And maybe there was something she could do. Elise drew to a halt at the rain-spattered window. Her breath steamed the glass as she peered out, desperate to know where her son might be.
With a burst of resolve, she pivoted around and went to the closet to retrieve her coat from where it had been since several winters past. The long navy wool covered her widow's whites, falling down around her ankles. Elise put on a pair of pale leather boots and left her quarters before fear could call her back. She dashed down the stairwell to the door at street level. It took her a couple of attempts to punch in the correct security code needed to unlock the door, for she couldn't remember the last time she'd been out of the Darkhaven property. The outside world had long represented pain to her, but maybe now she could bear it.
For Camden, she could bear anything. Couldn't she?
As she pushed the door open, chilly sleet stung her cheeks, carried toward her on a rush of cool fresh air. Elise braced herself, then walked out, down the brick steps with their wrought-iron railing. On the sidewalk below, thin clusters of people passed, some huddled together, others walking alone, dark umbrellas bobbing with their hurried gaits.
For a moment--the smallest suspension of time--there was silence. But then the ability that had forever been her bane, the extraordinary skill that came in unique form to every Breedmate, pressed down upon her like a hammer.
--I should have told him about the baby--
--not like they're going to miss twenty measly bucks, after all--
--told that old woman I'd kill her fucking dog if it shit in my yard again--
--he'll never even know I was gone if I just go home and act like nothing's wrong--
Elise brought her hands up to her ears as all the ugly thoughts of the human passersby bombarded her. She couldn't blot them out. They flew at her like so many winged bats, a frenzied assault of lies, betrayals, and all manner of sin.
She couldn't take another step. She stood there getting soaked with drizzle, her body frozen on the walkway below her Darkhaven apartments, unable to will herself to move.
Camden was out there somewhere, needing her--anyone--to find him. Yet she was failing him here. She couldn't do anything but hold her head in her hands and weep.
Chapter Nineteen
Dusk came early that night, ushered in on the steady spit of a cold November rain coming down from a fog of thick black clouds. The Flats section of Boston's Southie neighborhood--probably nothing special to look at during the day, with its thickly settled collection of aluminum-sided duplexes and brick three-decker tenements--was reduced to a wet, colorless slum under the monotonous deluge.
Dante and Chase had arrived on Ben Sullivan's dilapidated block about an hour ago, right after sunset, where they still waited in one of the Order's dark-windowed SUVs. The vehicle was out of place here simply on the basis of its well-tended appearance, but it put off a distinct don't-fuck-with-me vibe, which helped keep most of the gangbangers and other street thugs from coming too close. The few who had wandered near the window to have a peek decided to move on in a hurry after getting a flash of fang through the glass from Dante.
He was twitchy for all the waiting and half-hoped one of the idiot humans would be fool enough to make a move just so he could work out some of his idle energy.
"You're sure this is the dealer's address?" Chase asked from beside him in the dark front seat.
Dante nodded, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "Yeah. I'm sure."
He had considered paying this visit to Tess's Crimson-dealing ex-boyfriend by himself but thought he' d better bring along some backup just in case. Backup for Ben Sullivan, not himself. Dante wasn't at all sure the human would be breathing when he was finished with him if he'd come alone.
And not just because Sullivan was drug-dealing scum either. The fact that the guy knew Tess, and no doubt knew her intimately, flipped a trigger on Dante's rage. An unbidden sense of possession stole over him, a need to protect her from losers like this Ben Sullivan person.
Right. Like Dante himself was some kind of prize.
"How did you find it?" Chase's question cut into his thoughts, snapping him back to his mission. " Aside from seeing the human jackrabbit out of the club ahead of us the other night, we didn't have much to go on as far as IDing him."
Dante didn't even glance over at Chase, just lifted his shoulder in a shrug as memories of his hours with Tess swamped his senses in vivid recall. "Doesn't matter how I got it," he said after a long minute. " You Darkhaven suits have your methods; we have ours."
Just as another wave of itchy impatience flooded through him, Dante caught a glimpse of his quarry. He sat up in the driver's seat of the vehicle, glaring out into the dark. The human came around a corner, head down, face partially shielded by a gray hooded sweatshirt. His hands were thrust into the pockets of a bulky parkalike vest, and the guy was walking fast, throwing continuous looks over his shoulder as if he expected trouble on his heels. But it was him, Dante was certain.
"Here's our man now," he said as the human jogged up the concrete steps outside his flat. "Let's go, Harvard. Look alive."
They left the vehicle on alarm and followed him right into the building before the door closed behind him, both Breed males moving with the speed and agility that came naturally to those of the vampire race. By the time the human stuck his key in the lock of his third-floor apartment door and pushed it open, Dante was shoving him into the dark, tossing the guy across the spartan living room.
"Motherfu--" Sullivan came up out of his crash on one knee, then froze, his face caught in a wedge of light from the bare bulb glowing in the hall outside.
Something flashed in the human's eyes, something beneath his immediate fear. Recognition, Dante thought, figuring he probably remembered them from the club the other night. But there was anger there too. Pure male animosity. Dante could smell it seeping out of the human's pores.
He slowly got to his feet. "What the fuck's going on?" "How about you tell us," Dante said, willing a lamp to come on as he strode farther into the place. Behind him, Chase closed and locked the door. "I'm pretty sure you can guess this isn't a social call."
"What do you want?"