Page 95 of Viktor

“So now what?” Waverly asked. “We just wait around for Adam? I think I should call him. Confront him.”

“We’ll smoke the fucker out all right, but we need to catch the bigger fish,” Viktor replied, anger coursing through him. “Whoever is orchestrating this grand chess game wants my attention. And now they’ve got it. I think it’s time to go back to the blood club in Miami. The same one Teagan told you to go to. It was all planned. They wanted you there.”

“Maybe Teagan went back to the club,” Waverly suggested.

“She’s probably dead,” Thorn offered. “I could look for her in Hell.”

“Perhaps someone saw an opportunity that night in Miami. The guy I killed. I didn’t bother to find out who he was. And when I saw you…” Viktor recalled the first time he’d laid eyes on her, the immediate interest she’d stirred within him. “I don’t normally get involved. Someone could have seen us. Read something into my reaction.”

“But can we all agree Baxter’s dead?” Quintus said, standing. “I killed him. Viktor said he was in Hell. Thorn just said he’s in Hell.”

“Well,” Thorn held up a dismissive finger, “what I said is that I think he’s in Hell. I can’t be one hundred percent sure about these things. I don’t have those kind of clearances. But in general, I’d agree. Like ninety-nine percent. Someone who makes a blood contract with Satan isn’t just going to walk away. That soul is gonna be locked up tight. It’s eternal damnation at its finest.”

“If anyone would try to get out of Hell, it’d be Baxter.” Viktor wrapped the fleam in the cloth and stuffed it into his pocket. Frustration boiled inside him. “We know what he was capable of when he walked this realm. He spent centuries turning humans, torturing us. The things we saw…those days are over now."

Viktor ruminated in the silence, anger burning in his gut. He blew out a breath and pinned both Quintus and Greyson with a serious stare. “Whoever is playing this game doesn’t realize we, too, know evil. We learned from the grandmaster. While it’s true we may have chosen other paths, his lessons are branded in our souls. The violence. The darkness. It’s like a stain you can’t quite get out, what we were taught, it never really goes away. Whoever this is is about to learn a hard lesson of their own.”

Viktor held Waverly tight as they materialized in front of the blood club. He nodded to Greyson, who gave a low chuckle as he released Rafe. With his hands on his knees, Rafe bent over, heaving for breath.

“You okay, pet?” Viktor asked her, his lips pressed to her hair.

“Yeah,” she responded.

“Goddammit, that’s a trip,” Rafe laughed.

“He’s wet behind the ears.” Greyson gave him a pat on the back.

“Fuck off, old man,” Rafe shot back. “I could run circles around you.”

“The pup has spirit,” Greyson laughed.

“He’s vampire now,” Viktor reminded his brother.

“I’ll always be more wolf, Dad,” Rafe asserted.

“Stop calling me that.” Viktor gave Waverly one last squeeze before releasing her. Warmth tugged at his heart as she smiled at him. Fuck, he hated dragging her into this sleezy blood club.

A cold breeze blew across his skin and Viktor stilled, on alert. Something was watching. Out there waiting for him. Evil, as cold as a dead heart.

“Do you feel it?” Viktor asked.

Waverly and Rafe shook their head no.

“Something is here, all right.” Greyson stepped in front of Rafe and cased the building.

“What are we looking for?” Waverly asked, her voice strained.

“I don’t know just yet. But there’s something here. It’s cold.” Viktor held out his hand. “Do you feel it?”

Waverly closed her eyes and extended her hand. “Yes.” Her eyes flew open. “That’s so weird.”

“Fucking bad vibes is what it is,” Greyson told him.

Viktor stared at the club, taking in the sight of the run-down building. Flecks of lime green paint peeled from the crumbling brick exterior. A large neon sign hung above its entrance, its hot pink letters flickering. Beijo de Satanás

“Beijo de Satanás?” Greyson crossed his arms over his chest. “Satan’s Kiss.”

“Well, that’s a fucking hell of a name,” Rafe commented.