general scent of the contents had been obscured, possibly by natural substances or chemicals. But Lydia’s skill went beyond her sense of smell. She’d been born with an inherent vampire antenna. She didn’t know why she’d been given this gift, a gift that had taken years for her to accept. She’d wanted nothing to do with the blood-sucking race. Then three years ago, her best friend went missing. Her body was found by a riverbank, her throat punctured by vampire fangs.
Something inside Lydia had snapped. She could no longer sit idly while the rogue monsters continued to take human lives. With vengeance, she’d joined the hunter program, but her private rage turned to pride and her natural skill was honed to professional control under Daniel’s tutelage. As far as vampires went, she simply felt their energy.
She moved past a few bowls and stopped in front of one. Cupping it with her hands, her pulse instantly jolted, anxious blood surging through her veins. With confidence, she identified one more bowl.
She continued and turned down a corridor lined by shelves laden with diverse objects. Cardboard and wooden boxes, books, ceramic pots, containers filled with debris, a box of condoms. This last one incited a chuckle. But no presence of vampire. She was positive. Lydia walked down a side corridor near the wall, hoping to locate any remaining spots and get this over with. Adrian’s presence drummed through her veins like an alluring potion.
She absorbed the different smells in the air as she quickened her pace. Nothing around here. Except Adrian’s seductive scent, which reached her from a distance. Her mouth turned downward with displeasure. Lydia was about to turn into another corridor when she halted mid-stride and took a few steps back. Shit, she’d nearly missed it. She tilted her face upward and her nose flared as it caught the scent. To her right was a solid wall. Where the heck was it coming from?
She stepped further away from the wall as her gaze swung up. Then she saw the second level about fifteen feet above. In the dim light, it wasn’t apparent. There had to be a way up there. Her gaze assessed the woven rope that she’d noticed earlier. It hung from a solid beam not far from the level above. She hadn’t paid it much attention. Advancing, she gave it an experimental tug and heard the clank of metal. It was attached to something. Another firm tug and the twin feet of a ladder appeared at the edge of the second level.
“A-ha.” The rope functioned as a pulley.
Lydia slipped the sticks into the back pocket of her jeans and brought the ladder down. Swiftly, she climbed until she reached the hollow space. Her gaze fell on the three, stuffed linen bags on the floor. They were the only objects up here. The vampire smell was stronger now. It fired her senses with a distasteful sharpness. In little time, she located the source of the stench and jabbed the bag with the pointy end of the third stick, freeing several grains. Stinky bastard.
On her way down the ladder, Adrian’s voice froze her movement.
“Many hunters don’t get that one,” he drawled. “Good work.”
She turned her head to look down at him. His eyes lifted from her buttocks to meet hers. Blatant male interest flared in the charcoal depths. Heat rushed to her face as she became uncomfortably aware of her derriere in the tight jeans. Grinding her teeth together, she hurried down the rest of the ladder.
“Are we done here?” she quipped.
Amusement danced about his mouth. “The last two are out there.” He tilted his head toward a back door.
Lydia followed him outside, forcing her gaze past the solid expanse of his shoulders. The late afternoon sun was bright, its glow illuminating a canopy of healthy spring pitch pine and berry bushes just beyond a short clearing. Only vampires that were at least two hundred years old could withstand the sun. She filled her lungs with air, however there was no trace of vampire other than
Marguerite Henry, Bonnie Shields