“Yeah, just yesterday.”
“Okay, that’s good.” Cordell swiped his finger over the screen. “Do you have a lot of pictures or videos? Sometimes that will bog things down. Or too many apps.”
“You can check, but I don’t think so.”
“Nope, you don’t have half the pictures that some people have. You should see Arianna’s phone. It’s a mess.” He and Jackson exchanged a knowing glance.
As Cordell played with Mitch’s phone, Santiago scanned the small crowd. With the official part of the evening over, people had begun to leave already. There was Trace and his fiancée, Charlotte, talking to St. James and another man as they headed toward the main exit doors. He could just see Roxy from here, still near the stage with Mary Alice and a few other women. Another woman in a blue dress was approaching her, so it didn’t appear Roxy was anxious to leave yet. Santiago and his agents would wait until everyone was gone before they left as well, although maybe it wouldn’t hurt to send a few of them home now.
He turned to say something to them when he noticed that Cordell’s face went from chocolate-brown to ash and his mouth was ajar.
Mitch and Jackson started to ask him what was wrong, when he held a finger to his lips. “Nope, everything looks fine. Must be happening because we’re inside a building.”
He looked at them pointedly then mouthed, “Say something. Normal.”
Jackson and Mitch hesitated.
“Okay, that’s what I thought,” said Santiago, making up a reply.
A waiter carrying a water pitcher walked past them. Cordell grabbed it and promptly dropped the phone into the water.
“What the—”
Mitch lunged for the pitcher but Cordell held it out of his reach and mouthed, “Shut up.” Then pointing to Jackson and Santiago, he snapped his fingers and mouthed, “Let me see yours.”
“Not if you’re going to do that,” Jackson said in a loud whisper.
Santiago had no idea what was going on, but it had to be serious. Cordell was not the jokester Jackson was. The two men reluctantly gave him their phones and he started thumbing through the screens.
“Do you know which horse won the Mile?” Cordell asked. “I heard you had money on it again.”
Santiago knew this was just small talk. “Yeah, Slew Me Again won by two lengths. You should’ve seen him come from behind. I won $50 thanks to a tip from Kato. The guy knows his horses.”
“Okay, you’re both good.” Cordell handed their phones back. “Mitch’s was the only one affected.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Santiago shoved his phone into his inside suit pocket.
Mitch’s face went blank. “How? Why?”
“He had a hidden app installed on his phone,” Cordell explained. “Someone must’ve gotten access to it somehow.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Mitch said, almost to himself. “This phone is never off my person.”
“Well, someone got it off of you without your knowledge then. From what I could tell, it gave someone the ability to activate the microphone from a remote location.”
“You mean, someone could have been listening in on his phone conversations?”
“Not only that but—”
“How…how could I miss a strange icon being displayed?” Mitch ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, clearly still not believing what Cordell was saying. “I’m on that thing all the time.”
“That’s the problem,” Cordell said. “There was no icon. Just the program installed in the phone’s operating system.”
Santiago glanced around the room. “A listening device? A bug? But we have security measures in place to detect them.”
“Yes, sort of, but it used the phone’s hardware, so it’s not actually a bug that would turn up in routine checks. Much like the applications that use the phone’s built-in camera flash to work as a flashlight, this one used the microphone already there. The only thing hidden is the icon because someone didn’t want him to know it was there. Not only could Mitch’s phone conversations be heard remotely, but I’m imagining other conversations could be heard, as well. Anyplace he’s got his phone with him, the individual on the other end could activate the microphone and listen. Have you noticed that it needed to be recharged more often?”
Mitch had a faraway look in his eyes as he stared into space. “That’s how they knew.” His voice was hoarse, strained. “They knew where we were going to be and what our plans were because of me.”
“It would appear so,” Santiago said, feeling suddenly like a sitting duck. All of them.
Mitch continued. “If it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t have known about the warehouse raid. Dom and the others were almost killed because of me.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised if it utilized GPS coordinates, too, and could track your whereabouts.” Cordell held the pitcher of water up to look at the phone. “I can’t wait to analyze this further although I don’t know how much I’ll learn since it’s probably ruined, but it’s worth a try.”
Jackson thumped him on the back. “Look on the bright side, Mitchie. We found that traitor.”
Mitch looked like he might throw up.
Santiago’s gaze darted around the room. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
“How so?” Jackson asked.
“Darkbloods have been too quiet since we torched the sector mistress’s home.”
“And?”
“And, no doubt she’s been planning to retaliate. Wouldn’t you if your home were destroyed and your sweetblood pet taken? This woman is ruthless, bold and relentless. What better way to get back at us than at an event like this with Guardians, Council members and members of the vampire community here? If she’s been listening in on Mitch the whole time, she knows every detail about our security plans.”
Jackson looked around nervously. “I see what you’re saying. So what do we do?”
“We’ve got to get everyone out of here,” Santiago said. “This place is a prime target.”
“An evac?” Jackson asked.
“Yes, mobilize all the agents,” he said, calling over his shoulder on the way to the podium. “I’ll make the announcement, then we get everyone out of here as quickly as possible.”
