“Yes. Rafe will go with me to the second floor.”
“We’ll take the third,” Marcus agreed.
“Try to take at least one of them alive for questioning, dear brother.” There was no missing the sneer in Winter’s voice. Philippe turned his head to say that he didn’t care if they slaughtered all of Ezra’s attackers, but Winter was nowhere to be seen. Marcus was jogging toward the building, but Winter…Winter had simply vanished.
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go,” Rafe said. He released Philippe and led the way into the building. Philippe bit back the question of what the fuck happened to Winter and followed on his heels. Now wasn’t the time.
The first floor was largely closed off against the elements, making the interior incredibly dark. From what Philippe could see, the space contained concrete support pillars and wood framing. Wires threaded through some of the frames, but the electricians were far from done. Tables made from planks of wood and sawhorses dotted the landscape, but it didn’t look like there were any tools. Probably locked up to stop thieves. It was surprising that the entire site wasn’t better secured.
At the far side of the first floor, they spotted a dark staircase leading up to the next floor. Philippe darted across the room, inwardly wincing at the noise his pounding footsteps made on the concrete floor. Every noise seemed to echo.
“Was Ezra out alone?” Rafe asked.
“Yes. Hunting.”
“I thought you said no one was allowed to leave the house alone. No hunting solo.”
Philippe sighed and paused at the foot of the stairs. He twisted around to glare at Rafe in the thick darkness. Even though his eyes were more like a cat’s since becoming a vampire, he still couldn’t make out all of Rafe’s features in the shadows, but he got the impression his companion was frowning.
“I didn’t put those same restrictions on Ezra, Jullien, or myself because I thought we were more than capable of handling a threat. I hadn’t considered that someone would be coming after an Arsenault in such numbers.”
Rafe grunted. “When this is over, I’m seriously considering moving into Arsenault Manor just so I don’t have to think about you ever leaving the house alone.”
Philippe was torn between joy at having Rafe in his home and bed at every second of the day and angrily reminding his lover that he was a clan leader. He was perfectly capable of watching his own back.
But he would have made the same argument for Ezra.
It was better to ignore him and his own annoying thoughts for now. They weren’t helping Ezra or getting them any closer to finding out who was threatening the Arsenaults.
With his stupid tire iron in hand, Philippe charged up to the second floor as silently as possible. He looked around as they reached the floor and frowned. There were more walls in place here. Solid, concrete walls for the elevator shaft and other walls for offices possibly and the mechanicals of the building. His gaze darted in both directions of the wide hall they’d stepped into, trying to figure out which way to turn when a low growl echoed from the right. Not a sound from a human or even vampire throat. It had to be from the wolf that Winter had mentioned.
“Wish I called Bel,” Rafe grumbled under his breath. “He could have talked to the dogs.”
They hurried in the direction of the sound, no longer caring if the other vampires could hear their footsteps echoing off the concrete walls and flying out into the open air through the poorly covered windows.
Ezra was backed into a corner, holding a broken chunk of a two-by-four in front of him like a sword. Two vampires stood in front of him, blocking his escape. And yes, one of the vampires was flanked by two of the biggest wolves Philippe had ever seen. One had a thick black coat that seemed to absorb any bits of stray light that happened into the room. The other was a mix of white and gray. Just a tiny bit smaller than his companion, but he seemed to make up for it with viciousness.
The other two vampires they had sensed were nowhere in sight. Philippe vainly hoped that they were up on the third floor with Marcus and Winter, but he wasn’t going to stake his life on it. They needed to take care of the two they could see and get the fuck out of there.
“Who are you? Why are you threatening a member of the Arsenault clan?” Philippe demanded.
The vampire accompanied by the wolves glanced over his shoulder at Philippe, and a sneer curled his upper lip. The man was less than six feet tall with long brown hair and dark eyes. His body was lean and appeared as if it was made of hard muscle, but he didn’t move to attack.