An edgy quiet filled the ride to Russ’s, and Cass spent it turning things over and over until her mind spun. She could align the pieces right up until she hit the why. Why had the Cabal chosen to target Sofia? Why not Pythia directly? The answer shimmered just out of reach, and her hands itched for her cards, but with the clock ticking, she wasn’t interested in untangling the cryptic. Instead, she would get her answers directly from the source, willingly or unwillingly. After what Zane had shared, she wasn’t much concerned about how it happened, only that it would.
Grayson turned into the parking lot of the three-story complex that made up the South Wind condominiums. Like many of the newer buildings popping up around Vegas, it looked like a high-end resort, the facade a mix of rust red, light sage, and earthy brown. Wrought-iron balconies festooned the top-level and corner condos, and reflective windows stared over the main visitors’ lot and two gated entrances—one on either side—that led to the residents’ parking.
“Over on the left,” Zane directed from the passenger seat. “Third floor, back corner.”
Grayson followed his directions past a large pool with loungers and slid into an empty spot next to one marked for deliveries. The three of them got out of the car and headed toward the double glass doors that led inside. Cass tried to use the walk to calm her vengeful fantasies to an acceptable level because losing her shit on Russ wouldn’t get her answers.
A keypad was embedded into the metal frame, but Zane still gave it an experimental tug. Locked. Cass stepped in front of him and input the four-digit code her mother had sent with the address.
There was a click, and then Zane was pulling it open. “After you.”
She shook her head and stepped inside with Grayson on her heels. Quiet, melodic music greeted them as the cool air curled around her, erasing the morning’s heat. Gray-washed floors stretched through the bright, open space where clean-lined, modular furniture with a Nordic vibe was arranged in cozy conversational groupings under elemental artwork. Unsurprisingly for a Sunday morning, the lobby was empty, but a sign directed guests to use the intercom system to the left to contact residents. By tacit agreement, the three of them didn’t bother notifying Russ that they were headed up.
“Cameras are down,” Zane murmured as they went toward the elevators. He hit the call button as he and Grayson stayed at her back.
The elevator slid open with a soft chime, and Cass stepped inside, moving to the side as Zane and Grayson followed. As she waited for them to enter, she snuck a glance at the lobby and noted the camera’s dark eye aimed at the door, tucked discreetly in the corner. Next to the unmoving lens was a steady red light.
“You sure?” she asked as she hit the third-floor button.
Zane waited until the doors were shut. “That model is motion activated, and the recording light should be green.”
Grayson moved a little closer to Cass. “Maybe it’s just down.”
Zane rolled his shoulders. “Maybe.”
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened into a wide, well-lit hallway. There was no music here, just a disconcerting silence as they strode down the hall. Each apartment had an angled alcove for its front door, allowing a semblance of privacy. Cass kept expecting to hear something—the drone of a TV, the heavy beat of music, maybe a yappy pup or crying kid—but it was deathly quiet. Either the soundproofing was top notch, or this place was a freaking horror show waiting to happen.
She rubbed her arms as she followed Zane’s broad back. “This is creepy,” she murmured.
“What is?”
“The quiet.”
He pointed to one of the tall potted palms that lined the hall. Each one was made of metal, their trunks etched in markings that resembled primitive lace. “See those?”
She nodded.
“Those are soundproofing runes.”
Ahead of them, Zane halted, his arm going up, his hand in a fist, a universal sign to stop. They did, but Grayson pulled Cass behind him as Zane dropped his arm. She peered around him and caught the soft green glow that ignited along Zane’s arms. The Hunter exchanged a look with Grayson, and they did the man-to-man silent-conversation thing.
Grayson gave Zane a nod then put his head near hers and whispered, “Stay here.”
She swallowed hard and nodded.
The unearthly red of magic slipped over Grayson as he reached Zane. The two men each took a side of Russ’s entryway. Cass crept a little closer, which earned her twin glares from the men, but she could now see what had set Zane off. Russ’s door wasn’t completely shut.
Well, shit.
Grayson and Zane moved in graceful tandem, pushing open the door and slipping inside.
Heart in her throat, Cass waited, fists clenched for sounds of a confrontation, but the seconds ticked by with nothing. Unable to handle the suspense, she muttered, “Fuck it,” and followed the men inside.
Chapter 18
Grayson
Grayson heard Cass’s shocked gasp and knew she had ignored his request to stay out. He tamped down his flash of irritation and snapped, “Stop, Cass!”
