He didn't answer, but I'd barely taken a breath when his hand hit my shoulder, sending me flying as he slammed the door shut behind us. There was a thump on the other side, as if a body had hit it. Hard. But the handle didn't slid downward. Maybe creatures who held no real substance couldn't open doors—though they sure as hell could cause real enough damage to flesh.
Claws might be good against flesh, concrete, and rock but they are of little use against steel. His hand wrapped warmly against my upper arm. Your leg bleeds profusely.
It's not deep, and we can't afford any more delays. The words were absent as I climbed to my feet and looked around. We were in a corridor lined with doors. Given there were no aromas other than age riding the air, it was pretty safe to guess they were empty. At the end of a corridor was another containment door, but this wasn't like the others we'd passed so far. It was more the type seen in movies about ships and subs. It had a wheel lock in the center that had to be turned to open or close. As far as I knew, doors like those had been phased out decades ago, which lent weight to Quinn's earlier statement that this area was far older than the cartel's usage of it.
I am a vampire. Though Quinn's mind-voice was soft, it held a note of censure. I blinked, taking a moment to realize he was answering my earlier statement. I control my base needs, but I am not made of steel, and I cannot forever ignore such a delicious odor.
Call me a dolt, but I'd actually forgotten the blood would call him. I shifted shape immediately, then motioned him forward. And here I was thinking you only took blood while making love.
For blood as sweetly addictive as yours, I would make an exception. His gaze briefly met mine. I have done so in the past, remember.
Images of him licking the wound on my wrist came to mind, and desire skittered across my skin. Who'd have thought the touch of a vampire's tongue on a non-intimate place such as a wrist had the power to make a woman orgasm like that?
Not me. And it was an experience I wouldn't mind repeating—just not here, not now.
No. He grasped the wheel and spun it. There was a soft click and the door opened, smooth as butter. But later, most certainly.
You're awfully certain there is going to be a 'later'.
If there's one thing I know about werewolves, it's that they are easily addicted to good sex. The fact of the matter is, I give good sex.
I gave a mental snort. And a whole lot of arrogance.
After over a thousand years of refining my technique, I have a right to the arrogance.
It's just a shame that a thousand years of living didn't also teach you tolerance of other race's beliefs and practices.
Amusement ran through my mind, as warm as a summer breeze and just as enticing. I left the door wide open for that jibe.
Yeah, he had. So why was he amused rather than annoyed? That didn't run with what I'd seen of him so far—though, I guess I hadn't seen a whole lot of the real Quinn. Just the "gotta avenge my friend at all costs" Quinn.
And that one was hard enough to resist. I'd be putty in his hands if he actually turned on the charm for a change.
Somehow, I'm doubting that.
His voice was wry and I grinned as I edged around the corner. More darkness, corridors, and labs. Only this time, the air was warm, and heavily layered with scents that were either human, organic, or chemical in origin. And accompanying the scents, voices—men and women chatting softly. There appeared to be no concern that the darkness was anything more than a simple blackout, which was good. It meant they wouldn't be as watchful as they should be.
A soft noise caught my attention. I looked at the left-hand corridor, zoning out the drone of conversation and concentrating on the noise coming only from that corridor. Again I heard it, clearer this time—the whimper of a child.
Dia's kid. Had to be.
I padded into the darkness, my bare feet making little noise on the cold white tiles.
How many hearts beat in the lab directly in front?
He paused, then said, Three, not including the child.
Can you hold the adults, make them see nothing, while I rescue the kid?
Doing so as I speak. Amusement filled his voice as he added, Not that I think they'd be taking much notice of anything else but each other at the moment anyway.
I opened the lab door and saw what he meant. The three adults—two men and one female—had obviously decided to put the darkness to good use, because they had a little menage à trois happening. The expression on the woman's face said she was enjoying every minute, and why wouldn't she? Having every need attended to so thoroughly by several willing men was bliss—though for me, personally, the whole bum entry thing just didn't work.
I looked past them and saw the small room at the end.
Inside the solitary small crib was a tiny child whose aura was so bright it forced me to blink.
Hurry, Riley. Our time is almost up.
I hurried. But only to the doorway. Starr was sick enough to set up some sort of trap to protect his hostage on the off chance that the power went off.
I couldn't see anything out of place. I stuck an arm through the doorway, and nothing happened. No alarms, no bombs, no traps. I walked over to the cot.
The child inside was the image of her mother—white on white—except for her eyes. They were the most amazing shade of violet I'd ever seen. And not only that, the kid seemed aware. Like she knew why I was there, and what I intended.
There were no wires attached to the little girl, but given Dia said her daughter had been booby-trapped, I wasn't about to pick her up until I was very sure it was safe.
I gently felt her limbs and little body, trying to see if there was anything implanted, then did the same to the area surrounding the cot. It wasn't until I looked underneath that I saw the sensors.
I looked in Quinn's direction. He was looking at me rather than the free floor show, which was a little surprising given his earlier flirtation with voyeurism.
It looks like the cot is rigged with explosives or something. Can you search their minds and find out where the kill switch is?
There had to be one, simply because Dia was allowed to cuddle her child once a week.
Light switch near the door is the trip. He paused. Lucky you didn't just lift her up—it's powered by the backup gen, same as the security doors.
It figured. Once I'd flicked the switch, I wrapped the child in her blanket and lifted her up. She didn't say anything, didn't do anything, not even wriggle or whimper at being picked up by a sweaty, bloody stranger. She just looked at me with those amazing eyes of hers.
Seeing too much, as her mother felt too much.
A shiver ran through me. Maybe Starr wasn't just keeping this child for ransom reasons. Maybe he also wanted to know what was going on inside her head. Because something definitely was.
Jack wants me to blow this lab if possible.
I've instructed one of the lovers to reset the switch as we leave, Quinn said. The cot will blow instantly, and it'll give us cover and time to escape.
And Starr might just think someone got careless.
Perhaps.
Quinn sounded doubtful, and I can't say I blamed him. I cradled the little girl close and walked back to Quinn. The threesome on the floor where reaching the heights, their moans becoming louder and louder.