“Get up, bitch,” he growled.
Sid didn’t move, just stared at him defiantly. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
Pinto gave her a cruel smile, and, moving faster than her human eyes could follow, he zipped across the room and grabbed the youngest of the women, the same one who’d called him pretty. She cried out, hanging from his hard grip and whimpering softly.
“Get up,” he repeated to Sid. “Or I’ll drink her dry and leave the husk.”
Sid tried to put all the hatred she felt into her stare as she stood, keeping her back against the wall. “Leave her alone,” she demanded. “You want me. I’m here.”
“How touching,” Pinto sneered. But he opened his fingers, releasing the teenager. She dropped to the floor with a clatter of chains, then crawled over to rejoin the knot of terrified captives.
“Come then, Sidonie Reid. Let’s find out why a cold bastard like Aden would find you so irresistible.”
Sidonie walked slowly, steeling herself to make a break for it when she hit the doorway. But she never got there. A deafening noise suddenly rocked the house, a loud crack of wood followed by a hard slam of something heavy and flat crashing to the floor. Like the heavy front door. Her heart soared as she realized Aden must have found her, that rescue was at hand, not just for her but for the other women. She opened her mouth to scream, to let Aden know where she was, but before she could so much as draw a breath, Pinto was on her. One of his hands gripped her waist, pinning her to his side, the other covered her mouth as he dragged her away from the living room to the opposite end of the hallway which opened to the kitchen.
It sounded like war had broken out behind them, with the steady sound of gunfire and men shouting coming from the living room. Sid knew a moment of fear for Aden before she was jerked back to her own danger as Pinto slammed her against the hallway wall hard enough to knock her breath away. He flattened himself against her, his hand over her mouth, and they hung there a long moment as Pinto seemed to listen intently to something in the kitchen. And then just as abruptly, they were moving again.
Sid fought as much as she could, but Pinto was a vampire. His strength far exceeded hers, and he didn’t mind hurting her. She strained to hear what was going on in the living room. With one exception, Pinto’s henchmen were human. If that was Aden out there, and her gut told her it was, Pinto’s human gangbangers didn’t stand a chance.
He wrenched her to a stop one more time, holding her just short of the doorless opening between the kitchen and living room. He froze, filthy fingers over her mouth, his arm around her ribs so tightly that she could barely breathe. She thought she knew why he was waiting. The door to the driveway was on the other side of the kitchen, and Pinto would have to pass right in front of the living room opening to get there. Even at vampire speeds, they would be in full view of the living room for a few precious seconds.
Pinto held her in place, muttering almost silently, trying to persuade himself to make a break for it, insisting no one would notice and cursing Aden in the same breath. Sid twisted and turned, trying to make noise, to knock something over and give away their position, but Pinto had her crushed face first up against the open shelves of a pantry cabinet, the edges digging into her cheek, her breasts, her thighs. Cold air from the wide-open door to the outside brushed over her face, and if she rolled her eyes sideways she could see the opening.
Pinto’s muscles tightened. His muttering became more urgent, and Sid knew he was steeling himself for the final dash to freedom. This was her moment of truth. She either acted now, or she surrendered her freedom and maybe her life.
Her left arm was trapped awkwardly by the steel band of Pinto’s grip and the shelf that was jammed against her chest. But her right arm was free from her elbow down. Gritting her teeth, praying Pinto was too busy with his own worries to pay attention to what she was doing, Sidonie slid her right hand down over her belly. She moved slowly, curling her fingers into claws and gathering up the double layer of her hoodie and T-shirt, sliding beneath it until she met the tight edge of her bellyband. She paused then, testing his reaction. But he seemed so focused on the dangerous invaders in his living room that he’d already disregarded his human hostage as a threat.
Leaving her hand flattened over her belly, she waited until he made his move, until he dragged her past the cracked porcelain sink, moving vampire-fast as they popped into full view of the living room and then past it. He hesitated once more, just long enough to lean forward and sniff the air outside the driveway door, and Sid made a move of her own.
Shoving her hand under the bellyband, she curled shaking fingers around the grip of the small 9mm. It felt solid in her hand, heavy, as she inched it out of the holster, as she sucked in a deep breath of courage. And then with an effort that was more awkward than graceful, she bent her elbow, twisted the gun until it was jammed it against Pinto’s chest, and pulled the trigger over and over until the slide locked back and there was nothing left to fire.
