Most of the businesses were closed for the night, but a couple of employees mulled around outside. They sat in plastic chairs, drinking beer and playing music. Their laughter floated through Preston’s cracked open window. They paused talking to watch the cab pass by before resuming their conversation.
The taxi turned onto a side road that ran horizontal to the ocean at the end of the street. The paint chipping off the buildings revealed rotten, termite-riddled wood. Some of the buildings sagged like a giant had placed its palm against their roofs and pressed down. The weight of an imaginary giant squishing the buildings would also explain the numerous broken windows.
“Stop here,” Preston said.
The cabby pulled over in front of a droopy, blue building with an open front door, missing shutters, and glass littering the ground in front of its missing windows. The place looked like the only thing to touch it in years was termites, rats, and bats.
Preston opened the door and exited as Dante paid the driver and changed his memory of this ride. The briny scent of seawater filled Dante’s nose when he climbed out to stand beside Preston. He licked the salt from his lips as the slight breeze caused it to stick to his skin and clothes. A few pieces of trash skittered across the road a hundred feet away, but nothing else moved in the growing twilight.
“This is it?” Dante asked.
“Yeah,” Preston said. “The party was on the third floor.”
Dante tilted his head back to take in the third-floor windows. In the growing dusk, he couldn’t make out much about them, but it looked as if something was behind the broken glass pieces clinging stubbornly to the remains of their old existence.
He wasn’t sure any floor could hold their weight, never mind the stairs it would take to get there, but they hadn’t come this far to turn back now. Julie had to be here. If she wasn’t, then he didn’t know where else to look for her.
Dante removed one of the stakes he kept tucked inside his jacket. “Let’s go then.”
Chapter Forty-One
Glass and debris crunched beneath Dante’s feet when he stepped inside the cavernous main room of the dilapidated building. He didn’t understand how this place could stand up against the wrath of Mother Nature, let alone hold a large group of partying humans and vamps.
Rays of fading daylight filtered through the windows and the numerous cracks in the sides of the building. Rats chattered as they wobbled out of their way.
Why would anyone come to a party here? Dante marveled. His idea of a good time and Preston’s idea of a good time were two completely different things.
Preston led the way through the main room and into some smaller back rooms. The air was redolent with the ripe aroma of fish. He guessed it was either once a fish market or a storm had washed thousands of fish into here at some point, and the rats had feasted on them.
When they entered another back room, the light spilling in from a broken window high in the wall revealed a set of stairs. Dante eyed them warily and craned his head to see into the shadows above. He could barely make out the top of the stairs as the shadows lengthened in the dwindling daylight.
Dante paused before stepping onto the stairs. He didn’t think they’d hold one of the too fat rats, never mind him, but Preston didn’t hesitate. The stairs creaked as Preston climbed, but they held steady; Dante reluctantly followed him.
If they did collapse, he hoped a stray piece of wood didn’t stake him on the way down. When they arrived at the second-floor landing, Preston continued on to the third floor. Dante was a little wary of how much confidence Preston had in the stairs, but he’d come this far; it was too late for second-guessing.
They were halfway to the third floor when Dante clasped Preston’s arm, holding him in place. When Preston turned toward him, Dante lifted a finger to his lips. With the sunlight rapidly fading, the inside of the warehouse was growing steadily darker, but Dante could see the impatience on Preston’s face.
Still, he didn’t move as he strained to hear something more. The breeze whistled through the holes in the walls, and the rats squeaked, but he didn’t detect anything else. If someone else was in the building, they were extremely quiet, or the soundproofing on the third floor was exceptional.
“Let me go first,” he whispered to Preston.
Preston rested his back against the wall to let Dante pass. His shoulder brushed against Preston’s chest as he crept up the stairs. Dante didn’t like having his back to Preston. He kept his senses attuned to the building and Preston in case the kid decided to attack him.
When he reached the landing, there was only a few feet of space between him and the heavy metal door across from him. The locks on the outside of the door gave him pause. Opal had spent a lot of money securing some of her locations, but then, she’d also made a lot of money off them.
She wouldn’t want anyone coming back here after the party was over and snooping around or vandalizing things. He didn’t like the sight of those locks, but they made sense, and there was no turning back now.
Dante half turned toward Preston as he stepped off the stairs and onto the small landing. Sweat beaded his forehead, his eyes were wide, and his skin paler than usual. If he had murderous intentions running through his head, he was covering them well.
When Dante tried the knob, he wasn’t surprised it turned beneath his hand. He clutched his stake tighter as he pushed open the door. It creaked as it swung inward, and after a couple of feet, its rusty hinges stopped its inward swing. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins as he stepped back in preparation of something rushing out at him.
The flames of dozens of
