With a deep breath, I pushed out the back door and turned my feet west. The warehouse was only two avenues over, near the piers. My footsteps echoed through the quiet streets, and the closer I grew to the river, the fewer pedestrians I passed.

Az was in the sky, watching me. The rest of the demons were waiting inside the warehouse. They were with me every step of the way, even if I couldn’t see them. As long as I remembered I wasn’t alone, I could do this.

For Serena.

I stopped on the street corner and gazed across the avenue at the nondescript warehouse that squatted on the next block. Banks of windows were blacked out, and rust splashed across the metal rolling doors. Tipping back my head, I took note of the roof, just in case. It was four stories high and flat on the top. A good place for Az to land.

A crack beneath the doors spilled dim light onto the pavement. With a deep breath, I pulled it up, wincing as the metal screeched into the night. I stepped inside just as the door crashed down behind me. Flickering florescent bulbs barely illuminated the expansive space. The entire place was empty, except for a few plastic sheets that hung from the ceiling, blocking my view of the far left corner.

My heartbeat picked up speed. There was nothing in here. No place for the Legion to hide.

Where the hell are they?

Sweat beaded on my brow. If they couldn’t find somewhere to wait for me, they would have come back to the club to warn me, right? They wouldn’t have just let me wander into a killer’s warehouse all alone with no backup.

But what if something had happened? What if they hadn’t been able to get to me in time?

I took a step back toward the door.

“Mia,” a familiar voice drawled from behind the plastic sheets. Frowning, I whipped toward it and narrowed my eyes, trying to make out the vague form through the sheer material. Was that one of the Legion? I recognized his voice, but…no. It definitely wasn’t Caim or Phenex. Maybe Valac? I hadn’t spoken to him much.

The sheet rippled as the man pushed it aside. Noah stepped into the warehouse wearing black sweats and zero glasses. His green eyes gleamed beneath the overhead bulbs. Confusion pounded against my skull as I stared at him. Wait. Why was he here? Had he gotten a note from the killer, too?

Shit. He probably had no idea what he’d just walked into.

“Noah,” I said, rushing across the floor. “You need to get out of here. Now.”