I look around, my stomach twisting into knots. The chaos is starting to die down now that people are leaving, but I still don’t see him.
“Evan!” I shout, making a few people jump. I scan the crowd, my stomach sinking into a pool of dread when I don’t see him.
“EVAN!”
When no one answers, fire churns in my chest.
WHERE’S MY MATE?
31
EVAN
The club is a madhouse.
Maybe we should have strategized a little more before waltzing through the portal like we knew what we were doing—because clearly, we don’t. We hadno cluewhat was really going on inThe Iris. It’s worse than we ever could have imagined.
There are nearly thirty vampires around the building, all dressed in blue and purple uniforms. And with so many shifters and humans here, it’s hard to know who’s on what side. Are all the vamps with Foxx? Or are some of them truly innocent?
Following Willow through the crowd, my attention drifts to a platform hanging above us to the left. It’s raised about fifteen feet above the main stage, and is surrounded with thick steel bars.A cage?
Two women crouch low behind the bars, their eyes wide as they cling to each other. Both of them are dressed in beaded sparkly tops that barely cover their breasts.
Another cage hangs on the opposite side of the stage with two more women inside. Overhead lights are aimed right on them, ensuring they’re on full display.
I snag Willow’s wrist. “What is that?” I say, pointing up.
Willow’s expression falls. “Exactly what it looks like. His prisoners.”
I grind my teeth. “How long have they been there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are the vamps feeding from them?”
She nods. “And the humans upstairs.. I’m trying to help, but there’s no way out. The most I can do is take them food and water.”
For fuck’s sake. Foxx is herding the humans to be the coven’s personal buffet and using Orem’s memory charms to get away with it.
A wall of people separates us, pushing me apart from Willow. Her brightly colored hair disappears quickly into the crowd. I try to weasel my way through, but it’s like trying to cross a fast-moving river. I’m swept away by the current.
Shit, this is bad. I need to get to Orem. Without breaking the spell, we’re all sitting ducks.
The crowd pushes me toward the front of the room, along the service bar on the right-hand side. Intense white lights hover above it, reflecting through hundreds of various liquor bottles lined up on shelves.
Employees stand frozen, confused and horrified by what is taking place in their club. Clearly, not everyone is aware of Foxx’s illegal activities, or maybe they’re just all under Orem’s spell.
“FOXX!” A deep, familiar voice cuts through the air like a knife, making my heart leap into my throat.
I whip around in search of Jericho, but it takes several seconds to find him. His gorgeous face is lit up under the lights on the main stage, his hands ablaze like the devil himself.
Damn. He’s beautiful.
He doesn’t see me, though. His attention is on someone across the room—someone near me. I turn around and go up on my toes, but it’s hard to see through the bustle of people.
“You!” a man shouts from behind the bar, his cheeks colored with rage. “You’re behind this?”
My world freezes. This man looks exactly like the picture Grant showed us a few days ago—the only picture they were able to find of Foxx taken before he was turned into a vampire. His thin frame and narrow waist make him appear weaker than he is, but it’s his blond hair and golden skin that are a dead giveaway. It’s him. It’s Foxx! And he’s standing less than twenty feet away.
