Page 33 of Property of Mako
“She’s my mate,” I explained in a calm tone.
In any other circumstance, the way their eyes bugged would’ve been humorous. Boomslang let out a low whistle. Killswitch muttered, “Well, holy fucking shit.”
“Brother, I understand your need to have her close, but she’s still human.” Boomslang’s brows pinched together as he stared at me.
“We got a lead. According to Malrick, there’s an old plantation south of New Orleans that is tied to the Crimson Chalice Covenant. I have feelers out to see if I can narrow down which one. Once I get the location?—”
“If you get the location,” Boomslang cut in.
“When I get the location, I need to go check it out. We’re running out of time. They know we’re looking for them. This last incident was a direct message to me. It was telling me that they not only knew we were hunting them down but that it was me specifically.” I sighed and dragged a hand down my face.
“Also… you should know that the council meeting didn’t go well,” Boomslang wearily announced.
“Shit,” I muttered. “What did they say?”
“They are furious that the auctions are still taking place. Yet the majority ruled. They will not be taking action unless it gets out to the public,” he explained.
“Are you fucking kidding me? It’s too late then. It will be a nightmare to clean up. Why wouldn’t they want to cut this off before it gets out?” I demanded in exasperation.
“We don’t know for sure. But my gut’s telling me it’s because some of them are benefitting from them in some way,” Killswitch chimed in, his jaw ticking in irritation. He really disliked the council. He was a very new vampire, and he believed they were all pompous, crusty relics that acted like their shit didn’t stink. While he probably was right, the council was made up of vampires, shifters, demons, witches, demigods, and a few of the lesser creatures. They were the ruling authority when conflict arose among the supernatural world.
“So we’re on our own, my mate’s sister is on the auction block soon, and we have a rat in our fucking chapter. Fucking great,” I ticked off in a mock jubilant tone. “If that’s the case, I have to hurry. I need to find Lily and the other girls. Time is ticking, and the old farts aren’t giving us a stay of execution.”
Boomslang sat at his desk, fingers tapping in an agitated rhythm. Killswitch leaned against the wall, arms crossed and brow furrowed.
“Fine. You go check it out, but you take brothers we know we can trust. Crypt, Spook, and Dexter will go with you. I strongly suggest the girl stay here, but I understand why you don’t want to do that. Just remember… she’s a human,” Boomslang repeated.
He didn’t need to elaborate on the last part. I was fully aware of how fragile a human was to a vampire. If I couldn’t keep her safe… but I refused to think that way.
“I’m fully aware.”
“Okay, when you get the info, you let me know first. No one else needs to know we’re still following this mission. Not until we know who is spilling information. We’re not telling anyone else where y’all are going. Nor are you to leave at the same time. Meet up at the old gas station down by the tattoo shop,” Boomslang instructed with finality.
“Roger that,” I replied, secretly thankful that he’d insisted Dexter accompany us. Though I hated to consider the possibility, I knew that if anything happened, we would need him.
The next lead came from an old contact that quietly made his home in the Louisiana bayous—a dhampir who owed me for pulling him out of a blood debt. A dhampir is the rare offspring of a male vampire and a female human. While not immortal, they live a long damn time. Over the years since I helped him, he’d been an occasional but reliable source of information. He said girls matching Lily’s description had been taken to a property outside New Orleans.
An old sugar plantation. Abandoned for decades.
At least, that’s what the humans believed.
We all quietly made our exits at different times and met up as instructed. Once we were sure none of us had been followed, we pulled out onto the asphalt.
The ride south was long, humid, and heavy with silence.
Not the comfortable kind, either.
Lyra sat behind me, her arms tight around my waist, but I could practically feel her mind working—chewing over Malrick’s death, over my insistence she stay at the clubhouse, over the fact she’d ignored me anyway, over the hope that this lead wouldn’t be another failure.
She’d been exposed to so much already that a lesser woman would have crumbled. I loved that she was ballsy and tenacious. She’d be a formidable vampire—no. I refused to even entertain that vein of thought.
The main reason she was on my bike was because she was stubborn as hell. And because she loves her sister enough to walk straight into the fire. That kind of loyalty is rare… it’s also the kind that gets people killed.
Which led to the other reason she was with me. As my mate, I didn’t trust anyone else to keep her safe.
When we finally reached the location, I was surprised to find the entrance open. The rusted wrought iron gate was hanging off its hinges, vines growing up from the earth and wrapping themselves around the base and up the rails. One of the finials was missing; the others were an elaborate fleur-de-lis shape.
Single file, we entered through the gate—each of us on alert.
