If she was anything but what she was, she would be exhausted. Waiting outside the club, hidden in a cloak created from shadows, she watched. The vision had taken her from Austria through Czechia and Poland to Lithuania.
The dull thud of music vibrated from the old, industrial-looking building. A ton of people had gone in; some loitered outside.
This area of Vilnius was strictly urban. She’d left behind the beauty of Old Town with its narrow streets, tourist shops, and amazing architecture. The club and the surrounding buildings were ugly and severe, architectural reminders of the Soviet era.
She blew out a breath between her lips, her patience waning.
The vampire couple were here. She knew it.
Nerves made her teeth chatter. It couldn’t be the freezing-cold temperature because she barely felt it. Apparently, neither did some of the human clubbers who spilled out of the nightclub doors, no longer wearing the coats they had upon entry. Alcohol did that. It made you oblivious to things like 32°F temperatures. Or so he’d told her.
She threw him from her thoughts.
It would seem the only way she was going to find the vampire couple from her vision was to do what she’d hoped she wouldn’t have to.
She had the same coloring as the human girl from the vision.
That, plus the smell of her unusual blood, would probably draw the vamp couple’s attention away from the girl to her instead.
Butterflies fluttered in her belly and she smirked wryly to herself. One would think, being what she was, that she wouldn’t be nervous to take on a couple of vampires. But these two weren’t typical vampires. What they’d done to humans was … well, the things she’d seen them do haunted her.
They needed to be stopped. Since she was currently without a purpose in life, it seemed only right she should be the one to end them. After all, the visions didn’t just come to her willy-nilly. They meant something. Even if dealing with law-breaking supernaturals was the purview of the Consortium, and she’d likely piss them off with her interference.
Shrugging her shoulders back, she released the shadows covering her from head to foot; they slithered from her body with a shiver before crawling back into the dark corners of the alleyway.
Ignoring the increase in her heart rate, she strode toward the club entrance. The large bouncers at the door dragged their gaze down her body and back up again. They probably thought she was nuts, wearing only jeans and a cropped T-shirt in this weather. Smirking, they stood aside to let her pass.
She felt their eyes on her as she stepped inside the low-lit entrance. She was used to it.
Humans and supernaturals alike were drawn to her.
It never used to irritate her. Nothing really did.
Not so much now. A burn flared to life in her chest sometimes. It had taken her awhile to realize it was anger. Aggravation.
Not for the better.
With a sigh, she threw off her maudlin thoughts and paid for entrance into the club. The bored-looking woman behind the desk gestured to her hand, and she held it out. The woman proceeded to press a wet stamp to the back of it.
The club name glared at her in bold, blue ink.
Drifting off toward the double doors manned by two more bouncers, she held up the hand with the ink and they allowed her entrance. One of the men winked at her. She gave him a coy smile and sauntered through the opening.
Although she didn’t feel it the way a human would, the thick change in the air informed her that the deafening club was roasting hot.
And no wonder.
It was packed with bodies all jumping to the pounding bass of electronic music. As tall as she was, she still had to stretch onto tiptoes to see above the crowd. At the end of the colossal space was a stage and on it, a deejay.
With her heightened senses, for a moment all she could hear was a thunderous din. All she could smell was fresh sweat and the choking, mingling scents of beer, cologne, and perfume.
She stopped and took a deep breath. After a moment or two, the noise was manageable.
But her heart still thudded out of time with the drumming bass.
It must have been hella hot in the space because her hair was starting to stick to the back of her neck. All she wanted to do was take the hair tie that circled her wrist and capture the pale-blond locks up into a messy bun. But over the years, she’d found that her hair was a feminine weapon. And the vamps would like it.
Leaving it to sway against her bare back, almost touching her arse, she pushed with determination into the clogged club. Eventually she would sense them.
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