Page 25 of Fanged Embrace
My breath throttled in my throat. “You… followed him?”
Arlon’s lips thinned out. “For a while, yeah. They got into that same car from the footage. I managed to slip a tracker on the bumper.”
A small spark of appreciation lit my chest. Despite my reservations about his idea of ‘recovery’, Arlon deserved credit where credit was due. He was good at his job, and he was committed. Sometimes I overlooked that part of him.
I took a closer look at the map on his phone. “Where did they go?”
Arlon tapped the screen, pointing out a specific pin drop. “To a warehouse district on the outskirts of the city. I got coordinates.”
“Great,” I said, pushing off the couch arm. “Let’s go see it?—”
“Laurie,” he cut in sharply, reaching out to halt my movement. “I’m not gonna let you just waltz in there. We don’t know what these people are capable of, and you’re not exactly armed to handle a whole nest of them.”
I bristled under his touch, wrenching my arm free. “I can handle them just fine. You have no idea?—”
“I don’t doubt you can defend yourself.” Arlon’s expression softened and he lowered his hand. “I just…” He shrugged helplessly. “Look, this is dangerous. I don’t want to see you hurt… not again.”
The admission squeezed my heart, uncomfortably so. I pressed my lips together, masking my building irritation under a quiet murmur. “So you’re just going to sit on this lead forever?”
“No.” Arlon sat back, carding his fingers through his hair. “I’m just saying, we have to plan carefully. Maybe get official backup, but authorizing a raid will take time.”
I groaned. We didn’thavetime. Every second spent sitting around waiting for permission from Arlon’s higher-ups was a precious second wasted. We had a lead—we had to do something with it. And if Arlon wouldn’t help me… I knew someone else who would.
My stomach twisted at the idea of letting a vampire help.But River had proven herself kinder than her fangs suggested. And she was currently the only real option I had.
“At least send me the location.” I sighed, mustering a nonchalant tone. “So I can do my own research.”
Arlon arched a brow. “Yeah, Laurie? I’m not stupid. I’m not letting you go there alone.”
I forced a short, brittle laugh and threw my palms up. “I wasn’t planning on it!”
When Arlon deadpanned, unconvinced, I sighed and slumped back into the sofa cushions. “Fine. Whatever, we can wait for backup.”
But I couldn’t wait. Arlon didn’t know how serious this was. Arlon didn’t even know the supernatural was involved. I couldn’t let this be. It would keep me up at night, and I’d gnaw at the thought all day—like a dog with a bone. I had to do somethingnow.
The idea came suddenly, and I hauled myself upright. “Uh, do you mind if I use the bathroom? I gotta…”
Arlon’s suspicious expression melted into mild discomfort. “Oh. Right.” He gestured vaguely down the hallway. “You know where it is.”
I nodded and headed off, my pulse thrumming in my ears. Down the hall, I flicked on the bathroom light. The little sink looked the same as always, old porcelain chipped at the edges. I swallowed around a lump of guilt, then crouched and reached underneath it.
A twinge of memory: Arlon complaining about the pipes and how his landlord refused to fix them properly.
I found the knob—that faulty one he’d shown me once, cursing the landlord’s cheap patch job. Carefully, I twisted. At first, it resisted, but then it gave with a squeak. The moment I heard the sudden gush of water, I winced.
It was wrong. It was cruel. But I did it anyway.
Water hissed out in a torrent, splashing against the basinand filling it, before spilling onto the floor. My stomach flipped, but I pushed back the guilt. I popped my head out the bathroom door, faking a frantic tone. “Arlon, hey—sorry, the pipes are leaking again!”
His responding curse was immediate. “Goddammit.” I heard him stomp toward me, muttering rude unmentionables about his landlord. The second he stepped over the threshold and saw water spraying everywhere, he let out a colorful slew of expletives.
“Ugh, this stupid piece of—argh,” he hissed, already dropping to his knees to fiddle with the valve. “Laurie, just… Can you grab a towel?”
“Sure,” I managed, backing away. The guilt gnawed at me. But I brushed that aside and slipped down the hall toward the living room instead.
Arlon’s phone sat on the coffee table where he’d left it.
I snatched it up and swiped to the maps app. Sure enough, there were the pinned coordinates. My eyes flicked over them, committing them to memory. Then I heard Arlon cursing a fresh wave of watery frustration.