ADEN DIDN’T WASTE any time on elaborate strategies. According to Elias, whom they’d met up with as scheduled, Pinto had only one vampire left from the crew that Aden had decimated only days before. The rest were human, mostly gangbangers who were happy to act as guards and enforcers. The pay was good and the risk was low. Or it had been before tonight. Tonight, hell itself was going to descend on them in the form of one pissed-off vampire lord.
The target house was in a far worse neighborhood than the previous one. Pinto probably felt safer here. The authorities rarely ventured down these streets, usually only in response to overt violence, and there was nothing about this house to draw unwanted attention.
Aden’s vamps had parked their SUVs halfway down the block, flashing their fangs blatantly as they climbed out, so there’d be no question of whom potential thieves were dealing with. And just to be sure, Aden had sent out a very clear don’t-fuck-with-me message on a wave of power that even the dullest human would understand. They’d brought three vehicles in case there were captives who needed transport, and he didn’t want to come back to find all of them stripped for parts.
They walked the short distance to the house, pausing while Aden sent out a tight thread of power, scanning the house and its occupants. Sidonie was definitely inside, definitely still alive, though he couldn’t tell if she was hurt. He needed to get in there.
“One outside guard,” he observed tightly to Bastien, who stood next to him. “Human, right side of the house.”
Bastien nodded. “There’s a side door there. Probably means no back door.”
“I expected more,” Aden commented, searching the dark spaces on either side of the house, using his power to scan the house and yard, looking for more guards.
“Pinto might be short on people. They lost a lot of manpower at the slave house,” Bastien suggested.
Aden didn’t trust possibilities, but he trusted what his own senses could tell him.
“All right. Kage, you go ahead and take out that guard. When you hear us come through the front door, you join us.”
“Sire,” Kage acknowledged and took off, gliding across the street like a shadow over the moon. He didn’t bother asking how he’d know when Aden and the others got inside. He knew as well as any of them that there would be nothing subtle about Aden’s entry.
“The rest of us go in the front, quick and dirty,” Aden said, stating the obvious. “The door goes down, we go in. There’s Pinto and one other vamp, but a dozen or more humans. Some of those might be slaves, so kill everything that moves unless it’s female. We’ll sort out the rest later.”
“And Pinto, my lord?” That was Freddy. Always up for a fight, and the real fight here tonight would be Carl Pinto.
“Pinto is mine,” Aden said, one side of his mouth lifting in a half grin. “You can have the other one. Let’s do this.”
Aden crossed the street without waiting for the others, striding up the broken concrete walkway, taking the three steps to the porch in a single bound. As his foot hit the wide porch, he gathered his power into a battering ram of pure energy and shoved it front of him. The heavy door with its metal sheeting and reinforced hinges cracked down the middle like a piece of rotted wood. Freddy stepped in front of Aden and, turning sideways, kicked the shattered door inward where it fell with a loud, booming, slap of noise.
Gunfire erupted from the human guards clustered in the front room, increasing as those who’d been knocked off their feet by the original entry found their wits and their weapons and began fighting for their lives. Freddy went down under a spray of bullets from a submachine gun. Aden caught the rich scent of his blood and sent a shaft of healing energy to his vampire child, pausing to grip his shoulder as he went past. Lifting his gaze to the human who’d fired the weapon, Aden grabbed him by the throat with one hand, cupped his other hand under the man’s chin, and twisted, breaking his neck with a speed and strength no human could hope to match.
He caught movement in the hallway and turned just as one of the guards herded several terrified women ahead of him into the front room. A quick glance told him his vampires had the other guards well in hand, so he turned his attention to the coward who would use slaves as a shield for his own worthless life.
“Let me go, or I’ll kill ’em all,” the man shouted, his voice cracking with fear. He had his arm hooked beneath the jaw of a teenaged girl, the barrel of his weapon jabbed against her neck.
Aden eyed the man with the kind of hatred he saved for those who would enslave others, who abused them for money or pleasure. “Go to hell,” he growled.
The man glared back at him, his eyes too bright, his heartbeat loud in Aden’s ears. He was high as a kite, his chest puffed up with overblown arrogance. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, asshole. Now, get the fuck out of my way, or they all die, starting with this one.” He shoved his gun into the girl’s neck, and she cried out as it sliced into her skin, drawing blood.
Aden’s gaze went hooded as he studied the man. “That bit about going to hell?” he drawled, then snapped out a hand and wrenched the weapon from the man’s grip, seizing him around the neck with the other. “It wasn’t a suggestion.”
