After slipping out of the apartment the same way he had entered, Marcus wasted no time heading toward the warehouse the mercenaries were supposed to target. He hadn't been given a precise description, but to him, that hardly mattered. Tracking down the place—and more importantly, the owner—was never going to be an issue.
The logic was simple. Those two half-wits had chosen to rent an apartment in the area, and Slimy had confessed the warehouse wasn't far. That meant the building Marcus was looking for had to be within half a mile at most. And even if there were multiple warehouses crammed into that distance, the mercenaries' target would always stand out. It would either be the cleanest, most pristine operation around, or—if the Pureblood's tastes were involved—it would belong to a woman beautiful enough to catch their eyes. Purebloods, after all, loved to feast on beauty as much as blood.
