloodlust hazed his vision. Her ladyship hadn’t expected him to be there when she went after Kim and she was arrogant enough to forego the quick kill. She wanted to play, like she had with the Cubs fan.
He pursued, uncaring of his bare feet and chest. She was climbing into the back of an unmarked van when her driver-Lake-saw him. The vampress hit the gas, sending Francesca tumbling into the interior. Raze dove into the open doorway, tackling the baroness as the van jerked back into the flow of traffic to the blaring of horns and squealing tires.
She fought, her claws raking into his flesh, her fangs bared as she hissed like a wild creature. A gun went off, the bullet whistling by his head. Raze crushed her to his chest and rolled, using her body as a shield against the shooter in the passenger seat. Her ribs cracked in the vise of his grip.
Her scream pierced his ears. As Lake skid around a corner, they nearly fell out of the open van door. Gaining his knees, Raze threw Francesca backwards into the passenger, startling the man into firing. The bullet lodged in her back, her eyes widening with agony. Horrified by what he’d done the man dropped his gun and it slid on the metal floorboard into Raze’s waiting hand. He took out the minion with a shot to the head and grabbed Francesca by the wrist, yanking her into him so he could pierce her throat with his fangs.
As her blood pumped down his throat, he caught everything she knew-every plan she’d made, every minion she’d told about those plans. He learned the identity of the traitor who’d been providing her with Fallen blood and he knew how to find the names of those he needed to hunt. Not so many, but that wasn’t what disturbed him.
He released her before the silver poisoning from the bullet tainted the blood he drank. She slumped to the floor. Lake screamed and hit the brakes, sending him crashing back into the bench seat.
“Take another step,” he warned, straightening, “and I’ll kill you slow instead of fast.”
She paused, sobbing, standing in the apex of the open door and the body of the vehicle.
Raze gestured her back into the van with a jerk of the pistol. When she returned to the driver’s seat, he directed her to drive to Baron’s safe house.
CHAPTER 8
Francesca, Lady Seagrave, eyed the big vampire who prowled around the refuge she and Baron had created together and felt the hatred sizzling in her blood along with the silver that burned like acid. He was lost in the recording he listened to on her wireless headphones, his face a mask that revealed none of his thoughts. But he had to hear what she’d heard through the bugs she’d placed in his hotel room. The tenderness and affection that had developed between him and his mortal lover were evident in every word they spoke to each other, every breathless cry and pleasured moan.
It was going to wound him terribly when he lost her, perhaps even break him considering how long he’d gone without anyone being necessary to him.
The crash of something breakable shattering on the floor sent a jolt through her. There were others in her home; two men Raze had called to assist him. They were presently rifling through her things, watching the videos she’d made of certain memorable kills. They watched and listened with such horror, as if it was a surprise that a vampire should hunt prey. That’s what was fundamentally wrong with those in power of the vampire nation-they acted like animal rights activists who advocated vegetarianism, an impossible stance when ruling those who could be nothing but carnivores.
Mortals were food and sport. It was a joke that vampires should hide their existence and scrape for scraps to eat when there was so much to be had. The Sentinels were powerful, yes, but Syre had never once made an attempt to break out of their rigid boundaries. Who knew what they could accomplish? She and Baron envisioned a world in which vampires ruled as they should. She hadn’t Changed to live like this. What was the point of having so much power if you never wielded it?
Raze yanked the headset off his ears and shot daggers into her with his gaze.
Her mouth curved. “It’s my right to take her from you. Baron gave her to you as surely as if he’d introduced you. You wouldn’t have been in Chicago to meet her if not for us.”
“Were you planning on going through my entire black book?” he shot back. “Taking out every person I’ve fucked?”
“Oh no,” she crooned, nursing her vicious fury like a babe at her breast. “She’s special to you. Not like the others. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been at her place this morning. You would’ve taken what you wanted and left before sunrise. I miscalculated how quickly and deeply you fell for her, but it doesn’t matter. She’ll die, whether or not it’s my hand that kills her. You have so many enemies, Raze. She won’t last a minute in the grand scheme of things.”
Francesca had to give him credit, his face and body language gave nothing away. But she knew the impact of her words. Tossing her head back, she laughed.
“You’re a crazy bitch,” he said grimly. “I’m just wondering if you were always psychotic or if the Change warped your brain.”
“I Changed for him. We Changed for each other, so we’d always be together and you’ve taken him from me. And for what? You’re as much of a Sentinel pet as the lycans. Now you’ll lose something irreplaceable. You’ve finally found what you’ve been missing and it’s about to be ripped from you. I hope you’ll see what’s done to her. I hope you watch while she’s cut and torn and broken. I hope her screams stay in your head-”
There was a split second in which she registered the gun in his hand. And then there was nothing.
Raze studied the baroness’s slumped head with icy detachment. She remained upright courtesy of the ingeniously heinous chair he’d found in her home-a chair with silver-plated spiked manacles at the wrists and throat, and a bottom and back with blades that protruded or retracted via a handle on the backside.