The dark haze that had clouded Sloane’s eyes faded. Recognition flickered in them.
“Let her go!” he shouted. “Piper, run. He’s a demon.”
Demon? Before I could even comprehend the immense terror of Sloane’s words, the demon lashed out at him with a bolt of dark magic. He collapsed to the ground and didn’t move.
I sucked in a sharp breath and whispered, “No…”
“Yesss,” the slithering voice taunted. He released my arms and moved before me, then raised his hand toward my forehead. “Succumb.”
CHAPTER 17
REX
When I returned to the gangway and stepped onboard, I caught Piper’s scent among the countless others. She was recently here. I rubbed my beard, forcing myself not to sprint to her. I’d already scared her away once. Tracking her down would not help matters.
But maybe we could talk. I’d let her know that I’d respect her wishes and would avoid her if that was what she wanted—despite how much I loathed that idea.
As I walked up the stairs, brief wisps of her scent continued to taunt me. Yet something felt off. My wolf perked up with heightened awareness.
“Hey, Rex,” Van said as he strolled from the other direction. “Everything okay?”
My jaw twitched. No, but I didn’t know what the hell was wrong. “Yeah, all good,” I lied. “See you tonight.”
I continued past, my feet all but leading me toward the gallery while I wrestled with myself over whether it was a good idea to go in. Just as I reached the closed doors leading into the space, they opened, and Marcel burst out.
When he saw me, he raised both arms toward me with his traditional dramatic flair. “Wolf, have you seen Piper?”
I resisted snorting. Glad he took the time to remember my name, considering I’d volunteered to help him find the painting. What was more important was his question.
“No. Isn’t she here?” I glanced into the space between the closing doors of the gallery before they shut completely.
He pressed his lips together in a grim line. “She’s supposed to be. And Sloane too. They should be here preparing for tonight’s auction, but are they?” He threw a hand up and raised an index finger, swaying it back and forth. “No-o-o-o.” He dragged out the word with particular emphasis. “Are they answering my calls and texts?” He clucked his tongue. “Also no.”
My instincts shot up. Piper was missing. And so was Sloane. I gritted my teeth. That son of a bitch. If he laid a hand on her, I’d?—
“They should be in the gallery, setting up.” Marcel crossed his arms. “Everything is riding on this event. The auction starts in an hour!”
Gnawing dread inside my gut intensified. This wasn’t good. I bolted across the deck, searching for signs of their scent.
“Where are you going, wolf?” Marcel blurted out with exasperation. Seconds later, he was right behind me, courtesy of his vampire speed.
“Looking for Piper.”
Her scent grew stronger outside the storage space, indicating she’d been here recently. I turned the knob to open the door, but it was locked.
“Let me.” Marcel stepped forward and used his key.
Once he opened the door, I stepped inside the dark space and scanned the interior. Stacks of paintings covered by white sheets as I’d remembered, yet something felt different. Wrong.
“Piper?” I called out softly.
Nothing.
“Sloane. Piper.” Marcel barked out their names with irritation.
Still nothing. I moved deeper into the room, which felt darker—not just by the lack of light but the energy in the air. A pungent sulfuric scent overpowered the usual scent of paint and must. The air felt thick, heavy. Charged with something—unnatural. All the hair on the back of my neck shot up, and my protective instincts sped into overdrive.
I searched through gaps between the stacks of canvas, desperation clawing at my insides. Marcel meandered around, muttering under his breath, but I shut him out.
