“So should we sit down here?” I scanned the area. Nobody was around, and I wasn’t opposed to finding a quiet area to rest our eyes.
His eyebrows shot up. “You want to sleep here? What, in the grass or something?”
I shrugged. “Have you got a better idea?”
“Actually, yes. I don’t know if this area is secure, so we’ll return to my base, but before we do, I want to search the asylum. It’s possible they left clues behind or something that will tell us why your sister was abducted.”
I straightened, some of my fatigue disappearing. “Of course. Good idea.”
The Fire Wolf grabbed the asylum’s front door—a heavy monstrosity of solid metal covered in peeling paint—and tested it. It groaned but didn’t budge.
I couldn’t help but think about horror movies in which the characters entered the building when they obviously should have run away from the inevitable doom lurking inside. I focused on the bond with Tessa again. The initial vibration I’d felt had been reduced to a slight quiver. She was definitely gone from here.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked as the hunter assessed the lock. “The floors in there could be rotted so we may fall through, and if they thought the SF may be onto them, they could have left booby-traps.”
An amused smirk tilted his lips. “Did you just say booby-traps?”
“And if I did?”
A low laugh rumbled in his chest. “If there are booby-traps, I’ll deal with them.” With a massive wrench, he pulled the ginormous barrier open, breaking right through the lock. The door scraped across the pavement making the most unpleasant screeching noise. But despite the thick padlock and rusty hinges, the Fire Wolf had made opening it look like child’s play.
I planted a hand on my hip. “Are you ever going to tell me what you are?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You know what I am. I’m a hunter.”
I rolled my eyes and peered within the asylum. A black abyss waited. “I take it that’s a no.”
“Your intelligence is turning out to be just as adequate as your memory.”
“Okay, Mr. Comedian. So now what?” I peered inside again but made no move to enter. This was definitely turning into the makings of a horror movie.
“Isn’t this where I say ladies first?”
I was about to poke him in the chest, but then remembered I may lose a finger for doing that, so I settled with crossing my arms. “I hired you, remember? You go first.”
He brought a hand to his chest. “You think so little of me? I was trying to be a gentleman.”
I snorted quietly at the twinkle in his eyes. “You might help homeless kids in Portland, but I have a feeling that gratuity doesn’t extend to perfectly capable women who work nine to five and pay their taxes.”
A light wind picked up, ruffling his dark hair. Gods, he was so sexy. “You’re really not going to let that one go, are you?”
I quickly looked away, anywhere but at him. When he looked like that, I wanted to step closer to him. “What can I say? I felt judged.”
He flashed me a grin, and damn the man for looking so good. Nobody should be allowed to wear a smile like that. It made me want to sell a kidney for him.
“And if I apologized?” he asked innocently.
“Would you mean it?”
“What if I did? Would it matter if I said I was sorry?”
My heart rate sped up, thumping away like a frantic bird trying to escape my chest. When he looked at me like that—with his amber-hued eyes smoldering like an inferno just waiting to burst to life—and now sounded like that . . .
Well, it was enough for me to want to sell two kidneys, which obviously wasn’t smart. Pretty sure I needed at least one.
“I don’t know,” I said, then cleared my throat. Damn, had I really just sounded breathless? “It might help.”
A slight glow lit his fiery eyes as his nostrils flared. I could only imagine the aroused scent I was giving off. That amused smirk returned before he said, “I’m mostly sorry for how I judged you at the Black Underbelly.”
His half apology had my eyes widening. I debated between laughing at him or punching him. “What do you mean mostly?”
“Because I was right about one thing—you do pay your taxes and work nine to five, but you’re anything but an average supernatural.”
A tingle of unease traveled down my spine. “What makes you say that?”
“I saw enough in Portland to know that you can handle yourself in a fight. Most average supernaturals can’t.” He cocked his head. “I’ll admit, I was surprised. Your scent is that of a weak witch, so I know your magic isn’t strong, which means you have actual fighting skills, like a human would.”
My shoulders relaxed. “So, you’re saying I’m like a human? A vainer supernatural would be offended at that comment.”
“But you’re not offended, are you?”
I paused, doing my best to school my expression. I was anything but offended. I was freakin’ ecstatic. He thought I was a weak witch and that my skills were from knowing how to throw a punch. My cloaking spell—a spell that I always had in place to hide my strong magic was fooling even him. He had no idea about the magic that lay in my veins, which also meant he had no clue about my forbidden power. This was exactly why I’d paid the money to hire him. We’d started searching for Tessa faster than the SF would have, and my secret was still safe.
I shrugged, doing my best to hide my gloating. “Nope, I’m not offended.”
Mr. Smarty-pants smirked, then stepped over the asylum’s threshold. “Since you insisted that I go first . . .”
I followed him and then added, “But since we’re being candid, care to tell me why Miranda called you Kaillen?”
His footsteps stopped, and he peered back at me. “She didn’t call me that.”
“Oh yes, she did.”
His shoulders lifted. “In that case, I have no idea.”
“That’s all you’re going to say? No idea?”
He didn’t reply and resumed walking.
I followed behind him, intent on asking more, but the morning sunlight vanished as we both stepped into the asylum’s foyer. A prickling sense of foreboding shot along my nerves, and my interest in the name Kaillen vanished. “This place is . . .” I shuddered.
“Yeah, I can say the same.”
The asylum was creepy with a capital C. Long, echoing halls stretched out around us, and a double staircase curved upward from the foyer. It wasn’t so much the building or how it looked that gave me the creeps, it was more the feeling of the place. It felt haunted, and not in a good way, and the temperature . . . it’d just plummeted, and it felt as if icy spiders walked up my spine.
An image abruptly filled my mind of my sister bound, gagged, and held inside this eerie place. It was enough of a reminder of why we were here for me to snap out of the web the hunter was weaving around me. I shouldn’t be interested in learning more about him, or whether or not his name was Kaillen. All that mattered was finding Tessa.
“Let’s get this search over with, then get some rest so you can scry again. We need to find my sister.”
I felt him follow behind me. I no longer cared who went first.
“Can you still sense her?” he asked as we crept down one hall. It got darker the farther we went. It was as if the asylum swallowed any remaining daylight.
I searched inside myself again for the bond. A mere tingle of it remained, but I latched on to it and closed my eyes, focusing on its subtle power. My body tilted right, propelling me in that direction. My breath caught as I opened my eyes.