63. Silas

Carlos's house was an ode to bad taste and too much money. I had no issue with the rustic aesthetic, but fuck me, the prick's interior designer wanted shooting. Scores of animal heads stared down at me from the walls. It was creepy as fuck.

The closer we got to the lower levels, the more I smelled blood and bodily secretions. Carlos had obviously got careless about his security. For a man with a lot to lose, he didn't have that many guards on duty.

We soon dealt with the guards we came across. A maid made the mistake of walking through a door at the wrong time. One look at us, a mix of wolves and humans, and she ran for her life.

While the temptation to treat her as prey was strong, nobody chased her. She wasn't the target.

Was Eva here? I reached out in my mind, testing the connection to see if she answered. At first, there was just an empty void of nothingness, then as I stepped into a stairwell, I felt it.

A brief flare.

From the way Tanner and Cole stumbled to a halt, they felt her, too.

Eva! Where are you?

Silas! Help me!

An overwhelming sense of terror swept over me, but it wasn't my emotion, it was hers.

She was in trouble.

She needed us.