This was a private place, one huge room, divided into sections by furniture groupings. The place reeked of the Damours, their scent patterns overlapping and intermingled. I knew what they wanted now, I knew what they were trying to do, and the knowledge made the stink stronger, darker, permeated with evil, though surely that was only my imagination.
A large dining area was to my right with a table to seat twelve; a larger living space was ahead, with lots of leather. Two sleeping areas were just beyond, each with king-sized beds made up with fur. Lots of real fur. Vamps liked lounging on dead things. By the smell, this was a major lair of the Damours. I made sure the huge apartment was empty, finding a small but ornate bathroom tucked away in a nook, but no other individual rooms. Again the decor involved a lot of marble--floors, walls, pillars holding up the roof--but the color scheme was black and red, with black marble and deep scarlet fabrics. I stopped and turned, scenting with mouth open. Something was wrong. Something was missing.
No humans, Beast murmured. No human blood. They do not feed here.
"Or they don't feed on human blood here." My body tightened, hard and sharp.
I walked to the beds and lifted a pillow to me. Bliss's scent wafted out. Bliss and sex. The Damours were feeding off witches. Fury-fear spiraled up in me, flaming and icy, electric. Angelina? I climbed across the bed, mouth open, dragging in air over tongue and nose with a scagghing sound. Relief shuddered through me. Angie hadn't been savaged here. But what I did smell brought me up short.
The vamp on the landing below had been in the beds of the Damours, recently. So had other vamps, including Bettina, Rousseau Clan master. I lifted a pillow and breathed in her scent, the stink of her sweat. It was laced with fear. She had not been here willingly. She had wanted to escape them. I should have gone to visit when she asked.
"Princess?"
I twisted on one knee and saw Derek at the door.
"We're ready to take the heads of the rogues on the cots."
"Belay that. Until we find the kids, these particular rogue vamps get a pass. If we kill them, then there's no reason to keep Angelina and Little Evan alive."
He nodded his head, but it was resigned. "Fine. We can use them as bait." He looked at his watch. "Time." He meant time to go.
"One more minute," I bargained.
"Baldy just disabled one of my men and took off. Sixty seconds and me and my men are outta here."
Discarding any pretense of human speed, I raced from the bed and slammed open the armoires on the back wall, the doors rocking and banging as I passed. They faced the windows, all of them dark wood, carved with curlicues and flowers and leaves, dragons and gargoyles, faces out of legend and nightmare. Vamp scent roiled out of each until the next to last. And from it witch scent rose, fresh and potent and powerful.
I paused, hands clenching on my weapons. "They were here. The children." There was a mattress on the floor of the armoire, sheets and a blanket, small shackles on long chains. And a doll. A black-haired doll with yellow eyes, like mine. Ka Nvsita. The doll I gave to Angie.
Icy fear sliced through me. Tears stung my eyes. I sheathed the shotgun and picked up the doll. The scent of Angie's fear and the salt of her tears were ripe in the doll's clothes. But there was no scent of blood. I thanked God for small favors as I closed the door and secured the doll inside my leather jacket. "They were here only moments ago. How did they get by us?"
I looked at the last two armoires. Maybe . . . ? The next held paintings, stacked in tightly. I yanked one out and saw a witch circle and pentagram. And vampires. And children. And lots of blood. "Derek? Get a couple of men up here and take these"--I nodded to the paintings--"as many as you can." He started to refuse but I passed him the painting. His mouth twisted down, hard, and he spoke into his headset.
The last armoire wasn't an armoire. When I pulled the door, a black space yawed open, a narrow stair leading down into darker night. The smell of sex, witch, and vamp led down. I remembered the utility area on the side of the building. I hadn't seen a door but one could be hidden there easily enough. "Derek?" When he looked at me, his shotgun out, braced across his body, I said, "They went this way. It leads down. Look for a passageway through the garage or a door to the outside. I'm taking the stairs."
Derek cursed with a marine's efficiency and disappeared, directing two men to take the paintings and get them into the van. I started down the stairs.