The meeting point was super creepy. The address the guy gave me for the transaction led me to an abandoned warehouse. Nothing good ever happened in an abandoned warehouse. I'd seen enough horror movies to know that much—it was NEVER a good idea.
But what choice did I have?
I had shared my location with Mary beforehand. She had tried to convince me not to go, but she also understood. She didn't have much more money to help me, and she had no leads on how to get some. So, in the end, she let me go, under the condition that I kept my location on at all times and gave her the address and phone number of the Shady One—her name for them, not mine.
I entered through the back door. It resisted at first, then creaked open with a long, eerie groan. A few cobwebs floated down as I stepped inside.
Nice. I hated spiders.
The place was pitch black. The only sound was water dripping somewhere in the distance. And the smell—God, the smell. It was rancid.
Definitely nothing arousing about this scent.
Old, moldy walls. Rotting wood. And the stench of dead rats.
I dared to step further in, almost gagging.
"Hello?"
"Hey, little one. Long time no see."
For a moment, I froze.
But it wasn't Cairn's scent. It wasn't his tone.
The voice, though—I knew it.
A flashlight flicked on, and the man stepped forward. Humans couldn't see as well as werewolves in the dark. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing tattoos snaking down his arms. That's when it hit me.
The guy from the club. The one I had outrun.
"Don't worry, my love, I won't hurt you," he said, voice smooth, calculated. "I just want what you promised, and then I'll be out of your hair."
My eyes flicked down. A gun was tucked into his waistband.
Smart. He knew I was dangerous.
"I have what you came for," I said, keeping my voice even. "But I want to see the money first."
"Of course."
He stepped forward and set a briefcase on an old worktable. A cloud of dust burst into the air, making him cough. He waved his hand, trying to clear it, then popped the locks.
Stacks of cash. Looked real enough.
Perfect.
"And your end of the bargain?" he asked, flashing his teeth in a sickening grin. "Should I retrieve it directly from the source, or do you have it with you?"
"I have it."
I pulled the container from my lunchbox. I had packed it with ice packs to keep it from going bad.
"In a Tupperware? Really?"
"Do you want it or not?"
"Of course I want it. This stuff sells like crazy." He smirked, eyeing me. "You must be desperate to let it go for such a low price."
"I don't need more."
I placed the Tupperware on the table, and he flipped it open. He inhaled deeply, his eyelids fluttering.
Ew. Get a room.
While he was distracted, I grabbed the briefcase.
"Wow," he sighed, voice dripping with pleasure. "Smells strong. Is it yours, little one?"
"Why do you care? You got what you wanted."
"Hmm." He closed the lid and set the container aside. His eyes flicked up to me, dark and calculating. "But… if I had the source, I could have all the blood I wanted, whenever I wanted it."
Of course. I knew he couldn't be legit.
He stepped closer, slow and predatory, like a panther closing in on its prey.
"No, thank you," I said.
I turned to run.
The click of a gun stopped me in my tracks.
"Good girl," he purred. "Now, come to me."
I didn't want to. I wouldn't be a slave again.
Cairn hadn't broken me completely, but I couldn't live through that again.
And yet, my feet moved anyway, drawn forward by the force of survival.
He grabbed my wrist and yanked me in, pressing the barrel of the gun against my temple.
With my free hand, I slid my fingers down. Not to fight. Not yet.
Instead, I traced his length through his pants.
He was hard as a rock.
I stepped in closer, making sure he had a good view of my chest.
"So eager when you finally know who's boss," he murmured.
I undid his belt, freeing him. I stroked him, slow and firm, my fingers curling just enough.
"Yes, little one. Go ahead," he sighed, letting his grip on my wrist loosen.
He lowered the gun to my jaw, closing his eyes.
That was his mistake.
I tightened my grip on him, stroking faster.
He groaned, head tilting back—
And I struck.
In one swift move, I wrenched the gun from his grip, twisting his thumb hard as I shot my head back. The motion freed the weapon, and I caught it fast, shoving him away with a hard kick to the groin.
He doubled over, clutching himself.
"Urghh, little bitch. Give me that—"
He lunged. I was faster.
My fist connected with his jaw, snapping his head to the side. I followed with a hook, then an uppercut. He staggered back, gasping.
I kicked his knee. He collapsed onto the dirt.
And then I kicked.
And kicked.
And kicked.
Until he wasn't moving.
His breath was still there—shallow, weak—but he wasn't getting up anytime soon.
I turned and ran.
Once outside, I yanked out my phone and shot a text to the Shady One.
The man you sent tried to rape and kidnap me for my blood. Thanks for that. I have my money. The blood is still with him at the meeting point. I suggest you find him some healthcare.
I didn't wait for a reply.
I went straight to the club. The sooner I handed over the money, the sooner I could guarantee my day off.
I entered through the side door, heading straight for the office, but Andrew was at the bar, alone, going through some paperwork.
"Hey, Alee. You're early," he said, glancing up. "Eager to work?"
"I wanted to give you your money for tomorrow."
His eyebrows lifted, surprised.
"Didn't think you'd pull it off, Alee chérie. Gotta admit, I'm impressed."
"Well, yeah. I'm a woman of my word." I slid the briefcase onto the bar. "There's extra in there. Just to remind you that I'm a good employee and that I'll be seeing you on Sunday."
He popped it open, and a wide grin spread across his face.
If he were a cartoon character, his eyes would be dollar signs.
"Well," he chuckled, "enjoy your day off tomorrow. But for now, you're working tonight." He clinked his glass against the counter. "Drinks are on me."
"Thanks. I'd say it's a pleasure doing business with you, but I'd be lying."
He laughed. "Pete, put this in my office."
I headed for the changing room, smiling to myself.
Because tomorrow, I would be free.