“Of course. That’s why we came here,” Stacy answered.
“If you’re sure. I don’t want you fainting.”
Stacy smiled. “I’m not a fan of fainting, either. Let’s go.”
“Kiera will go with you. I’ll keep watch out here.”
Stacy nodded at the dryad, then headed toward another closed set of doors. These were smaller and made only of wood. Kiera finished with the guards and followed her.
The office was smaller than Stacy expected. The curtains were open, revealing the estate beyond and the night sky. The desk was ornate, and shelves full of books lined one wall around a fireplace. The room was cozy, something Stacy couldn’t imagine Victor Corbinelli sitting in. She doubted he was here often.
“What are we looking for?” Kiera asked.
“Anything,” Stacy told her. “Especially if it’s incriminating.”
She jerked open a drawer and found several papers stored in files. She opened one while Kiera scanned the room. The papers were written in a code or a language Stacy had never seen before. Either way, she couldn’t read it. She found another file in the bottom of the drawer with small print at the top reading Project Pack 013.
What did that mean?
She flipped it open, only to find more of that coding. It matched the files Amy had found. We have to figure this out, she thought. The files seemed to be reports, and the only words she could make out were that they seemed to come from someone named Garth. The words on the front of the file stuck out. “Pack” made Stacy groan. If this has to do with fucking werewolves…
She didn’t finish the thought because Kiera spoke up.
“There are runes and sigils all over this room. Protective enchantments. Victor must be paranoid about something. I’ve never seen so many in one place.”
“Something or someone?” Stacy wondered, suspecting there were many secrets in this room.
Rowan suddenly interjected in Stacy’s comm. “Best you girls come back out here. We have company.”
Stacy’s heart stilled. Shit.
It seemed Victor had figured out she wasn’t coming to his gala. Was Amy okay?
Kiera moved swiftly to the window and cursed under her breath. Wanting to see, too, Stacy moved there with her. Several armed men were below, approaching the house.
“I was hoping we’d finished shedding blood tonight,” Stacy muttered.
Kiera cast a wicked smile. “Is that so? I feel the opposite. The fun is just getting started.”
Amy’s feet were sore from walking in heels as she and Spencer hustled through the parking lot behind the hotel. Where the hell was their vehicle?
“We should have parked ourselves,” Spencer stated grimly. “Who knows where the fuck the valet took it?”
Amy remained silent as she searched the lot. At one point, she thought she saw theirs, but it was a similar car owned by someone else. Gods, why did everyone here have to be so damn rich and have a nice car? She half wished Stacy had sent them in a beater. That way, they’d at least have no trouble getting it back.
She strode past several more cars and paused at the mouth of an alleyway. Instinct grabbed her, and she glanced between the two tall buildings. A dumpster was shoved against a fence at the end of the alley. At first, she thought the moving figure beside it was a shadow or animal, but she realized it was a person. He was watching her.
Fuck.
The man was dressed in all black, nicely enough that he wasn’t some guy on the streets. One of Victor’s goons, probably.
Amy whirled, taking two strides before she was in front of Spencer. “We’re being follow—”
She didn’t get the full word out. Someone stepped from the hotel through a back door, scanning the lot as if searching for someone. For us, Amy thought.
She grabbed Spencer’s arm and jerked him down so they were concealed behind a red Maserati. “What do we do?” she whispered. “I think we should fucking face him and make sure no one comes after us.” She was sick and tired of running.
“No, Amy! That’s crazy. We should run. We should have gotten the hell out of here sooner. Victor probably knows that—”
“Hands in the air,” came a hard, cold voice.
Both turned slowly, cringing at the tall man from the alley standing over them, a gun pointed at their heads.
Amy put her hands up, followed by Spencer. They had to think fast. Do something.
She kicked the man in the shin. He cried out. She leaped up, taking off her shoe and throwing it in his face. The heel hit his nose. Spencer punched him, and the gun clattered to the ground, sliding under someone’s car.
“Run!” Amy cried.
No sooner had she said this than someone fired at them from across the lot. A bullet pinged off a nearby car, shattering a mirror. Amy ducked and rolled, cursing her dress and tearing off her other heel.
“Go!” Spencer shouted.
I’m fucking trying!
Amy tore across the lot, evading bullets as they flew.
