Page 29 of Revenge of the Blood Pack

When I don't say more, Max does. "The informant has information we need. You two need to stay quiet and follow my lead."

Ugh.I glance at him. He’s wearing another dark suit, this one a very deep grey color that makes his tan skin look even tanner. And, for some reason, makes his brown eyes look different in the darkness of the car. Every time a lamppost’s light falls over us, the shadows on his face draw attention to his strong jaw and pleasant features.

Pleasant?Fuck. I need to get the hell out of the car.

“You two need to be nothing more than shadows, do you understand me? This is a delicate matter. A matter I know how to handle.”

I snort, which causes him to give me one of his looks. Not quite irritated, but sure as hell disapproving.

But Braxton simply says, "Yes, sir," even though there's a hint of amusement in his voice, which tells me he's going to listen to that command about as well as I will.

These two… they’re hard to figure out. Harder than I imagined. Like they’re both really good at concealing who they really are. At another time, in another life, I might have made it my mission to figure them out. Instead, I look back out the window, trying to forget they’re even here.

Max drives through the active town to the even busier main street where people are still out shopping and grabbing dinner, seemingly unaware of the trouble that's come to their door. Isee a few vampires who almost blend in with the humans, a handful of shifters laughing together outside a club that hasn't yet opened. Basically, nothing out of the ordinary.

Supernaturals have always gotten along with humans, for the most part, as long as humans continue thinking we don't exist. I just hope I can find a way for the Blood Pack to find a place in this world too.

A place that doesn't involve being hunted like animals.

We pull off of the main road and weave down some quieter streets before turning off the road and onto a long driveway surrounded by large trees. Eventually, we stop in front of huge gates. Max presses the button beside the gates, and we wait.

"Identify yourself," a deep voice practically growls over the intercom.

"Enforcers Max and Braxton Blackwell," he responds, and an instant later the gates open.

We head down a long driveway lined with trees and arrive in front of a very modern-looking mansion with all straight lines, dark marble, and huge windows that are apparently tinted, because I can’t see anything inside. Max cuts the engine then turns to me and Braxton.

“This source isn’t just important for our case. He’s an important man. Let’s try not to piss him off.”

“I didn’t plan to–” Braxton and I say at the same time.

I glance back at him, and his eyes are wide as he stares at me. A spark crackles between us, and then he tilts his head. “I think he was talking to me.”

“Doubt it,” I say.

“I’ve had twenty-plus years of ignoring his orders and screwing things up.” His words are a challenge.

“And I’m a Blood Mage. Check and mate.”

He grins at me, and I almost smile before remembering where we are and why we’re here. Every second spent on thisbullshit is a second I’m not helping my pack. And they deserve someone who’s focused, not this.

Max clears his throat. “Actually, I was talking to both of you.”

“Fine,” I say, then climb out of the SUV, hearing their doors opening and slamming behind me.

Trouble goes racing past me into the woods, and I look back at Braxton with a frown.

He smiles. “He’ll be back. Just needed to run some of that energy off.”

Okay, I guess the dog is okay then…

I take a few steps forward when the door to the mansion opens and two men appear. Inhaling sharply, my nose instantly wrinkles. Yeah, technically, I’m part vampire now, but I don’t think I smell the way they do. Like roadkill that’s been sitting in the hot sun for hours. It’s a vampire thing. Sometimes their smell is worse, sometimes not so much, but there’s always a hint of death around them.

Both big men are stone-faced and nod slightly at us as Max and Braxton come to stand at my side. One of them, a man with long blond hair and a scar across his jaw says, “Right this way, he’s waiting for you.”

I instantly snap into action and just barely catch the raised brow Max gives me as I hurry after the guards, the two other men closely at my heel. We enter a massive mansion that looks exactly the way I pictured, only better. Ridiculously high ceilings and minimalistic decorations make it easier to focus on the incredibly well-built structure.

Whoever owns this house, he’s got good taste and an eye for design.

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