The Guardians scattered.
“What’s going on?” Roxy asked, just as Santiago was getting to the stage. “You look worried and—”
“Take Mary Alice and get out of the building. Now. Head back to the field office and wait for me there.”
“Why? What’s wrong? What about you?”
“I’ll be there soon. Just go.” He grabbed the microphone, not at all sure what he was going to say. “Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention please?”
Ten minutes later, after checking in with all the other Guardians and finding that everyone, including Roxy and Mary Alice were safely outside the building, he made one last pass through the ballroom to make sure everyone was out.
Good. The place was empty. Maybe Darkbloods, or whoever bugged Mitch’s phone, hadn’t planned to do anything tonight in the first place. But it was better to be safe than sorry. He heard the sound of silverware and glassware through a small door at the back of the ballroom. Must be the staging area for the wait staff, but he jogged over there to be sure.
When he got back to the field office, he’d put the whole place on lockdown and have Cordell check—
“Well, what do we have here?” a woman’s voice crooned.
Before he could spin around, handcuffs snapped around his wrists and ankles and he was forced to the ground. Silver. He felt the energy drain at the same time that he smelled Darkblood stink. With a knee in the center of his back, he struggled as someone duct-taped his mouth and another forced a hood over his head.
“Don’t fight the inevitable.” Her voice was close to his ear, as if she’d gotten down on her hands and knees. “You’re mine now.”
Ventra. The Alliance’s sector mistress. It had to be.
Her voice r
eminded him of someone who was trying to calm a chicken right before its head was cut off.
The sleeves of his tuxedo were shoved up and something cold pinched the skin of his forearms. He heard what sounded like a hole punch right before he felt
the burn.
Aw, Jesus.
She was spiking his skin with silver—two in each arm—and energy poured out of his system.
He went as limp as a rag doll there on the floor behind the ballroom—he would not be able to move under his own power. Was this what Cordell had felt when he’d been paralyzed in that car crash as a human, unable to move his legs until he’d been transformed during the changeling process?
His thoughts were interrupted when two sets of hands hoisted him up and dragged him down what felt like a narrow corridor. They smelled like Darkbloods, so why didn’t Ventra? She smelled only of hair spray and perfume.
When they stopped, the bottom of the hood gaped open for a moment and he could see they were near the service elevators.
He was thirsty—man-in-the-desert thirsty, needing blood so badly that he could almost smell it. Through that small opening, he saw feet, then legs, then blood. They’d killed a human. But he was so weak right now, so desperate, that if he had even an ounce of strength left, he’d have dropped to his knees and lapped it up like a dog.
* * *
AS ROXY WAITED at the field office for Santiago and the rest of the Guardians to return, an uneasy feeling began brewing in her gut that she couldn’t seem to shake. After changing into jeans and a T-shirt, she was going to escort Mary Alice back to her room, but her stomach twisted again. She barely made it to the restroom in time. Anxious to get Mary Alice settled so she could go down and wait for everyone, she splashed her face and quickly brushed her teeth. All she knew was that there was a possible security breach at the hotel, but she had no idea what had happened.
“Morning sickness or something else?”
Roxy looked up to see Mary Alice staring at her as she exited the bathroom. “Excuse me?”
“Or maybe a little of both.”
She was going to deny it, just like she tried to do with Arianna, who’d guessed the truth as well, but she’d never been good at lying. Seemed she was better at detecting liars than being one. “How’d you know?”
Mary Alice wrapped her arms around her, the hug so strong it forced all the air from her lungs. “Well, for one thing, I could hear you getting sick in there. I’m not deaf, you know. Besides, I just knew the two of you were a good match and this proves it.” Roxy cringed. “Congratulations, honey. I’m so thrilled for you. And what does Santiago have to say about it?”
Feeling guilty, Roxy wriggled out of the woman’s bear-hug grip and slumped into a nearby chair. “Actually, I haven’t said anything to him yet. I…I haven’t quite come to terms with it myself. But I will.”
She quickly told her about Santiago’s views on settling down.
Mary Alice looked indignant. “Well, if he’s not interested in being a father and—”
“It’s not that. I think he’s afraid of doing the same thing his father did. He knows what it did to his sister and him. So I want him to know I’m okay doing this myself. He can visit us and the baby and I can visit him.”
Mary Alice tsked and rolled her eyes. “Then I might have to have a little talk with him.”
“No,” she said quickly. “Please…just…no. People do it all the time nowadays anyway. I don’t want to force him into doing anything. I want a relationship like my parents had and if I can’t have that, well…then I don’t want one at all.”
“If he doesn’t want you and this baby, then I want you to move in with me. Ginger’s already going to be upset not having a huge estate to roam and explore anymore. And she’s getting along so well with Barnabus, even though he still hisses at her once in a while.”
“But—” Her phone rang. She grabbed it quickly thinking it was Santiago, but it was Jackson.
“Roxy, is Santiago there with you by any chance?”
“He’s still over at the hotel.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “No, he’s not. We’re still here and uh…I think something happened.”
