The woman at the desk looked almost identical to the woman who'd been there earlier. Only her shoes were different—red instead of black. I wondered if they were twins, or whether Marshall simply preferred a certain look.
The next set of doors opened and the stink of vampire, booze, and lust hit like a hammer, snatching my breath and sending me stumbling. Azriel caught me again, his grip gentle yet strong, filled with a heat that leapt from his skin to mine. It chased away the fear, chased away the aches, and this time I didn't immediately pull away from the sensation. I very much suspected I'd need that inflow of strength if I was going to make it through the hours ahead.
We moved deeper into the club, heading not toward Marshall's office but rather toward the elevators. The blue and purple fire of the swords pierced the shadows, briefly illuminating the gaunt faces and haunted, glowing eyes of the vampires closest to us. Hunger was rife in the room, so thick I could have carved it with a knife. I edged a little closer to Azriel and wondered why Hunter had chosen this place, of all damn places, to meet. She was the one who'd warned it would be dangerous for me to be here at night, and yet here she was, risking the life of someone she supposedly valued.
It is merely another form of warning, Azriel said.
I glanced at him. Of what? Behave, or you'll be vampire meat?
Yes. His gaze met mine. She does not like your offhand manner in dealing with her.
I snorted softly. She can read my thoughts—she has to know I'm scared shitless by her, and that my manner is nothing more than false bravado.
She can read some thoughts, but not all. He half shrugged. She has been alive a very long time. It becomes very easy for the old ones not only to lose humanity, but to expect certain levels of deference.
Subservience, you mean.
If she expected subservience, you would be dead.
I half smiled—an expression that quickly died as I followed Hunter and Marshall into the elevator. Being stuck in a small metal box with those two and going down into the bowels of what had become little more than an abattoir was not my idea of a good time. But if I edged any closer to Azriel, I'd be crawling into his pockets. What did you mean, some thoughts, not all?
Just that.
So the nano cells are working? I knew they were, but I still needed reassurance—at least when it came to Hunter.
Yes. She is only picking up minor bits and pieces.
My gaze searched his for a moment. How the hell do you know this? I mean, Hunter's no slouch when it comes to telepathy, and I can't imagine you'd have easy access into her mind.