“Coast is clear, boss,” Payday confirmed.
Marcus listened, waiting for some sign of life, as he crept deeper inside, keeping close to the wall. He stared up ahead, with his gun in front fully loaded. Holstered on his chest lay the silver blade to kill vamps, provided to his team by Lady Tenille. Since the wedding, the team had been trained to destroy the vampires as well as the undead. Shadow and Zander spread out to the right and left of him as he proceeded upstairs. The creak of the old wooden floors gave way underfoot. “Do you have a visual of the back entrance, Bear?”
“Copy that, boss.”
“Payday, what about the front entrance?”
“All quiet, boss.”
It was all too damn quiet. If he didn’t know better, he would guess this place had not been used for some time, but the video footage confirmed otherwise. He made a full sweep of the upstairs, checking each room and closet carefully for any clues that would lead them to Issac. But each room was the same as the last one—empty.
“Any sign?” He spoke into his mouthpiece, which connected him to all his men as they searched for any trace of the elusive man.
“Nothing, boss. There’s no one here.”
He shook his head and pushed the last door to his left open, the room now a torturous reminder of the past. This room had belonged to Lady Elizabeth. Standing here now, the enormity of all that had passed between them shook him. She had always been his destiny. Memories rained over him like hailstones. And a sense of impending doom, like the sands of time slipping away, rooted him. Voices beckoned and called to him. Staring at the pale-blue walls and the long curtains, he thought for a moment he could smell Ella, even hear her shouting out his name. This was the room she had been bedded by her husband in his attempt to get her with an heir.
“Drayton, you need to get down here.”
Pulled out from the past, Marcus raced out of the bedroom and ran downstairs. “Where are you, Zander?”
“In the basement. And make it quick.”
“Shadow?”
“Right behind you, boss.”
Marcus glanced over his shoulder and sure enough, the man followed his footsteps. He charged downstairs to the basement. The corridor narrowed to fit one person but split right and left. “Zander, I need more directions.”
“Turn left. There are more stairs. Once you reach the bottom, there are three doors. Take the last one.”
Without hesitation, he followed the directions and ground to a halt right outside a wooden door. This was the moment of truth. He was certain the Morrigan would appear soon, the trap set. Would he ever return to Ella? As he pressed his hand on the door, her vanilla scent filled him with purpose. He listened to gain a sense of who was inside. Once satisfied, he slowly pushed the handle. Facing him was Zander, kneeling on the floor and performing CPR on a man lying still.
“Shit, we need the helo and a medic now.” Marcus had his ground crew at the mansion, but a small team were airborne and on standby, which would be useless if the man died. “Is it Issac?”
He charged over and ran his gaze over the pale man, whose blue eyes stared right ahead. The resemblance to Ella was eerie. He knew without confirmation from Zander’s facial recognition scanner that the target they were looking for lay dying on the ground.
“Yes, I ran the scanner. It’s him. Drayton, he was left here to die. The chains secured him to the wall, and his pulse is faint.”
Marcus rolled his sleeves up and grabbed hold of the heavy chains. If Zander managed to keep the man’s heart pumping, it would be useless if they couldn’t get him the medical attention he needed. He would die right here. On the last night with Ella, he had insisted she drink his blood and perform the ritual, shifting the balance of power between them and reducing his strength. Now, as he pulled the thick silver chains that clanked on the ground, he grit his teeth, drawing all his energy to save this man’s life. Bear helped on the other side.
The bolt connecting the chain to the wall loosened and Marcus fell back. Giving one final tug, the chain released from the stone wall. Glancing back at the man lying still, he saw Issac’s eyes flutter. The door squeaked open and standing there was the Morrigan. The tall woman smiled at him, dressed like before in her leather outfit. But she made no attempt to get closer, which struck him as odd.
“Well, we meet again, warrior. One thing I’ve learned about men is they’re predictable. They’re easy to corrupt, lead astray, and fool.” She tilted her head to the side.
Marcus leapt to his feet and stepped toward her, but she held her hand out, pointing it toward him. He couldn’t move.
“Why would I need a man who never loved me? And as tempting as you are, right now, you stink!”
Marcus couldn’t believe it when the Morrigan disappeared. He ran for the door and down the corridor, searching the upstairs. But the goddess had vanished. Running his hands through his hair, he ran over her last words, which swirled inside his head. She never intended to use him. He had been played,
