"Your uncle is more than capable of keeping information from your aunt," Azriel commented. "He is Aedh as much as vampire, remember."
"Yeah, but she's one hell of a telepath." And she could spot someone keeping a secret a mile away. How the hell I'd managed to keep the fact I was working for Hunter to myself for so long, I'll never know.
Of course, it did help that I'd recently missed our weekly cake and Coke catch-up sessions. If I hadn't, I'd probably be locked up somewhere right now while she gathered the troops and took off after Hunter.
"I still think you should talk to him," Azriel said. "He might also be able to offer suggestions when it comes to Hunter and Stanford."
"Maybe." I drained the can of Coke, smothered a loud burp, then added, "Let's go check out that warehouse first. If we have no luck there, I'll consider talking to Uncle Quinn."
Azriel nodded, then rose and held out a hand. I placed my fingers in his and he tugged me upward. I grabbed my coat, then locked the front door and once again melted into the warmth of his arms. A heartbeat later we were outside the old West Street warehouse that contained the first of the cuneiform stones we'd found.
It was one of those old two-story, redbrick places inner-city renovators seemed to love. The wind rattled the rusted iron roof and whistled through the small, regularly spaced windows, many of which were broken, but overall it was in pretty good shape. Like many of the other buildings in the area, its walls were littered with graffiti and tags, and rubbish lay in drifting piles along its length.
But while it looked abandoned, there was an odd, almost watchful stillness about the place. It was a stillness that seemed to affect the immediate surrounds, which were unnervingly quiet. Even the roar of the traffic traveling along nearby Smith Street seemed muted.
I shivered, despite the heat rolling off the man standing so close. "Can you sense anything or anyone in or near the warehouse?"
He shook his head and pressed his fingers against my spine, ushering me forward. "Nothing but rats."
"Just like last time," I murmured. And I had to hope it was a case of second time lucky when it came to this place. I really didn't fancy falling into a pit and I certainly didn't want to confront more damn hellhounds.
There were two entrances here on West Street. The first one was heavily padlocked and seemed to lead into an old office area. The other was a roller door over what had once been a loading bay, and this was where we'd gotten in previously. I glanced down at the bottom-right-hand edge. Someone had obviously tried to fix the hole, because it was far smaller than it used to be. But there was still a section that provided just enough of a gap for a skinny person – which I certainly was these days – to get in.
"The real question here," Azriel said, "is whether you'll be able to get in this time."
"And if I can, do I really want to?" I rubbed my arms, but it didn't do much to chase away the gathering chill. "I haven't even got Jak to shore up my courage this time."
"No," he said softly. "But you could destroy the wards. That would allow me entry."