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The thought of her doing that again made me want to snatch her off her feet and carry her away from here. But Frank had seen us back there. He knew what Jaz looked like, and I wasn’t leaving until he was nothing but ash.

“If shit gets dicey, you run, okay? Get the fuck out of here as fast as you can.”

“I will.”

The way her gaze darted from mine, I was pretty sure she was lying. Fuck. “Let’s go. Keep your hand on my back so I know where you are at all times.”

She nodded and, on quiet feet, I led her into the dark building. There were massive old machines filling the enormous space. The place smelled metallic, of oil, and broken glass crunched underfoot as we crossed the concrete floor.

We made our way carefully, and were nearly to the other side, when Jaz fisted my shirt and tugged, stopping me. I looked at her over my shoulder, and she pointed to the floor at the end of one of the machines. It was nearly impossible to see in this light, but it was there. A symbol.

Jaz quickly lowered herself to the floor and rolled under the machine, the scent of her blood came next, then the hiss of her flesh and that same acrid scent. She rolled back out and slid under the one beside it, another hiss, more of that scent. I felt helpless, following her as she checked the rest of the machines.

I knew she was in pain. I felt her distress. The connection between us that I realized had always been there felt different now, somehow stronger, but also muted in a way that didn’t feel…right.

She finally rolled out from under the last machine, and I took her good hand and helped her up, unable to stop myself from pulling her into my side. I needed to touch her, to feel her close. I pressed my mouth to the top of her head. “Okay?” I whispered.

She nodded. Another fucking lie. She trembled, and the palm of her hand looked as if she’d dipped it in fucking boiling oil. The fact she wasn’t crying in pain spoke of her strength and determination, two things I already knew about this female.

I placed her good hand against my side, needing to know she was with me, and moved to the doorway in front of us. I peered into the darkness, listening. My fox pricked his ears. Nothing but silence came from the shadows.

Sliding my knife free, I stepped through, Jasmine right behind me.

It was a small room, an old office perhaps, but nothing else. I pulled out my phone and used the flashlight. No other doorways, no exit.

“Are you sure he came this way?” Jaz whispered.

I nodded and walked to an old storage shelf. “His scent is stronger in here.” He definitely came into this room. I shone my phone at the floor. There were marks in the dust from the narrow wheels under it.

I turned off the light, shoved my phone in my pocket, and reached for the shelf but Jaz stopped me with a hand to my bicep, pointing to the other side. Another fucking symbol.

I clenched my teeth. I couldn’t watch her go through that again, but she was already whispering her spell. She pressed her blood-covered and blistered hand to the symbol and pain etched her beautiful face, her skin leaching of all color. She shook from it, and I moved in behind her and wrapped my arms around her, wishing I could absorb the pain, take it from her. Smoke rose, the sizzle and scent of her burning flesh reaching my nose. But she didn’t pull away, she finished her spell, breaking its dark magic before finally dropping her hand and collapsing against me.

I turned her to face me, and tears glistened on her cheeks. I brushed them away. My mate was crying, my precious female was burned, in pain, and I couldn’t do anything to ease it. “I’m sorry,” I choked out. Useless words, and not just for her physical pain, but for the pain I’d caused her over the years while I’d been lost in my own. Blind, dumb, deaf to everything. So focused on getting through one more day, just one, that I hadn’t seen anything around me, or anyone.

She wiped her face on her shirt and smiled crookedly at me, cracking my chest down the middle.

“I’ll live,” she said, her lower lip quivering.

I gripped the back of her head and pressed a kiss to the top of her hair, knowing that’s all she’d let me do, all I’d let myself do, but still needing that contact so fucking badly. “You ready?”

She nodded. “Yeah, the pain’s subsided some.”

That was her third lie of the night. The pain was still there in her gorgeous eyes, but I nodded and eased the shelf forward. More darkness greeted us behind it, but there was a flicker of light in the distance, lower than the level we were on. The basement.

“Stairs,” I said against her ear and placed her hand on my back again before slowly, carefully, making my way down. I wanted to leave her up here, but if he doubled back and found her alone—no, I couldn’t leave her alone in this place.

As we reached the bottom, music drifted out of a room to the side. There were shelves and other clutter down here, and we slipped into the room. The sound of Frank humming along to the music reached us. I peered through one of the shelves.

He was doing a weird fucking little dance as he stripped off his clothes. He tossed his jacket aside, then his shirt, before shucking his pants. His skin was sweaty, more scabs like the ones around his mouth at his joints. He straightened with a groan of relief, and Jaz grabbed my arm, her nails digging in.

Holy fuck. His greasy skin writhed. Souls moving beneath it. Hands stretched his flesh, fingers splayed, faces, mouths open in silent screams. They were trapped inside him. He spun in a slow circle, swiveling his hips, singing along with the song playing.

I took Jaz’s hand, placed it on one of the shelves, and mouthed stay here. She nodded.

My best bet was taking this fucker by surprise. He strutted about, still dancing, singing, swinging his flaccid dick around like he was hot shit. No doubt on a high after just feeding.

He dance-walked farther away. The humming stopped, there was a clang, like pots and pans being moved around. He couldn’t still be hungry.