Silence hung thick in the air like fog when I arrived outside of Fangtasia. I could feel my body stiffen and knew then that something was not only wrong with Pam, but Eric, and that fact put me on edge.
I couldn't lose him now.
Taking a deep breath, I marched across the parking lot and kicked in the front door. Several heads snapped around in my direction; all I saw were their golden orbs and I'd have mistaken them for Were's had the smell of sulfur laced blood not blanketed the atmosphere.
I growled. What the fuck are they doing here?
Their intent was made perfectly clear when the smell of blood and excrement flooded my nostrils. I dropped my gaze from the golden eyes of the many hounds before me and scanned the room.
Bodies of both human and Vampire were strewn about the establishment, corpses twisted into seemingly impossible positions that only a circus performer could manage, some were torn limb from limb. Blood coated the already crimson walls like a new set of paint, the red sheen dripping down the wall and pooling on the hardwood beneath. There were bits of skin and bone everywhere, floating atop the mix of body fluids. It looked like something out of a horror movie, a snuff film even, and I found myself grimacing at the mangled bodies.
I was no stranger to death, to blood, to any grotesque display of gore. But this…it was tasteless. Only someone consumed with an incredible amount of hatred could do something like this.
I glanced around the room. Was Riggs really that important to them that they needed to harm innocent people?
Suddenly, I found myself with a gun pressed to the side of my head and cursed quietly under my breath. I knew it would do no harm, nothing but cause a little pain—nothing I couldn't handle. I'd been shot at plenty of times, and although it was a bitch to deal with in those first few seconds, the bullet usually pushed its way back out, I healed, and everything was fine.
But not now. Everything wasn't fine. I needed to make sure that I restrained myself enough that I didn't get Pam and Eric killed. It would be hard, but for my Keeper, I would do anything.
Even die, I thought grimly. And permanently.
Through the wall of bodies that stood in front of me, I could see Eric and Pam. They were stripped and bound with silver chains and their mouths were stuffed as well. With silver I assumed, and frowned. I could feel the pain Eric was in physically and the emotional pain, the stress that he felt knowing his progeny was in danger and there was nothing he could do.
Even if he wasn't bound, Eric was as good as dead. There was no way he could take on any of these men. They had thousands of years on him, and no matter what their age, were stronger than he could ever hope to be.
But I was stronger than all of them. And regardless of how strong I was, I was outnumbered, and needed to think carefully, come up with a plan to get us all out of here in one piece.
So far, I was drawing a blank.
I swallowed hard and glanced at the hound holding the gun through the corner of my eye. He was no taller than I was, and looked like he was at least eighteen years old. The man's hand shook as he held the weapon to my head and he kept his eyes trained on me, watching me, waiting for me to do move.
"You know that won't kill me," I said.
"Of course. I'm not stupid," he scoffed. "I had to do something to keep you from moving."
I turned my head in his direction and shivered as the cold metal dragged across my skin. The gun was pointed at my forehead now.
"And this puny little thing is supposed to help with that? I could crush it with one hand."
"As could I, but that wouldn't exactly be a smart thing for you to do. These are wooden bullets, Adrian. And if you make any sudden movements, your vampires here will die," he paused and then laughed. "Well, they're going to die anyway, but you'll only speed up the process."
"Tell me, why exactly are you here?"
He narrowed his eyes at me. "I had some loose ends to tie up. Why are you here?"
"Someone tried to kill me. I lived. And now I'm here to make sure no one else dies. Or at the very least, no one else who doesn't deserve it," I looked down at the body parts on the floor. I was standing in what appeared to be an inch or so of blood.
"You should have died," he spat.
I raised an eyebrow. "So, were you the one who ordered the girl to kill me? If so, that was a very foolish thing to do."
"No," he shook his head, "I wasn't. Someone else ordered that. And they ordered this, too."
Not only did whoever put this together want me dead, but everyone who was currently in my life. Anyone who meant anything to me. I wondered who else may have been in danger.
"It wasn't enough to make an attempt on my life, was it?"
"No, and as far as I'm concerned, it never will be. You killed someone's son, Adrian. And because you took away everything they loved, the same will be done to you."
I smiled, despite feeling unnerved. Riggs obviously had a mother—we all did—but like most hounds, we never met our birth parents, or if lucky, had known them for a brief time, if they had lived that long. Had his mother survived and been around this whole time?
Is that why I was almost killed? A mother's revenge for her lost son?
"What are you smiling for? Nothing's funny about this shit," he said.
"Oh, but there is something funny."
"What?" I watched his grip on the gun tighten. He was preparing himself for an attack.
Though, no amount of preparing would save him now.
"The fact that you think I'm just going to sit back and allow this to happen."