Succubus Lost (Files from the Otherworlder Enforcement Agency, #2) by Tiffany Allee Page B

damaged after her attack, from my mind. “Anyway, it’s just been us ever since. I mean, we have some extended family, a couple of aunts. But they don’t live around here, so we don’t see them that often.” My voice broke, and I blinked back tears. “Elaine is all I have.”
    “Like I said, I read her file. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
    But suddenly I did want to talk about it, and the words felt as if they would burst from my chest if I didn’t get them out. “She was so damaged after the attack, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get her back.”
    “Her date tried to rape her,” he said, voice low.
    “Yes, and she sucked the life out of him for it.” I took a ragged breath. “And he deserved it. He would have killed her.”
    Costa was silent for a few moments, as if considering the right thing to say. “You know that for sure?”
    “Yes. The sharing that happens when a succubus drinks from her…well, normally her lover, it allows the couple to share emotions, thoughts, even memories.” Costa turned and I gripped the door, though he took the turn slowly. “Later, when she was able to talk about it, she told me that she could see his plans for her body after he was done with her. Broken and ragged and dead at the bottom of a hole somewhere.”
    Costa was silent, and I wondered if I was only adding to his view that succubi were dangerous. “She doesn’t deserve this,” I whispered. “She’d only just gotten herself back.”
    Costa touched my shoulder, his hand cool against my suddenly too hot skin. “We’re going to find her, I promise.” The first warehouse on our list looked promising.
    It was in an industrial area on the south side of the city, and the exterior looked terrifying enough for a person to imagine a kidnapped girl being held there. Rust stains covered the old metal siding, and the neighborhood was quiet and dirty. Potholes pitted the asphalt that surrounded the building and the road leading to it. Bits of paper and cans traced the edges of the road.
    I walked around the perimeter while we waited for the man with the key, conscious of Costa following in my wake. He moved quietly, which made me all the more aware of my heels knocking against the pavement.
    “I’m going to look into that connection, you know,” I told him after we’d circled the building. None of the windows was low enough to peer into, and both doors had been disappointingly sturdy. “Between Astrid’s murder and our kidnappings.”
    He was silent and still, like a snake about to strike. His dark eyes never strayed from mine.
    “So if you have something you want to tell me, you should tell me now.”

Chapter Eight
    Darkness crept from every corner of the warehouse, and the air hung heavily, filling my throat and lungs with moldy dampness. I coughed to clear my throat and stepped into the room, clicking on my flashlight. No power ran to the structure. It wasn’t necessary since, according to Luc Chevalier, the building hadn’t been used in nearly five years. And the warehouse was not available for rent because it needed to be cleaned and renovated—
    one among many properties on their list with that issue, apparently.
    Costa’s flashlight beamed from behind me, and I felt him move close—too close. I almost wished that Chevalier’s man had stayed with us instead of moving on to unlock the next warehouse. I took a step, then another, walking carefully to avoid the debris on the floor.
    Bits and pieces of metal were interspersed on the ground in small, cobwebbed piles. They looked like brackets of some sort—probably the last thing that was produced in this building. I moved my flashlight across the ground, revealing the large room foot by foot. The concrete floor was free of any equipment, and the warehouse looked like it was simply a big room devoid of anything to really hide behind, save some empty pallets stacked one to two feet high along the edges of the room.
    “I don’t see