Oliver's Hunger
Page 91
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Why would Corbin lie about the fact that he’d been a frequent client at the brothel? Why pretend that he’d only been there once and didn’t like the special blood? Was it possible that Ursula confused him with another client? No, he couldn’t allow himself to doubt her words. Whenever he’d done so, it had turned out that he was wrong and she was right.
He had to follow his gut.
Oliver stormed into the situation room just as Eddie entered too.
“Corbin is lying.”
All heads turned to him.
“I just got off the phone with Ursula. She confirmed that Corbin was a regular—”
Zane interrupted him. “You spoke to Ursula? I specifically ordered—”
“That’s not important now!” Oliver cried out. “I found her. What she told me makes me believe that Corbin is lying. He was a regular at the blood brothel while he told me he’d been there only once and didn’t like it. He’s been deceiving us! The warehouse in Oakland has to be a trap.”
“There are many reasons why he wouldn’t want to admit that he was a regular client,” Samson cautioned.
“I agree,” Gabriel said. “That doesn’t mean the blood brothel isn’t where Corbin says it is right now. Besides—” He motioned to the monitor where the live video of the warehouse was still showing. “Our human guards have confirmed that they found evidence of activity there. There must be at least a dozen guys holed up inside.”
“But no evidence of the women,” Oliver noted. “That makes it a trap.”
“We should still go in,” Zane said. “We’ll just take more men with us.”
“No! Corbin first.”
Amaury shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to send a few people to his house and check on him while the rest of us make our way to Oakland. It’ll take us a while to get there anyway.” Then he looked at Eddie. “Anything from that second phone Valentine had?”
“I cracked the password,” Eddie replied. “But he didn’t get any texts or emails about the blood brothel.”
Oliver pointed to Eddie. “See, even more reason not to go to Oakland. Why would one client get an email with the new address, but not the other? And Valentine was definitely a regular, considering how addicted he is.” He stared at his colleagues, whose expressions had darkened.
Samson and Gabriel exchanged a look. Then Samson stood up. “Change of plans.”
35
Paul Corbin put the finishing touches on his impeccable outfit. He loved dressing well, and for tonight’s occasion he’d outdone himself.
As soon as the sun set, he sped away in his black Mercedes. Everything was arranged. It took him less than ten minutes to reach the address on Nob Hill. He parked on the opposite side of the street and killed the engine.
When he got out of his car and shut the door behind him, he smoothed the creases from his black suit, while his legs ate up the distance to the entrance of the large building. Next to the brass sign was an intercom system. He pressed the bell and didn’t have to wait long until a crackling and the voice of a woman came through it.
“Yes?”
He bent toward the speaker. “Paul Corbin. I’m a new client.”
There was a slight hesitation, then the buzzer sounded. He pressed against the door and entered. The foyer was lush. He quickly assessed his surroundings: a lounge to the left, two doors to his right, then a large staircase at the end of the hall. One of the doors to his right opened and an Asian woman dressed in a smart business suit exited and walked toward him.
She stretched her hand out in greeting. “Mr. Corbin?”
Corbin shook her hand, not at all surprised that the woman was a vampire. “Good evening.”
“I’m Vera,” she introduced herself. “May I ask who referred you?”
Prepared for the question, he answered evenly, “Oliver was so kind.”
She smiled instantly and relaxed seemingly. “You know Oliver?”
He nodded politely. “Charming young man.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Then she looked him up and down, sizing him up.
Corbin kept his cool. He knew he would pass muster.
“What may I offer you for your pleasure? We cater to all tastes.”
He smiled nonchalantly. “I’m a man of many tastes. Surprise me.” He tossed a glance to the lounge where several women entertained the men present. “All I require is some privacy, away from all the . . . uh, entertainment, shall we say?”
“A private room, of course. This way,” Vera directed him.
He had to follow his gut.
Oliver stormed into the situation room just as Eddie entered too.
“Corbin is lying.”
All heads turned to him.
“I just got off the phone with Ursula. She confirmed that Corbin was a regular—”
Zane interrupted him. “You spoke to Ursula? I specifically ordered—”
“That’s not important now!” Oliver cried out. “I found her. What she told me makes me believe that Corbin is lying. He was a regular at the blood brothel while he told me he’d been there only once and didn’t like it. He’s been deceiving us! The warehouse in Oakland has to be a trap.”
“There are many reasons why he wouldn’t want to admit that he was a regular client,” Samson cautioned.
“I agree,” Gabriel said. “That doesn’t mean the blood brothel isn’t where Corbin says it is right now. Besides—” He motioned to the monitor where the live video of the warehouse was still showing. “Our human guards have confirmed that they found evidence of activity there. There must be at least a dozen guys holed up inside.”
“But no evidence of the women,” Oliver noted. “That makes it a trap.”
“We should still go in,” Zane said. “We’ll just take more men with us.”
“No! Corbin first.”
Amaury shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to send a few people to his house and check on him while the rest of us make our way to Oakland. It’ll take us a while to get there anyway.” Then he looked at Eddie. “Anything from that second phone Valentine had?”
“I cracked the password,” Eddie replied. “But he didn’t get any texts or emails about the blood brothel.”
Oliver pointed to Eddie. “See, even more reason not to go to Oakland. Why would one client get an email with the new address, but not the other? And Valentine was definitely a regular, considering how addicted he is.” He stared at his colleagues, whose expressions had darkened.
Samson and Gabriel exchanged a look. Then Samson stood up. “Change of plans.”
35
Paul Corbin put the finishing touches on his impeccable outfit. He loved dressing well, and for tonight’s occasion he’d outdone himself.
As soon as the sun set, he sped away in his black Mercedes. Everything was arranged. It took him less than ten minutes to reach the address on Nob Hill. He parked on the opposite side of the street and killed the engine.
When he got out of his car and shut the door behind him, he smoothed the creases from his black suit, while his legs ate up the distance to the entrance of the large building. Next to the brass sign was an intercom system. He pressed the bell and didn’t have to wait long until a crackling and the voice of a woman came through it.
“Yes?”
He bent toward the speaker. “Paul Corbin. I’m a new client.”
There was a slight hesitation, then the buzzer sounded. He pressed against the door and entered. The foyer was lush. He quickly assessed his surroundings: a lounge to the left, two doors to his right, then a large staircase at the end of the hall. One of the doors to his right opened and an Asian woman dressed in a smart business suit exited and walked toward him.
She stretched her hand out in greeting. “Mr. Corbin?”
Corbin shook her hand, not at all surprised that the woman was a vampire. “Good evening.”
“I’m Vera,” she introduced herself. “May I ask who referred you?”
Prepared for the question, he answered evenly, “Oliver was so kind.”
She smiled instantly and relaxed seemingly. “You know Oliver?”
He nodded politely. “Charming young man.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Then she looked him up and down, sizing him up.
Corbin kept his cool. He knew he would pass muster.
“What may I offer you for your pleasure? We cater to all tastes.”
He smiled nonchalantly. “I’m a man of many tastes. Surprise me.” He tossed a glance to the lounge where several women entertained the men present. “All I require is some privacy, away from all the . . . uh, entertainment, shall we say?”
“A private room, of course. This way,” Vera directed him.
