Page 30 of Luka

“No.” Eleazar hissed. “He’s not whispered to be the boogeyman. He’s the guy the boogeyman fears, Shayde. If he doesn’t get Spencer back, and in one piece, alive and unharmed, Ridgeway will see a war the likes of which we haven’t seen in centuries. He will unleash his wrath on our beloved city, will personally kill anyone with fangs, and… Who is Ross?”

“Wolf shifter,” Shayde said. “He works for Lazarus.”

This just kept getting worse by the second. Eleazar groaned as he turned away and headed to the window overlooking the city below. Luka would not only kill every vampire in Ridgeway but every wolf shifter, too.

He would cause a bloodbath that would undoubtedly gain the attention of the human authorities. This was a shitshow waiting to happen, a powder keg on the verge of being ignited. Eleazar had to defuse the situation before it was too late.

“I know I sounded all doom-and-gloom when I walked in, but is Luka really that good?”

“Better,” Eleazar said without turning around.

“I’ll gather our men,” Shayde said. “We’ll find Spencer and kill Ross.”

“No.” Eleazar turned around to face Shayde. “Leave Ross for Luka. He’ll need someone to unleash his rage on.”

“And Lazarus?”

Eleazar curled his lip. “Bring him to me.”

* * * *

Spencer had run the gamut of emotions, ranging from downright terrified, sobbing because he wanted his mate, to being pissed off. Ross hadn’t taken Spencer right to Lazarus, not that Spencer knew what Lazarus looked like.

No, Ross had taken Spencer to some shit house that looked like it should have been condemned ages ago. Now Spencer was stuck in the back bedroom, the window nailed shut, and he could hear music coming from somewhere in the house.

Ross had taken Spencer’s cell phone and tossed it out the car window, but the idiot hadn’t patted him down, so he had no clue that Spencer still had the button. Luka had said he could track Spencer with it, and god, he hoped so.

Spencer wasn’t sure what Ross planned to do with him before he handed him over to Lazarus, and he didn’t want to find out. He just prayed Luka got there soon.

When the door opened, Spencer took a step back. He might be pissed as hell, but he was still scared, too.

Someone Spencer had never seen before brought in a plate and a glass of milk. He set them down on the unbalanced nightstand, the milk looking close to sliding off. “As soon as our guy comes to pick you up, you’ll be out of our hair.”

“But I thought Ross was supposed to take me to Lazarus.” Not that Spencer wanted anyone to take him to the head honcho.

“No one simply waltzes into Lazarus’s home,” the guy said. “We’re using a broker.”

Whatever that was. Spencer had no idea, but it sounded as if he was being sold off, and the thought made him want to escape as quickly as possible. “Afraid of your own boss?”

The stranger grabbed Spencer by the throat. “Keep mouthing off and I’ll ignore Ross’s orders not to harm you.”

“Screw you.” Spencer didn’t bother trying to knock the guy’s hand away. It would be useless considering his size. “When Luka finds you morons, you’ll have bigger problems than following Ross’s orders.”

Spencer wasn’t sure why he was talking so much smack when the guy had his hand wrapped around his throat and a look of pure enjoyment in his eyes, as if he’d take great pleasure in making Spencer hurt.

He knew that look because Lyle had worn it many times right before he beat the crap out of Spencer. His uncle had been one sick puppy, and Spencer often wondered how on earth his father and Lyle could have been brothers. They’d been the complete opposite of each other.

Whereas Spencer’s father had been loving and gentle, Lyle had been downright ruthless.

The stranger let Spencer go. “Eat. Wouldn’t want anyone saying we starved you.”

Like Spencer was going to eat anything these douchebags gave him. He wasn’t born yesterday. For all he knew, the food or milk could have been drugged, rendering Spencer unconscious so the handoff could go smoothly.

He was hungry, but thankfully, the food looked unappealing. Spencer couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be chipped beef or if someone had barfed on the plate.

Taking his insanity a notch higher, Spencer walked over to the rickety nightstand and flipped the plate over, the contents oozing down the side of the bed. “Go to hell.”

The guy chuckled. “You’re the one who’ll be hungry, not me.”

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