Ivan suspected things were going south when the fire alarm went off.
The hotel emptied of guests, but in their wake came some black-wearing guys—not firefighters. He had nothing against their fashion sense, but a group of eight men dressed that way usually meant they were up to no good. Hell, he dressed like that, and he was seldom up to something good.
“He’s in here. I have warded the door. No one whose blood wasn’t used in the spell will be able to get out.”
Ivan held his breath. The man speaking must be the great Wenior. He had long dreadlocks, his eyes kohl-rimmed, and he wore more necklaces and bracelets than any person should wear. His every motion jingled. Ivan sucked at telling age, but believed him to be in his fifties.
“I want him alive, understood?”
The men nodded and fanned out. Each had a gun in their hands, and Ivan held his breath. At least, they looked to be human. He could stay in the wall until they left but had they been shifters or vampires, he’d be screwed.
The man he’d spoken to earlier, the cat-shifter, walked in through the door and up to Wenior. Crap!
“Is he in here, precious?” Wenior petted the man as if he was the cat
Ivan suspected he turned into. A second later, the stocky man was replaced by a small black cat. He bumped his nose against Wenior’s leg and rubbed against him for a second before trotting through the room.
It didn’t take long before he stopped right before Ivan and meowed. Ivan didn’t move and he didn’t dare take a breath.
“Is he there?” Wenior hurried over to the cat. He moved his hands, trying to sense something in the air. Perhaps he believed Ivan had turned invisible.
“He isn’t here.”
The cat meowed again and scratched the wall. Fuck.
Wenior froze. “In the wall? Are you sure, precious?”
The cat meowed again, and Ivan wanted to believe he was rolling his eyes.
“Okay, we’ll have to break it open.”
Ivan frowned. Break it open? Some spells would force him out of the wall, spells that would make it impossible for him not to reveal himself, but to break open the wall. If they did, he’d move a little to the side.
Didn’t Wenior know what he was? Why did he want him if he hadn’t figured out he was a shadow walker?
Wenior shouted at his men, and soon two guys with a circular saw and a sledgehammer came running. Ivan moved from the spot the cat had marked, but he couldn’t move far.
As one of the men started the saw, Zev, Malik and the limping vampire walked in from the lobby—though Malik’s brother, if he’d told the truth, wasn’t limping anymore.
Ivan was torn between being happy to see them, to know Zev had saved Malik, and being terrified they’d be shot by Wenior’s guards.
“What are you doing here?” Wenior glared at them.
“We’re here to help.” Zev’s eyes swept over the room. “Remington Redwood sent us.”
Several seconds went by without anyone saying anything, then Wenior shook his head. “Why would he send you?”
“We’re only following orders, sir.” Zev bowed his head, then as one, they advanced on the room.
Ivan shouted as shots were fired. Zev roared, Malik and the other vampire bloodied their fangs on the nearest men. Wenior spoke a spell and waved his arms, and as he did, a bubble of shimmering blue formed around him and his cat—his familiar most likely.
When one of Wenior’s men jumped out of the coatroom and fired a shot at Malik, Ivan jumped out of the wall. “No!”
Malik convulsed as another shot was fired. Blood flowed from his thigh and chest.
Several men turned toward Ivan, and while they were distracted, Zev and the other vampire attacked. Blood sprayed the walls as Zev’s claws sliced through flesh.
Ivan ran to Malik, not caring about the bullets flying around him. Wenior wanted him alive, so they wouldn’t shoot him—he hoped. Malik, on the other hand, him they would kill without a second thought.
“We need to get out.” Zev was panting and he was covered in blood.
“He’s sealed the door.”
“What?” Zev shouted as a bullet buried itself in his thigh, then he snarled and shifted. Ivan swore silently. He believed Zev would understand him, but it made communicating hard.
“The entrance. He’s warded it so no one can get out.” Ivan patted Malik’s chest, trying to put pressure on the wound. He needed to get Malik away from the gunfight.
