“That leaves only two more,” he said quietly. “Right?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Viktor would have never agreed to this if I’d told him I was uncertain how many guards there were in the house. Darius mentioned four in conversation, but he could have been lying.
Shepherd reached for the doorknob and opened the door. “Did you finish him off?” he whispered.
Finish, as in beheaded.
“Hell no,” I whispered back. “I’m going to leave my dagger in his chest and pick it up on the way out. You might be able to use him for questioning.”
Shepherd’s jaw set.
I flounced into the adjoining room. Sure, I could have popped his core light and killed him the easy way, but time was ticking, and killing a guy for blocking a doorway didn’t seem like a necessity.
The kitchen was bereft of color or other decorative items one might find, like fruit bowls or sugar canisters. Light trickled in from a window by the side door, illuminating the white tile and matching cabinets. Shepherd moved quietly to the left and turned the lock.
Christian filled the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb on his left arm, one foot crossed in front of the other, his other fist anchored against his hip as if he’d been collecting dust for hours.
Just outside the kitchen was the entrance of the house—front door to the left and a hall and enclosed stairwell to the right. I knew there was a hall on the other side of the living room, so I nudged Shepherd and pointed in that direction. “Check out the rooms on the other side.”
Christian put his arms around us, poking his head in the middle. “Lest you forget, I can hear a sight better than you. Everyone’s upstairs. Bottom floor’s empty.”
I shrugged him off and headed up the steps, gripping my only remaining weapon: a push dagger. Most of my good stunners were in my bag, which was either somewhere in this house or in an incinerator. We ascended the steps, and Shepherd brandished a knife and jogged past us.
“He likes to be the hero,” Christian said quietly.
“And what about you?”
“I approach battle like sex.”
I snorted. “Infrequently?”
He took an extra step so he was ahead of me. “When you get wrapped up in emotions, you make mistakes. There’s never a reason to hurry. Take your time, assess the situation, and you’ll always come out on top. Men who get excited and hurry never do the job right.”
We reached the second floor and realized there wasn’t a door. It was pitch-black, and I could barely make anything out. It looked like someone had remodeled the inside to resemble an office building, with a long hall and several doors. It made it impossible to hide, let alone flee if someone attacked us. We turned left and approached an intersecting hall that led to the right, cutting across the building.
Christian held his arm in front of me and placed his index finger against his lips. Shepherd kept going straight, his hand brushing against the wall as he attempted to maneuver through the dark. I suspected he was also using his Sensor abilities to read emotional imprints.
Christian and I neared the middle hall that Shepherd had passed, and as soon as we turned right, we noticed a Mage on the other side, leaning against a door.
I’d never seen a Vampire shadow walk up close, but watching Christian float through the darkness without making a sound was breathtaking. One minute he was by my side, and the next, in front of the Mage.
Shepherd barked out a curse, and a fight erupted in a nearby room. The Mage in front of Christian started to move, but Christian struck him in the head with a powerful blow.
I ran back to the stairs and charged up to the third level, my heart pounding with adrenaline. As I emerged from the stairwell, a Mage on the left was barreling toward me like a tornado, his fists pumping in the air. Because he couldn’t see in the dark, he wasn’t using his Mage energy and his pace was unsteady. I jumped when a gunshot went off on a floor above.
The Mage drew a gun, and I wondered why Darius felt safe arming his men with such ineffective weapons. I flattened my back against the wall, deciding not to waste my efforts on this idiot when my real target was Darius.
After he passed me and vanished down the stairs, I opened the door to a middle room and shone my light in, not caring if anyone spotted me. When I saw it was empty, I crossed to the door on the opposite side. This place felt more like a maze than a home. Who could live like this? Darius made such a fuss about land and property, yet his own home felt more like a prison or a mental institution. If there were windows, they only existed in the outer rooms, which were all closed off.
As soon as I stepped into the hall and turned right, I ran into someone.
Wyatt stumbled backward, his eyes wide. A small penlight fell out of his hand and tapped noisily across the floor.
“It’s me,” I whispered. “Raven.”