“I’m good,” he says, making me smile.
I scoot closer to my buyer, resting my back on the high boards of the truck. Cyrus does the same, moving close enough our bodies touch. Neither of us makes an effort to move. His touch brings the comfort that I didn’t realize I needed.
“Thank you,” I whisper, resting my head on his shoulder.
A soft kiss touches the top of my head, making my stomach flutter once more. What the hell are you doing, Violet? This man paid cash for you. Don’t be dumb.
We ride the rest of the way in silence.
FIFTEEN
lucien creed
“Is this it?”I ask, peeking over the wooden rails of the truck. We’re parked in front of a building that looks like the only reason it’s standing is because of the termites holding hands.
Cyrus shrugs. “I don’t know. However, I don’t feel anything powerful inside.”
“I’ll be back,” Simon says, slamming the door behind him. “Stella, stay with Cyrus and Violet.”
“Seriously, you’re going to leave me with two vampires?” she calls after him.
“It’s safer than what’s on the inside,” he answers, disappearing into the wooden shack.
“Asshole,” she mutters.
Cyrus looks at me. “Use your ability, Violet. What do you feel?”
I close my eyes, for what reason, I don’t know. The familiar energy of lycan is the first thing Inotice. They feel strong, similar to Gideon. “I feel a lycanthrope,” I answer.
“Good,” Cyrus answers. “What else?”
My stomach grumbles as I feel around the building. In the corner, I feel something different. Not vampire and not lycan. “Something else.”
“What is it?” he asks.
I send my energy closer, trying to discover what I feel. “I don’t know. It’s…blocked.”
“They’re blocking their energy. Push through it.”
Concentrating on the shield surrounding whatever is inside, I mentally poke at the protection. No matter how hard I push, the shield won’t go down. “It won’t let me through.” I open my eyes. “What is it?”
“A witch,” Cyrus answers.
My eyebrows raise in realization. “This one feels different. Why?”
“It depends on how powerful they are.” He nods toward the shack. “Whoever that is undoubtedly knows we’re here and is strong enough to keep us out.”
I look back at the building. “Are they dangerous?”
He shrugs. “Possibly, or they could just be enjoying a beverage and ignoring our energy. If we feel them, they feel us.” I resist the urge to ask more questions.
Simon is back outside moments later. “He’s not here.”
“What does that mean?” Stella asks.
“It means he’s not here. Luckily, I know where he lives,” Simon answers, climbing back behind the wheelof the still-running truck. We pass several buildings that are clones of the one we stopped at. Most, likely serving drinks during prohibition.
The further we go, the closer together the buildings become. The sparse landscape is slowly being replaced with brick buildings, large older homes, and storefronts, before we stop again. This time, instead of a run-down speakeasy, we’re parked in front of the nicest house in town.
