We stopped for a second time. Jackson peered around the corner. Two entrances, ground level and first floor, just as Google Street View promised. No cars in the parking space and bars on all the windows. He glanced at his watch. Better tell Sam we’re ready.

I pressed the com earpiece Sam had given me and softly said, “In position.”

“Right,” came his reply. “Everyone head in. And be careful.”

I didn’t reply; I just followed Jackson around the corner, then took the metal steps up to the first floor, keeping as close to the wall of the next building as practical. I paused on one side of the first barred window and carefully peered inside. The room beyond was pitch-black. If Rinaldo was in there, he was one with the darkness.

And if he was there, then he was more than likely aware of my presence. He was, after all, a vampire, and my racing heart probably sounded like a damn alarm to him.

I took a deep breath, then ducked past the window and paused again beside the door. Why anyone would bar the windows and then put an unprotected, double-glass door between them was anyone’s guess, but at least it gave me a somewhat easier way in.

Ready when you are, Jackson said.

I flexed my fingers. Sparks flew, tiny fireflies that spoke of tiredness more than tension. Go.

Even as I said that, there was a crash from the front of the building—Sam and Adam were heading in.

I called fire to my fingertips, then pressed them against the lock. It instantly began to glow and, in very little time, was little more than liquid. I pushed the door open but didn’t immediately step inside. Instead, I threw a ball of fire into the darkness and flared it out.

What my flames revealed was a bedroom, and it was a goddamn mess. There were clothes everywhere—both over the floor and on the bed. Either Rinaldo was extremely messy, or someone had gotten here before us.

There was an en suite to my right, but it, too, was in shambles, with drawers pulled out of the cabinet and razors, soaps, and aftershave bottles strewn all over the crisp white floor tiles; some of the bottles were broken, perfuming the air with their pungent scents.

I sent my sphere of light into the hallway and carefully followed. The one additional room on the floor was another bedroom and en suite. It, too, looked as if it had been hit by a cyclone. I headed back to the door, then stopped and swung around, my gaze scanning the clothes again. Was it my imagination, or were those clothes identical to the ones scattered all over the other bedroom?

I went back in to check. It wasn’t my imagination.

“Anything?” Sam said.

“Negative,” Jackson said.

“Also negative,” came Adam’s comment.

“Emberly?” Sam said, his voice a little sharper.