“Wake up and get out of here, Jerry,” she said in an unsteady voice.
“I’m sorry, Olivia.” His dark eyes filled with tears, and his slim body shook uncontrollably as he struggled to remain conscious. “I was going to call you, but didn’t want you to be mad at me for being big jerk.”
The cold hand of panic grabbed her by the throat as everything that Moriarty said came rushing back. Olivia clutched the front of Doug’s coat. “The girls and Damien.”
A sob choked her as it all came together.
“Oh my God.” Her wide eyes latched onto Doug. “The Maker—it’s Vincent, and he’s going to kill my family.”
Chapter 16
As they approached The Coven, Doug’s concern for Olivia grew with each passing moment. She kept trying to communicate with the girls since they left the apartment but was met with a deafening silence. Apprehension and worry rolled off her in thick waves, and when he suggested they get Pete, she balked at the idea. There was no time.
Doug could feel the pull of the sun as it began to rise. He hoped like hell that it wouldn’t weaken him, but he figured it would affect this asshole Vincent the same way. The only positive thing he could find in their current situation was that they still had a full set of ammo and a boatload of sterling silver.
When they reached the club, they went to the back entrance in the alley. Doug grabbed Olivia’s arm and turned her to face him. In the dim light he could still see her green eyes clearly, and they were hard, cold, and full of vengeance, but he also sensed fear. She was terrified that the girls and Damien were already dead.
“Wait a second.” He took her face in both hands and paused, wanting to choose his words carefully. She resisted. “Hey. I know we have to get in there, but listen to me for a second.”
Doug’s gut clenched as he stared into the pools of green. She always tried to act so tough, and when he saw her lose it back at the hotel, she revealed her vulnerability.
“I know you’re frightened and worried about the girls, but we can’t go running in there half-cocked. We need a game plan.” He dropped his hands and folded them over his chest, wanting to give her the freedom to take the lead, even though it went against his nature. “You lead, and I’ll follow, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“It’s quite simple really.” Her jaw set defiantly. “We get in there and see what’s going on inside the club. Then we blow Vincent’s arrogant fucking head off.”
“What about the girls?” Her stern expression faltered at his mention of the girls. “I know you don’t want to accept it, but it’s possible that they could be dead already.”
“No.” Olivia shook her head furiously. “They might be incapacitated, but they’re not dead. I’d know it, Doug. They’re a part of me, and I believe that I’d feel it if they were destroyed.” Her mouth set in a grim line, and her voice dropped. “I will not lose them.”
Before he could say another word, she spun on her heel, and instead of going to the door, she shoved the dumpster aside as if it weighed nothing, revealing yet another entrance to the network of tunnels. “You didn’t think I would walk right into the club, did you?”
Doug smiled and shook his head as they dropped silently into the tunnels beneath the club. They flew down the corridor and then up a flight of stairs, stopping outside her office, but Doug grabbed her arm before she opened the door.
I can feel movement in the building, and if I can sense them, Liv… His mind touched hers. Then they can obviously sense us, so I’d say any element of surprise is out of the question. He released the safety on both of his guns. “Ready?”
Olivia nodded once and drew both of her weapons. She hit the red panel to the left of the door with her shoulder while Doug stood ready with both barrels pointed at the door. She squatted below Doug’s guns and trained her weapons on the small office as well, but it was empty.
They slipped inside as the door shut soundlessly. Pounding music from the club filled the space, and he could feel the deep bass beat through his entire body. The club may have been closed, but it sounded like good old Vincent was having a private party.
Doug went to the door and listened intently, taking full advantage of his enhanced hearing. Even above the music he could make out the sound of a man talking. He didn’t recognize the voice, and he heard a woman weeping softly.
Anger fired through him as he fought his instinct to open the door and start shooting. He had no idea what condition the girls were in, and he didn’t want to jeopardize them further.
Olivia was at her computer and typing away on the keyboard, trying to pull up her security cameras. Motherfucker. Her voice shot into his mind with all the force she’d intended. He disabled my security cameras.