She jumped to her feet. “What’s going on?”
“We found a dead body near the freight elevators. Although I’m no tracker, Santiago’s scent is back there along with one or two Darkbloods.”
The world stopped rotating on its axis for a moment. She was instantly transported back to that night in Key West when she couldn’t find Ian. “Were there any—” She couldn’t even say the word.
“No ashes,” Jackson said as if reading her mind. “But we think he was kidnapped.”
“I’ll be right there.” She hung up the phone, shoved her feet into a pair of boots and grabbed her jacket. “Darkbloods have Santiago,” she told Mary Alice, “and I’m going to track him.” Realizing she had no weapon of her own, she eyed Grim. “Do you mind if I borrow this?”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
Twenty minutes later, she was back at the hotel, and Jackson was waiting for her in the ballroom.
“The freight elevator,” she barked. “Where is it?”
The moment she got there, she knew. Ignoring the human body, she definitely picked up Santiago’s scent and that of two Darkbloods. But there was someone else, too, and this smell was much subtler than the others. Not nearly as pungent. And there was something about it…
As they rode the elevator down, she inhaled deeply, filtering the scents again in an attempt to categorize them better. Two Darkblood males—yes, but then there was the female. Fully blooded from the dead human. Was she a Darkblood? Roxy wasn’t quite sure. Maybe. Maybe not. And the scent—except for the gorged-on-blood smell—was somewhat familiar.
Could the Alliance have a sympathizer somewhere in the Council ranks? Someone who wasn’t officially a Darkblood, but who subscribed to their beliefs? Such individuals did exist—people who lived the Council lifestyle but who secretly supported Alliance efforts when they could.
Hair spray and…cheap perfume.
Instantly, she recalled a woman at the party wearing a blue dress and coke-bottle glasses. Roxy had been at the buffet table when the woman walked by. All Roxy could think about was how strong her perfume was because it almost made her sick to her stomach. At the time, she had blamed the pregnancy for making her so sensitive, but it must’ve been the woman. What a horrible mistake she’d made not following her instincts.
“Jackson, are the teams ready to head out? Because Darkbloods definitely have him.”
“Yep. We’re ready.”
The elevator doors opened onto the service entrance and they sprinted down the alley to where the rest of the Guardians were waiting.
“There were two, possibly three others,” she said.
“Three? I thought you said there were only two Darkbloods.”
“Yes, but there’s someone else with them.”
“Did they take another prisoner?” Jackson asked. “I could’ve sworn all the guests have been accounted for.”
She told them about the woman.
“A sympathizer,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Or the sector mistress.”
The Guardians were gathered around several black-panel vans when Jackson and Roxy emerged from the alley.
Gibson stared at her, lines of confusion on his forehead. “What are you doing?”
Before Roxy could say anything, Jackson piped up. “She’s tracking them so we can get to Santiago.”
“But…you’re just his wife.”
Yeah, and I’m pregnant so you’d better not mess with me.
“Your point is?”
“You’ve got to be kidding. Come on, honey, leave the tracking to the experts. Go back to the field office where you belong and wait for us to do our jobs.”
Fangs elongating, internal temperature ratcheting up, she was going to rip his throat out and enjoy doing it. “Sorry you didn
’t get the memo, but I’m coming whether you like it or not.”
Suddenly Jackson was between them.
He grabbed Gibson by the collar, shoved him against the side of the building, flashing his own set of fangs. “She’s not ‘just’ anything. She might be the only one who can save him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE LIGHT BURNED. It was everywhere. Though he kept his eyelids pinched shut, the sunlight seared straight through to his eyeballs. No matter which way he turned his head, he couldn’t seem to get away from it. His wrists and ankles were shackled with silver, and he was spread-eagle on some hard surface.
“One piece of advice,” the woman’s voice crooned. “The more you struggle, the faster you expend what little energy you have left. Although I suppose if you want your death to happen faster, please be my guest.”
His lips were so cracked he wasn’t sure he’d be able to talk. How long had he been here? Judging from experience, he had to have been out in the sun at least five hours now. While he hoped he’d have built up a tolerance to those damning rays from the previous punishments he’d inflicted on himself, he’d never done it with silver spikes in his skin. Each tiny metal piece felt as if it were conducting the UV rays directly into his body. He didn’t think he had the strength left to lift his pinkie let alone his whole body.
“If you want to kill me, do it and be done with it.”
Ventra laughed. “Ah, he speaks at last.”
“Where am I? What is this place?”
“Just one of the dens I have scattered throughout the area.”
“Your place?”
“Oh, you thought you’d burn down my house and that would be the last of me? Sorry to ruin your day, but I’m not stupid enough to keep all my eggs in one basket. I didn’t get this far up in the Alliance without keeping a few hideouts around that no one knows about.”
He heard a rustle of fabric. Was she in a daysuit? Was that why she was able to be out in the sunlight?
“Speaking of my house that you burned down, I know you must’ve noticed all the bone sculptures.”
“They were grotesque…and demonstrate…your inhumanity.”
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