Hunger Untamed H3 Read Online Free PDF Page A

rainbow display they made. Stone pillars jutted from either side of the decorative wall, making it appear as part of a cave.
    On the other side of the room, parallel to the aquarium, three arching windows exposed an awe-inspiring view of the city’s skyline. Lush curtains on all sides guarded the twinkling lights of skyscrapers, while passing cars spotlighted more of the city. Indoors, tasteful art hung between the panels, illuminated by soft spot lighting. At a distance, she thought she recognized the style of a particular contemporary artist whose work sold in the low six digits. Not surprising at all.
    As they moved deeper inside, Lucy’s shoes sunk into plush carpeting, bringing comfort to each step. From the entrance, she spotted stations of canapés and tall flutes of bubbly beverages. The carafes of dark red liquid standing sentry at the snack areas were ominous yet understood.
    Everywhere she could see, people dressed in the affluent world’s finest clothing mingled, chatted and laughed. Her heart thundered as she studied them all. Not the dozen or so she’d expected, but at least fifty partygoers. Most of them vampires.
    It dawned on her that she might not make it out of this place alive tonight. But if she had to go, she would take with her as many vampires as she could.
    It was a vow.

    Victor landed in a soft crouch, his head snapping up to check for charging guard dogs or people running at him, guns drawn. He stayed quiet for a moment, but the grass had muffled his descent and the sounds of city life were the only things that drifted his way.
    He didn’t know who he could trust anymore, so there was no telling who’d come after him. Vampire. Lycan. Human.
    The forty-eight hours he’d requested from the werewolves had come and gone, and he was no closer to knowing who’d ordered the execution of the adolescents. His best tip—hell, his only tip—said to investigate Giancarlo Sage.
    Funny how the Council member’s name had come up more than once in a week. The first time was the night he’d met that blood slave. If he’d known they were after the same guy, he might have considered her offer instead of turning her away. Hindsight being twenty-twenty and all that.
    In fact, he’d felt a slight twinge of guilt for being such a dick to her at all. No doubt she’d been scared shitless about approaching him. A true merc would have taken her up on the offer instead of asking for a fuck instead. Maybe he was getting soft in his old age.
    “Move it, old man,” he muttered. Regrets served him no purpose whatsoever.
    Victor studied the building, noting every place that would serve as a good hand grip or foot rest. Going through the front door would be easier but also require a lot more brute. Scaling the wall would take little to no effort at all.
    He’d heard Sage would be throwing some sort of shindig tonight, and it created the perfect cover. If he’d been out to kill the man, a lot more planning would have gone into his preparation. Since Victor only wanted to talk to him, get a few answers, disguising himself as a guest served as a good enough cover.
    The cool brick scraped his palms, but the rough edge felt good beneath his fingertips. His muscles bulged as he hefted himself up, always on the lookout for the next place to position his hand and foot. The climb wasn’t difficult, but he took his time making it to the third story. People were more likely to notice something moving quickly. Dressed in all black, he should be hard to spot.
    After twenty minutes of crawling, his muscles burning from fatigue, at last he swung his legs over the iron balcony railing. Glad for the cover of sheer curtains, he did his best to peer into the room, but he couldn’t see much beyond movement of several bodies. The more, the better for him.
    He withdrew a small lock pick set from inside his coat, crouched before the simple lock and got to work. Less than ten minutes later, he slipped inside. The moment he stopped long