Trevor arches an eyebrow, cocking his head and putting a bored expression on his face. “Seriously, Donatello? Did you really bring her here?”
“Everyone’s after you,” Alicia says, not taking her eyes from Cassandra. “Humans. Supernaturals. The Collector. Kayn. You’re the golden egg goose, and everyone wants a piece of you.”
Cassandra winces. “If you take pieces off the goose, wouldn’t he die? Then he wouldn’t give eggs anymore.”
Alicia nods. “Yes, that’s supposed to be the lesson. Can you imagine, though, if everyone showed up, fighting for the goose? The animal wouldn’t survive, even if that’s what everybody wants. The goose ought to be hurt in the crossfire.” The woman puts her hands on her hips. “I say no-no. Be gone.” She waves a hand and turns to enter the house.
I shoot a look at Donatello. Just what the fuck is happening here? “Isn’t this supposed to be neutral grounds?” I ask the vampire.
The blond turns again. “It is.”
“But the Collector is a talented fucker,” Trevor points out. “And we don’t like him.”
“No one likes him,” Alicia adds, and I catch Cassandra nodding from my peripheral view.
“I want to kill him,” my mate says, and it feels like everything, and I mean everything, stops. Even the wind halts to listen to her. “He captured me. Kept me in a cell, with no proper place to sleep. And I wasn’t the only one.” She steps away from Ren, even as the wolf shifter fumbles for her hand. “The Collector has many others. He’s captured all sorts of supernaturals just because he can. The sight of it is nauseating. I can’t bear the idea he has captured and tortured children, kept them for his entertainment, or sold them for the highest price.” My mate tilts her chin up, and in that moment I see something new. Since when was Cassandra this impressive? This tall? “Help me kill him. Help me bring him to justice.”
Her words shake something inside me. Goosebumps race down my arms. Crap, this woman. My heart swells. I want to stride to her, capture her face in my hands and kiss the hell out of her. She’s amazing. She makes me want to go after the Collector right now and kick his teeth in.
Alicia looks at Trevor, then back at Cassandra. Time stretches, my heart beating in my ears.
The blond opens her mouth, takes a breath. “No.” And the two whirl around to step into the house. My jaw drops. Is this serious? Did we drive all the way here to be denied at the gate? The blond stops at the door, holding it ajar. “But you can come in.” She shrugs. “Giulia has this policy of never rejecting those in true need. And if there’s someone out there who needs help, that’s you.”
I shoot an annoyed look at Donatello. He looks back at me and presses his lips together in an apologetic smile. What an annoying duo. They don’t look much older than Cassandra, which makes them some fifteen years younger than me. I knew it. There’s something strange about young people nowadays.
Donatello takes the lead, gazing back over his shoulder at Cassandra. I reach out for her and she takes my hand, taking Ren’s with her other. Tristan carries the dog, rearing the group, and together we climb the steps onto the white-walled house, my dragon rising in threat when I pass the two. The blond flickers her hair again before she enters the place. There’s the tang of blood to her, but very, very subtle. Almost as if she cut herself. Only human then?
It’s the man that has my heckles rising. The smell of wolf reaches me the second the doors close. He’s a werewolf, like Ren. Too small to give me problems, of course, but he might be a threat to my mate. I watch him as the couple leads us across a foyer I ignore and into a large room.
“Wow,” Cassandra breathes out. I drag my eyes from the wolf to study the place and fuck, she’s right. Wow. Was the ceiling this high? And is this their living room? It’s a weird place to call a living room. There are couches, yes, dark leather and everything, but so many desks and glass displays. It’s almost like the entrance to a museum.
Then my eyes land on a skull nailed to the wall. A human skull. A shiver races down my back, and my dragon hisses at the sight. I blink again.
“Not a human skull, Mr. Cop,” the blond girl says, still taking the lead. She looks over her shoulder with a smirk. “Take another look.”
I do, catching the sight of pointed canines. “Fuck. Vampire?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at it. The fangs must be as long as my thumb. I had never seen a vampire with fangs this long.
“Not any vampire, though,” Donatello says, and in his voice there’s a weird sort of... Respect? “Vampire fangs are kept inside the mouth at all times. It wouldn’t be really feasible to talk with them. They elongate when you feed.” Oh gods, here comes another biology lesson on vampires I never asked for. I don’t get how Cassandra gets wide-eyed and fascinated every time. Being human must be boring as shit. “The longer they go, the older you are. That,” and he points at the skull, “was a rather ancient one.”
“What’s ancient for a man your age?” Cass asks, and I almost want to grip her hand and ask her to drop the subject. I’m not a hundred percent into trusting Donatello. It’s more bitterness at seeing him attack her than anything.
Donatello smiles. “Thousands of years old.”
“Very hard to kill,” says Trevor, not turning to us. “From what I heard, of course.”
“It’s not like we killed him,” Alicia laughs.
“No, we did not. A hunter actually gifted this to Giulia. She must have helped him at some point.”
“Who are you, anyway?” I break into the conversation, asking what I should have asked before we entered this odd place. Now that I look around, there are more skulls, mainly of vampires, but of other creatures too. There’s the skull of a wolf, and next to it the entire skeleton of something of a man with the head of a bull.
Who the fuck are these people? Donatello mentioned this Giulia, but not anyone else. And he definitely didn’t mention she lived in a hole with walls decorated with our dead. Is she just like the Collector? Does this place have an underground cave full of children in cages?
My dragon rumbles inside me, disliking this whole thing as much as I do. The two stop just as I prepare to bark at them again, turning around to face us. We’ve reached the middle of the living room, where several doors take to other places. I ignore this, and the other strange things decorating the area, to focus on the two leading us.
Into what I hope is not a trap. I’m done with traps for the rest of my life.
“Giulia knew you were coming,” Alicia says, waving a hand around. “Of course she did. She knows everything. Anyway, she asked us to make you comfortable. She’s busy now.”