“We should park away from the church, then,” Quin said, and Kit duly put his indicator on. “You can grab someone on the way.”
Once Kit had found a place to park, the trio skulked down an alleyway after an older American couple. Shaun and DJ fed on one human each, with Rake feeding from both of his partners afterwards.
“Down a dingy alley,” Kit muttered to Quin as they stood at the end of the lane, waiting for them to be done with their dinner. “It’s like they’re cosplaying as vampires.”
Shaun’s teeth flashed at them in the darkness. “Do these fangs look false to you?” he called, just loud enough to be heard.
“You know, I think a cape would be dashing,” DJ said.
“You’re dashing already, sweetheart,” Rake said as he removed his mouth from DJ’s wrist.
Kit pretended to throw up. “Stop flirting and get your game faces on, people.”
Shaun compelled the couple to forget everything and then sent them back to their hotel room. As the triad made their way to where Kit and Quin were waiting, Shaun licked his lips. “Was it just me, or were they spicy?”
“Just you, sweetheart,” Rake said.
“Not one note of seasoning to be found in their blood,” DJ confirmed.
Shaun harrumphed. “I tasted cumin.”
“Yes,” Rake agreed. “Not spicy.”
As they approached the church, Kit grabbed hold of Quin’s hand. He liked how his own fit in Quin’s, and how it left him feeling all warm and mushy inside. More importantly, it gave him confidence that he had someone at his side, always.
They entered the building without issue. But when they arrived in the former nave, the sight of several feasting vampires greeted them. A group of university-age people were on the menu that night—the young adults spread out across the room on sofas where Conroy’s creations fed on them.
Kit sniffed the air. There was no scent of distress or fear, only unmitigated lust that clogged his nostrils.
Conroy left the man he was sharing to come over to them. “I’m surprised you’re willing to show your faces here,” he said, eyes devouring each of them.
Kit stepped to the front. “We’d like to speak to Roxy and Xavier.” At his words, Kezia and Tati appeared at the top of the stairs. Neither of them came down, sticking with the higher ground.
Conroy scrutinised Kit. “Why would I do you any favours?”
“Because I’ll take it as an apology for trying to kill me,” Quin said.
“But that would presume I’m sorry about it, and I ain’t.”
“We need to talk to them,” Kit said.
“I don’t keep tabs on them,” Conroy said with a shrug. “But introduce me to your friends, and I might consider tryin’ to find them.”
Kit pointed at each of the trio in quick succession. “Rake, Shaun, DJ. Now, text Roxy or however else you get hold of her.”
“You’re treadin’ on thin ice, boy.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Kit said. “Let us speak to them.”
“No.”
“Then we’re going to have to resort to other means.” Shaun blurred forward, punching Conroy in the face. Conroy reeled from the punch, and DJ and Rake moved in unison. They each grabbed one of Conroy’s arms and pushed him onto the floor, pinning him. Conroy was older than all of them, but three against one was enough to give the trio the upper hand. Shaun pounced on Conroy, hands fixing around his neck.
Conroy’s creations circled, but didn’t look willing to risk the safety of their creator by making a move that would give Shaun an excuse to tear his throat out. Kit had banked on the blood pact extending to Conroy’s creations, and his gamble was rewarded when none of them retaliated by attacking him or Quin. Kit may share blood with Shaun, Rake and DJ, but he had recreated none of them directly. Otherwise, they’d have been screwed.
Kezia and Tati blurred down the stairs to hover close. “Let our Master go!” Kezia demanded, but nobody paid her any attention.
Kit edged closer to Conroy, Quin shadowing his movement. “How about you give us her contact now?” Kit asked.
