“Are you holding them?” the injured man asked, struggling to get to his feet.
“No, they’re not here. We sent them back to you,” Marcus assured them. He didn’t look at Alaric. His staff had put the survivor into one of the vans the two crews had arrived in, along with those who weren’t breathing. The driver hadn’t chosen to return? “Sounds like you’ve got an internal problem.”
The two intruders exchanged glances. The man wielding the knife thrust his shoulders back to appear confident. “Nobody bucks Mr. Costa’s orders and survives.”
“We appreciate the warning. Consider your message received,” Alaric told them. “You do not need to visit again.”
“You’ll come to see Mr. Costa now?”
“No.” Alaric’s screen blackened.
“Chickenshit,” the man with a knife commented and spat on the ground.
Marcus knocked him out with an uppercut before turning to the kneeling man. “I hope you don’t have a manual transmission. It looks like you’re the driver. We’ll deliver these to the docks for you.”
The man screamed as Marcus hauled him up roughly by the back of his pants, crushing his phone in his rear pocket in the process. Half-dragging, half-carrying him, Marcus threw the injured man out the exit door into the alley along with the unconscious man Marcus had towed across the flooring. “I hope you have the keys,” he said and laughed as the man’s expression froze. He’d have a long walk home.
Marcus called in the cleaning crew before returning to his normal duties. With everything fine in the interior, he climbed to the observation platform. Carina had curled up on the cushions and fallen asleep. With her hand folded angelically under hercheek, his mate snored softly. His heart swelled with love for his beautiful mate. Marcus stilled, watching her breathe for a few minutes before tearing himself away.
Costa wouldn’t take this lying down. He considered how to respond to the threat. If Costa was smart, he wouldn’t retaliate. A good offense was much more effective than a skillful defense. Alaric wouldn’t visit Costa, but Marcus could.
Chapter
Eleven
Open for business only on Friday and Saturday nights, Nightfall would remain closed during the week. Marcus’s large staff would provide continual protection for the building even while it sat vacant.
Alaric had decreed weekends exclusively to fuel the fever to get in. If partygoers could experience Nightfall on a very limited basis, they wouldn’t tire of the experience. Additionally, the entrance rite had bonded the attendees to the clan. They had willingly given their blood and could be tracked anywhere.
The clan had bestowed a gift on their visitors as well. Strength in the form of bolstered mental and physical health enhanced their lives for a few hours. Those positive changes would create an urge inside people to return. They felt better blowing off steam by dancing and socializing with others.
They would return in droves and bring others with them. With Costa threatening their business, Marcus would need to devise a way to safeguard the attendees. He had no doubt Costa and his men would choose to attack the patrons of Nightfall next.
Once they’d emptied the building of guests, Marcus watched revelers linger on the exterior walkways. Security encouragedeveryone to head home, but conversations and potential hookups kept the attendees close. Marcus had checked with his staff, who reported the first few people in line had shown up three hours before Nightfall opened. That created a wide time range he’d need to strategize how to guard effectively.
After patrolling the perimeter of Nightfall, Marcus carried Carina out of the club in the early morning hours. The secured garage where his car sat should be perfectly safe, but he would risk nothing to protect her. His precious Little still slept, only rousing to cuddle closer to his throat.
Marcus settled her comfortably onto the passenger seat and buckled her belt. He walked around the car and slid in beside her. Carina let out an adorable sigh and reached over the console to set her hand on his thigh.
“Daddy.”
“I’m taking you home, Little girl.”
“Okay,” she mumbled. Seconds later, a quiet snore sounded from the right side of the car, making him smile.
Carina definitely wasn’t the night owl he was. She’d slept soundly for the last few hours. Marcus waved his thanks to the guard, who still secured the entrance to the parking lot before turning onto the now deserted street.
As always, Marcus scanned his surroundings, keeping vigil to anticipate any possible problems. Costa had attacked twice already. Marcus guessed he wouldn’t learn and would try again. The man wouldn’t have gotten to his position of power without being ruthless and determined. After the clan had killed his employees, his underlings would have started to doubt him. Costa would need to reestablish his authority, or his followers would decide supporting Costa was too risky.
Costa would never win. He had no idea what he was dealing with, nor did he have the tools to succeed. A mere mortal versusa clan of ancient vampires was completely outgunned. No matter how lethal his human forces were.
A dim glow caught his eye. Marcus scanned the area in front of the car to the left, where he’d seen it. His sharp vision spotted a man talking on a cellphone. The amateur had forgotten to turn off his screen.
To avoid having to stop at the red light ahead, Marcus swerved abruptly into a parking lot and sped through the empty spaces to the exit on the next block. He took the next right at the intersection and kept the vehicle moving. When he’d detoured several blocks from his original route, Marcus didn’t relax. Costa was desperate.
He swerved around a delivery van that partially blocked his lane. An oversized black SUV appeared suddenly in his path. Marcus screeched to a stop, threw an arm out to keep Carina back against her seat, and shifted into reverse. Turning in his seat, Marcus sped in reverse while keeping the SUV in his sight.
“Daddy! What’s happening?” Her voice told him no trace of sleep remained.
