Page 20 of Cold Sacrifice

And if I could help stop another Voss from being created, I would gladly do so.

Suddenly remembering Vanessa’s painting, I went to fetch it from the car. I burned it in the backyard fire pit, watching until nothing remained but ash, and then went to spend some time with Zach, Sam, and Lucy before Aaron came to whisk me away to the council.

Chapter Six

It took nearly two hours to get to the council’s new location, and I wasn’t happy with that. By the time I got there, had the session—and who knew how long that would take—and then arrived back home for my car, I’d be late getting to the office, and worse, I might miss the vampires waking up.

If Bastien didn’t text me to let me know he was okay, I’d need to get to Alexandria quickly.

When I informed Aaron of the issue, he was quick to reassure me. “I can get you to the city from the council meeting in less than thirty minutes,” he told me. “If you have someone drive your car to the city, you’ll have no need to go back to Huntersburg to retrieve it.”

The windows and the divider between me and Aaron were magically tinted the entire drive to the council. I couldn’t see out, and I had no idea where we were going. I couldn’t guess why the council wanted this new location to be secret and was sure no one would tell me if I asked.

When Aaron opened the door and I climbed out, I stood looking around for a few seconds, disoriented. “Where the hell are we, Aaron? And why did they bring me here instead of the usual place?”

“They don’t want to be predictable right now,” he said. He gestured at the very empty, obviously secluded beach, backed by the woods we were standing in front of. “And I believe we are in the middle of nowhere.”

“Don’t want to be predictable right now because…?” I asked. Then the reason dawned on me, and I stared at him. “They’re actually freaking out over the unknown supe killing Bastien’s vampires.”

“I wouldn’t say they’re freaking out, exactly,” he said dryly. “But they are being cautious until they know more.”

“How do you know this?” I asked him, genuinely curious.

“I have worked for the council for many years,” he told me. “I hear things. I am told things.”

“Not just a driver,” I murmured, then turned in a circle. “Where are they?”

“It isn’t far,” he told me. “This way.”

There was a path through the woods, and Aaron was right. It wasn’t far. We hadn’t been walking for more than two minutes before we came abruptly upon a building. It was small, squat, and unremarkable, with brown wood siding and a weathered dark green door.

I knew without being told that the interior would not match the exterior.

Aaron left me at the door. “I’ll be waiting,” he told me, then turned and walked back the way we’d come.

The door was opened by a tall human, surprising me. Usually, those who worked for the council were supernaturals. He didn’t speak, just held the door and looked over my head, his stare blank, until I stepped inside.

Then he shut the door, his movements slow and deliberate, and walked out of the small foyer. He didn’t look around to see if I followed.

Once we left the tiny foyer, the space opened up into a hall with gleaming dark wood floors and walls, windowless and dimly lit. There was no furniture. The human didn’t pause but walked through the room, his steps soundless while mine seemed to be extra clicky and loud. He led me through another doorway into a small kitchen, which was apparently never used.

There was not even a hint of any lingering food scents in the air. I was tempted to open the refrigerator door just to see if it was empty, but then my escort slipped through a small doorway at the back of the kitchen, and I hurried to follow him. The place was starting to make me nervous.

I walked through the kitchen doorway and found myself not in another room, but outside. “This is weird,” I said, mainly to hear a voice. The quiet wasn’t peaceful. It was oppressive.

My guide went back inside and shut the door behind him. I had a feeling I wasn’t really outdoors at all. The council was simply using magic to do whatever the hell it was they were doing. I couldn’t pretend to understand them.

The yard wasn’t huge, but as I walked toward the back, it seemed to expand. There was a patio area created from a square grouping of red pavers. On the pavers sat a tall table with three chairs, and across from it was a sofa with thick, green cushions. A glass and metal coffee table had been placed in front of it.

“Hello?” I called. “I don’t have all day. I’m going to give you two minutes before I walk out of here.”

“I’m here.”

I barely restrained myself from screaming at the abruptness—and closeness—of the voice. I spun around, and not six feet behind me was a man wearing a dark blue suit and sunglasses. He had short, neat dark hair and carried a white cane.

“Weston Korda?” I asked.

He was silent for a moment, tilting his head in a peculiar way, as though he needed to think about the sound of my voice.