Page 45 of Rafe

“There’s a foot in the sink. What’s that?” Rafe pointed to a green goo splattered across a wall.

“Could be a fungus,” Xavier commented. “I’m beginning to regret saying yes to Kade.”

“Laz!” Rafe called out into the industrial space.

“Topper!” Xavier yelled.

“Neither one of them is here,” Greyson stated. “Something isn’t right.”

“That fae was fucking lying to you.” Rafe’s mind churned as he studied the room. “Is this a kitchen? Or a lab?” He blew out a breath, shaking his head. “You can’t even keep blood in here. It’s cool but not cold enough for a blood bar. Where are the refrigerators? Why is this hidden? Where the fuck is Topper? And where the fuck is the waiter? The wolf?”

“Did you say there are severed body parts in the sink?” Kenji asked as he and Skylar stepped inside the room.

“Stay back.” Rafe shot him a sharp look of annoyance. “Keep her back.”

“But what about the man?” Skylar asked, her eyes widening. “Did those things out there…those…”

“Vampires.” Greyson finished her thought.

“Did they do this?” she asked, attempting to peek around Kenji’s broad shoulders.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know,” Rafe replied.

“But vampires⁠—”

“We’re not all the same,” Greyson feigned indignation.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” Rafe countered. “Think about this. Vampires drink blood. They don’t usually separate parts of the body. They don’t eat the flesh.”

“Or save it. Jesus,” Xavier exclaimed. “What in the hell is going on? That smell reeks.”

“There’s something very evil here,” Greyson growled in warning.

“There’s nothing in here.” Rafe glanced at the severed foot. Rage simmered underneath his cool exterior as he strode across the room. Towards the back, a dimly lit hallway led toward a single red door. Rafe held a finger up to his lips and pointed. “Let’s go.”

Greyson flashed several feet ahead of him, his feet planted firmly on a black rubber mat. “Feeling lucky?”

“Every damn day of the week.” Rafe peered inside its tiny peephole and jiggled the door handle which appeared to be locked. “Nothing is easy.”

Rafe stepped back and lunged at the door. His muscles tensed as he slammed his shoulder against the cold metal. As a loud screech sounded, he burst into the empty room.

Though it was dark, he could make out the forms hanging from the ceiling, the scent of death hung heavy in the air.

“I wouldn’t call this lucky.” Greyson said as he stepped inside after the wolf.

“Shit.” Rafe reached for the light switch and flipped it upward. He sucked a breath at the sight. “What the fuck is this?”

Like meat in a butcher shop, black body bags hung eerily still from hooks in the ceiling. Rafe glanced to a human body laid out on the bloodstained floor. “Skylar, stay back. I mean it.”

“Jesus Christ.” Greyson stepped past him to examine what remained of the human, strands of her long black hair brushed into a puddle of blood on a metal drain. “I don’t see any fang marks. Look here.”

“What’s with all the body bags?” Rafe asked.

“I assume they’re human.” Xavier retrieved a blue rubber glove from his coat pocket and snapped it onto his hand. “There must be twenty of them.”

“Gloves?” Rafe’s eyes widened.

“I travel prepared, my friend.” Xavier tapped on the outer canvas and reached for a zipper. “Perhaps we should open one of these bags? Take a look-see.”