Quinn was no longer at the door. I led the way down the street, following his scent, and heard an engine start up. Rhoan's car, not Quinn's. There was more room in my brother's car.
Quinn reversed out of the parking spot then stopped to let us in.
"Where to?" he asked, glancing at me as I climbed into the front. His eyes were alight with anger and concern, and just a hint of hunger. He might have fed off me earlier, but the smell of blood was on me, and it was teasing his vampire senses to life.
I gave him the address, then sniffed back the blood still running from my nose. "Sorry," I said, when I could.
He shrugged and shoved the car into gear, taking off so fast the tires squealed. "I am old enough to control my hunger, Riley. And there isn't that much blood." He glanced at the rearview mirror. "Though there deserves to be."
"Try losing someone you love and see how you react," Rhoan retorted.
"I have. And people died because of it. My point, however, is that Liander is not dead, and you should not be acting like he is."
"For fuck's sake, did you have to bring him along?"
For all the annoyance in Rhoan's voice, Quinn's gentle chastisement seemed to have some effect. The scent of fear retreated a little, and the anger and determination came to the fore. Hopefully, it would sustain him through whatever the next few hours had to offer.
Hopefully, those hours wouldn't contain death. Not Liander's death, anyway.
We sped through the darkened streets at breakneck speed, Quinn's sharp reflexes getting us through red lights and what traffic there was with equal ease.
The shattered sides of the old government housing block came into sight. Spots of light gleamed here and there, but mostly the building was dark. My gaze was drawn to the top floor. No lights shone there. But then, Vinny's room had been draped in heavy velvet and it was unlikely light would show anyway.
Quinn drove over the footpath and right up to the main doors. When he stopped the car, we climbed out. The scent of vampire spun through the air, thick and cloying.
"There's a lot of them in there," Quinn said, distaste touching his expression as his gaze swept the building.
"At least forty," I commented.
"How in the hell can one vamp control forty fledglings?" Rhoan asked in disbelief.
"She's not a blood vamp." I pushed through the shattered front doors. Footsteps scattered and the slight taste of fear touched the air. I glanced at Quinn as I began to climb. "Why are they retreating? They didn't last time I was here."
His smile was decidedly dark. "Last time you were here, you weren't accompanied by one of the old ones."
"They can tell what you are?"
"No. I'm letting them know what I am. Trust me, in an emo's nest, it's always better to advance warn what sort of trouble they'll be getting into should they try any tricks."
Rhoan frowned. "What sort of tricks are emos likely to get up to that would be different from a blood vampire?"
Quinn glanced at him. "They feed off emotion. Therefore it is to their benefit to amp it up where possible."
"Ah." Rhoan considered this for a moment, then said, "So my anger and fear for Liander is something she'd likely play with?"
"Most likely. If she doesn't take heed of the warning."
I glanced back at him. "Is that warning going out telepathically?"
He nodded. "And emotionally. I'm empathic, remember."
He was also something else entirely - something that wasn't just vampire. Though his mother had been human, his father came from a race known only as the priests of Aedh - beings who were more energy than flesh, and who were seen by humans as being tall, golden, and winged. They were, in fact, the race that had apparently instigated the legends of angels. I didn't know a whole lot more than that, but I had a sneaking suspicion that the skills inherited from his father were coming into play, as well.
After all, Vinny didn't seem the type to be scared by the presence of an old one - but an old one who was something that no longer existed in anything other than myth? Yeah, that would shake her overly confident little world.
We reached the top floor. A different girl guarded the door, but like the previous girl, she was dressed casually and again had a suspicious bulge on her right hip. Unlike the previous guard, this girl also looked worried.
"We're here to see Vinny," I said, stopping little more than a foot away from her. Her scent was orangey, but underneath it ran fear.