“Hopefully it’s only the main entrance, so we can get out through the kitchen or a fire escape.”
“He needs to feed.” The other vampire came closer, his face an impassive mask.
Ivan nodded. “Okay, he needs away from here first though.”
More shots were fired, china shattered on the floor as someone pushed a table over. The vampire moved toward it. Ivan suspected there was someone behind it getting ready to shoot. He threw himself in front of the vampire, leaving Malik in the open. With closed eyes, he took a deep breath, praying they wouldn’t shoot in fear of killing him.
“Flee.” He stood with his back against the vampire he didn’t know the name of. “There’s a door in the kitchen. Hopefully, it isn’t warded.”
“You want me to leave?”
“They’ll kill anyone but me. If I play shield, can you—” Another shot was fired, followed by a sickening gurgling sound as Zev tore someone’s larynx out. Ivan shuddered but tried to focus on Malik’s brother. He couldn’t turn to look at him, instead he looked for the men with guns. There were three left, he believed. One taking cover behind a table, but where the others were, he didn’t know. Maybe there were two behind the table, but it still left one.
“Can you get Malik to the coatroom? There’s an elevator. If I can get in there with him, and he can feed…”
“We need to be quick.”
Ivan nodded. “I’ll stand in the way; you drag him over there. On three. One. Two—” A gun was fired at the same moment Ivan was to say three, but the vampire didn’t care. He acted as if Ivan had said three, and Ivan made himself as big as he could—not an easy thing to do.
The vampire grabbed Malik under the arms, locked arms around his chest, and dragged him toward the coatroom. A blood trail was left in their wake. Ivan did his best to take up as much space as he possibly could.
“Great. Thanks.” Ivan hurried over to the elevator and pushed the button. It took several long seconds, but then the door opened. It was the tiniest elevator he had ever seen. “Shit. Will he even fit in there?” He looked at the buttons and cursed. The elevator only went down to the vault, nowhere else. And there was a card scanner next to the buttons.
“I’ll hit the emergency stop button, hopefully, it’ll close it off.”
The vampire nodded and pushed Malik inside the elevator. Zev dove into the coatroom in a hail of bullets. His fur was matted in blood and he was dragging his right back leg.
“Zev?” Ivan’s gut clenched. Malik, Ivan was pretty sure he could if not heal completely then at least get back to functioning by giving him blood, but Zev? This wasn’t his fight. They’d dragged him into this, Raina and him. He turned to the vampire. “What’s your name?”
The vampire widened his eyes. “Master calls us—”
“None of that shit, your real name.”
“Dante.”
“Awesome, nice to meet you, Dante. Is there anything in this world you want?”
Dante frowned. “My brother—” He gestured at Malik. Ivan studied his features for a brief second. They were more alike now when Dante wasn’t schooling his expressions.
“Let’s negotiate later. I’ll do my best to give you what you want if you get Zev out of here.” He motioned at Zev. “I don’t know where Raina is—” Ice filled his veins. Did Remington have her?
“Outside, waiting with the car ready.”
Ivan blew out a breath, and new bullets rained in through the opening to the coatroom. “This is a shitty deal, and I’m sorry for the danger I’m putting you in.” Dante’s eyes widened more, but Ivan didn’t have time to convince Dante he meant what he said. “Get yourself and Zev out without being killed. You can’t use the main entrance, but there is a door in the kitchen and I believe—”
“I know where the fire escapes are.”
“You do?”
“Yes, we were to catch you.”
Ivan nodded. Of course, Remi would’ve had them study the layout of the building. “Get him out, and I’ll do what I can to get Malik and myself out.”
Dante nodded and Ivan stepped into the elevator, his feet pushing in underneath Malik, who sprawled in a puddle of blood on the floor. This was a bad day.
“Good luck.” He nodded at Dante and pushed the emergency stop. The doors closed and locked as he’d hoped.