Pure Blooded

“That sounds like a perfect plan.” Tingles raced through me at the thought of his hands on my bare skin. “Hey, look.” I gestured toward the back of the cabin, which was just becoming visible as we circled through the trees. “There’s a guesthouse and it has its own fireplace. Dibs.”

 

 

We continued to make our way around, but before we fully stepped out from the cover of the trees, Rourke stilled. “Let’s do some recon first,” he said as he lifted his nose in the air. He shook his head. “I don’t scent a damn thing. Whoever owns this house hasn’t been here in a long time, and even though the lawn was mowed a few weeks ago, there doesn’t seem to be a full-time caretaker living on the grounds. There’s barely anything left in the air, and all of it is human.”

 

I sniffed. “I can smell leftover gasoline and old grass, too, but you’re right, no one has been here for a while.” I glanced up at my mate, my hand caressing his forearm. “This is definitely why whoever wanted us here chose this place. It’s perfect, really. Remote, yet civilized.”

 

“Yes, but remote could equal a problem. It’s quiet enough to kill us all without much interference.”

 

“True, but I think that between the eight of us, we would be able to detect something evil, don’t you think? And if a bomb does drop on our heads, we should be able to fight our way out.”

 

“I do think,” he said. “Which is why we’re standing here and not in the van heading back down the road.”

 

I hit his arm playfully. “If I thought for a second this was a trap, we never would’ve stopped in the first place.”

 

He bent down and brushed my lips with his. “I know,” he chuckled into my mouth, his tongue tracing my bottom lip, “but I like to pretend I make the rules when it comes to your safety. Now, let’s head down to the back door.”

 

We went stealthily, moving fast and staying low. The back door was actually a huge set of French doors. There was an abundance of windows in the home as well, but the shades were drawn, so we couldn’t see in. As we neared, I didn’t sense any movement inside. The lake was to our right, and left us a little exposed, but looking out over it, there wasn’t any other cabin I could see. “I think whoever lives here might own this entire lake,” I said. “I don’t see any other homes and this lake looks like prime real estate.”

 

Rourke grunted, telling me he couldn’t give a rat’s ass who owned it as we rushed up to the door. Once we arrived, he placed a single finger on the doorknob. Nothing happened. “All clear,” he said. “I don’t sense any magic or any movement inside.”

 

A moment later Ray landed on the roof above our heads, and Tyler and Kayla turned around the corner from the east side. I was happy to see she’d followed the program, even though her mouth was set in a thin line. She wasn’t happy about it, but she’d done it.

 

I nodded to her.

 

She ignored me.

 

To my brother I said, Once we get inside, find her some clothes and get her cleaned up. I eyed her tattered nightgown. Looks like she could use some sleep too, though it’s unlikely she will agree to it.

 

Will do. She hasn’t said one word to me, but she didn’t try to run. I’m counting that as a win.

 

Rourke lifted his head and whistled low, signaling it was time to enter. He turned the handle. It was locked. He pushed his shoulder into the door, and it gave with a quick pop. On the other side of the house, James was doing the same thing. Ray broke a window on the second floor and we were all in.

 

The back door swung open into a huge vaulted kitchen–living room combo area. The eating space was nicely appointed with granite counters, expensive lighting, and stainless steel appliances. The living area had three couches, set in a U around a huge fireplace made up of dark stones that reached all the way to the ceiling. There wasn’t much of a cabin feel going on here. It was obvious that the owner had lots of money. James, Marcy, and Nick strode in from a wide hallway on the other side of the kitchen, just as Ray emerged from a stairway nestled between the two spaces. “Nothing up there,” Ray announced. “And it reeks of mothballs. This house has been locked up tight for a long time, maybe years.”

 

Marcy ran her fingertips along the kitchen counter, which was gray veined granite, and then wiped them together. “Dusty,” she said, “but nice. They spared no expense with this place.”

 

I glanced around. “Okay, we’re here, and there’s no apparent threat. So now what?”

 

“I don’t know about you guys”—Marcy walked over to the cabinets and began to open them—“but after I find some chow, I’m taking a breather.” She arched a brow. “And by the sounds coming from your stomach, you could use something to eat too.” She continued down the line, finding only dishes. “Let’s get fed and then we can start to unravel the mystery of this abandoned mansion in the woods.”

 

Ray walked over to the fireplace, picking up an old magazine, and sat down. “Hell, you don’t have to twist my arm to take a break. I need a shower too—”

 

The entire house blinked.