No more dicking around. Doug tilted his head to the door. I’ll go in first, and you follow. Vincent obviously wants you, and he is using your coven to get you. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced he hasn’t killed the girls. In my experience, guys like this want an audience, and if he were going to kill them then he’d want you to see it.
Olivia’s eyes widened briefly before her expression settled back into a mask of calm. Open the door. She rose from her chair and raised her weapons. Now.
Doug threw a prayer to the universe. He turned the knob slowly, then swung it open and pressed his body against the wall before peering around the corner. The hall leading to the main floor of the club was empty.
The music tumbled around them, and the lights flashed as though it was Friday night and the club had a packed house—but they knew better. Guns extended, Doug stepped through the door and moved slowly down the short hallway with Olivia at his side. When they reached the opening to the main floor, she stopped dead in her tracks, and he felt her begin to shake.
Trixie was lashed to the top of the bar with several ropes of sterling and looked passed out, if not worse. She wasn’t moving, and through the flashing, colorful lights, Doug could see smoke rising from her flesh as it burned beneath the silver.
At the center of the dance floor, her bouncer Damien was tied to a chair and gagged. His head lolled back, and blood soaked the white T-shirt he wore. Even with the music, Doug could hear the faint, dwindling sound of his heartbeat.
There was one other faint heartbeat coming from the German shepherd. Van Helsing lay bleeding on the floor by Damien’s feet, and his tail lifted briefly, acknowledging Olivia’s presence.
They inched farther into the club side by side, and as they reached open space, they shifted so that they were again back-to-back and ready to battle. Doug, facing the DJ platform, swore loudly when he saw Sadie. She had thick chains of silver wrapped several times around her body and tied to the platform.
“Rogue One is in here somewhere, Olivia.” His fangs erupted, and his body hummed with tension. “I can smell him.”
He could feel her strong, lithe body against his, tense and ready to spring into action. He admired her restraint. It had to tear her up to see the people she loved in agony, but to her credit, she kept it together.
“I smell someone else too,” she seethed. She stopped abruptly, and the muscles in her body tensed further. She turned her head to the left and shouted, “Where the fuck are you, Vincent? You’re a sick old fuck. You started this whole mess to manipulate me into coming back to England, didn’t you?”
Only the music responded as it continued to blare around them.
“Answer me, damn it!”
“You should know me better than that, Olivia.”
The male voice, edged with sadness, drifted over from the far side of the club. They swung around toward the voice and aimed their guns in the direction of the VIP booths on the other side of the dance floor. The rapidly changing colorful lights were messing with Doug’s vision, and for the first time since he was turned, his night vision was failing him.
He and Olivia moved toward the center of the dance floor.
“Vincent?” Olivia said sharply as she looked around the club. “You fucking coward. Show yourself.”
Seconds later, to the left of the VIP booths, a tall, regal man stepped out from behind a small wall divider. Doug fleetingly remembered that the hallway behind it led to the restrooms.
Vincent had his hands behind his back and moved toward them cautiously.
“Hello, Olivia.” His voice was etched with sorrow. “This is not what you think, my child.” His eyes widened when they landed on Doug. “My, my, my. I never forget a face, especially yours. The only human I couldn’t glamour.” His brow knit in confusion. “And here you are, and now you’re one of us? Fascinating.”
“Vincent?” Olivia’s voice was shakier as soon as she set eyes on her maker. “Why are you doing this?”
Doug tightened his grip on both guns as a glint of silver caught his eye. Partially hidden behind Vincent’s disheveled shirt and tie was a rope of sterling silver. It was wrapped around his neck, and Doug glanced down to see that the chain dragged behind him.
“Olivia,” Doug said evenly. “It’s not him. Vincent’s not The Maker. Look at his neck.”
As he uttered the words, Vincent’s face twisted in pain as he was yanked backward and fell to his knees. A man Doug had never seen before stood behind him, holding the rope of silver in one gloved hand and a gun in the other. Next to him was the little blond waitress, Suzie. She wept quietly as he pointed the gun at her head. Doug immediately sensed that she had been turned.
“Hello, Olivia,” the man growled. “Long time, no see.”
“Oh my God,” she said in a rush. “Brutus.”