Bound to Shadows (Riley Jenson Guardian 8)

The trapdoor was located in the far corner. I crawled through a final strut and grasped the latch handle. There was no sign of body heat in the room immediately below, and little in the way of noise to give away the position of the second guard. Not that much else could be heard over the racket erupting from the front.

I pried the cover up and looked down into the white-tiled bathroom. The air here smelled warm and moldy, and there was a pile of damp towels thrown into the corner near the shower. Obviously, the guards weren't into washing.

There was no one in sight. I listened for any indication of where the other guard might be, but the house was quiet - if you ignored the music and two men yelling out the front, anyway. I flared my nostrils, drawing in the more distant flavors, trying to find some hint of the other man's location. Cabbage and cooking meat were the most intense scents filling the air, but underneath that ran the foul scent of vampire.

It wasn't strong, meaning he was probably several rooms away, but that was close enough to hear me - or, rather, hear my heartbeat. So why hadn't he come running?

Maybe Quinn was doing a better job of distraction than I'd thought.

Praying that it kept that way for a few seconds more, I grabbed the sides of the manhole and dropped down lightly, my rubber-soled shoes making little noise as they hit the tiles. I stayed in that half-squatting position, my heart racing as I listened again for any hint of movement.

Again, there was nothing. I crept forward, still half crouched. My barely healed leg protested, and pain slithered through my muscles. I ignored it and continued on.

The scent of vampire was stronger near the door, and seemed to be coming from the right. I couldn't see the blur of his body heat in the immediate vicinity, though, which was odd.

I risked taking a quick look into the hall. It was empty of life and unlife. There were three doors to the left, two of them open, the other dead-bolted. No need to guess who lay behind that door, I thought grimly. The only real surprise would be her condition. I had no idea what Blake's orders would have been for Lyndal, but given that he probably had measures in place to kill us all the minute anything went wrong, he might not have cared what the men did to her as long as she remained able to talk to Evin.

A shiver ran through me. For Evin's sake, I had to hope that I was imagining the worst. That she was fine and unharmed in any way.

And tomorrow, pigs might fly.

I brushed the thought aside and slipped out into the hallway. The stench of vampire suddenly seemed stronger, and though I could hear no sound, instinct warned me he was on the move.

The stairs were to the right. I stepped across the hall and, keeping my back to the wall, crept toward them. The vampire scent was getting stronger, and my nose twitched in distaste. I still couldn't hear him, but then, Blake had the money to hire the best.

He'd hired Kye, after all.

For the first time since I'd killed him, my soul didn't ache at the mere thought of his name. The emptiness remained - would probably always remain - but the pain and the hurt were no longer knife-edged. Maybe my decision to commit to Quinn had been exactly what I'd needed - what my soul had needed.

I stopped several feet away from the corner, with a hall table between me and the stairs. I reached out and carefully picked up a vase of long-dead flowers. The vamp had to know I was here - he'd hear the beat of my heart even if he was as blind to body heat as I seemed to be - and he'd come around that corner fast. So I needed something to distract him with.

I waited, breath caught somewhere in my throat, for his approach. When it came, it was lightning fast. One minute the hall was empty, the next minute there was a long, thin stretch of vampire hunkered down in the middle of it holding a gun.

I swung the vase and let it go. Dead flowers and foul-smelling water flew, soaking the carpet. I jumped forward, following the vase with a kick. He ducked both and pulled the trigger. I twisted out of the way, felt the bullet burn past my hip, and lashed out, my clenched fingers taking him under the chin, throwing him up and back but not knocking him out. He hit the carpeted floor hard and his gun went flying.

I leapt for it, my fingers latching onto the barrel even as he caught his balance and lunged for me. I didn't have time to shift my grip to the trigger so I simply twisted around, smashing the weapon against his face with as much force as I could muster. Flesh and bone gave way under the impact and he went down, but he was still far from out. I scrambled to my knees and hit him in his throat with the side of my hand. His eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp.

It wouldn't last long. Vampires were too tough to be immobilized for very long - even by a blow that would have killed a human.

I switched the gun's safety on, shoved it into the waistband of my jeans, then took a moment to rub at my leg. There was no blood and the wound hadn't split, but the ache was deep and relentless, despite the numbness that still ringed the actual wound.

But I guess if that was the worst aftereffect of getting shot with silver for the umpteenth time, then I could consider myself lucky.

I grabbed the vamp's arms, lifting his head and shoulders off the floor, then dragged him down the stairs. The other guard hadn't come up to investigate the gunshot, so I had to presume Quinn had managed to grab him outside.

Indeed I have. His thoughts rolled through mine, warm and amused. It appears my acting skills are not as rusty as I thought. Did the other one manage to wing you?

The bullet barely even scraped my side.

Which, knowing you, probably means there's a hole the size of a fist in your body.

I laughed and hauled the vamp down the last step, then dragged him across the foyer to the open front door. Quinn was standing on the porch, his arms crossed as he watched me. The other guard was propped up against the thick white columns.

"I've dealt with the first guard already. " As I stepped over the door threshold, Quinn took the vamp's arms and jerked him sideways, depositing him rather roughly beside the other guard. Not that either man deserved any form of gentle treatment after the hell they'd put Evin through. "Neither of them will remember our arrival or notice their captive is missing. "

"Good. " I glanced down at my side. My sweater was torn, but the wound was little more than a scratch and there wasn't even much blood. Which was probably a good thing, considering how much I'd lost before Harris had removed the silver bullet. "Has either man got a key on them? Lyndal's door is chained and padlocked. "

He patted down both guards, then shook his head. "Nothing in their pockets. Check the kitchen or their sleeping quarters. "