Paragon

⊰❉⊱ 13 ⊰❉⊱

The receptionist quickly found my eyes as I crossed the marble lobby. I plastered a false smile on my face and she returned it. I slipped into an American accent instantly and leaned against the desk.

"Hey there, I'm looking for 502?" I said picking a number out of thin air with confidence.

The secretary smiled again before glancing at her screen. "Of course. Can I get the name you're looking for so I can let them know you're here?"

"Matthew Jenks."

She looked fully at the screen now giving me the time to reach over and grab her hand. Her eyes glazed instantly and her mind became compliant.

"A man. Bald. Expensive suit. Walked in with a woman, tall, brunette. What door number are they in?" I commanded, with more ice in my veins than I'd felt in a long time.

"Penthouse. He owns the top floor." She murmured. "Lift number 45. He has the only key card–"

"I won't need one." I growled. "You never saw me tonight."

I released her rapidly and strode for the lift. It opened to me and I pressed the floor number. It rose rapidly but it couldn't have been fast enough for my taste... When the lift stopped at the monster's floor the key pad flashed red and required a card to open.

I sunk my hands into the doors with a groan and ripped them open. The metal made a vicious screech but I didn't care. A thick wooden door began to open ahead of the lift so I raced out faster than any mammal could and ripped the mortal through the doorway before it had opened.

A suited man hit the ground heavily in shock before I knocked him out with a kick to the head.

"What was it?" Another voice called down the hall. I left the door open and waited for the footsteps. Waited as I heard a gun drawn.

"Henson?" He called again with more caution.

I let the footsteps take a few more feet closer before kicking the door off its hinges entirely and hitting the guard on the other side. He should have brought more with him... I thought darkly as I watched the mortal struggle under the door. He stared at me in utter confusion before raising his gun. He shot me in the neck.

I glanced as the bullet casing bounced off my skin and fell to the floor. He lowered his gun staring with more fear than ever before.

"I wasn't here for you." I sighed, before moving faster than he could blink and breaking his neck through the door.

There was no getting around a witness like that. If he worked for this creature I didn't have too much sympathy but it was still needless.

I crossed the rest of the hall and noticed loud music beyond the door. A strange opera that struck me as Italian. I front kicked his last door off its hinges too not giving the slightest care about his fear or home.

A large living room opened to me with stone pillars and glass beyond. I heard a male shout muffled beyond another wall and movement. But what really caught my attention now was that frantic heartbeat. The pure and whole scent of Quinn Adams. I didn't smell blood so I knew I wasn't walking in on murder or injury for a start.

The door ripped open to the far side and I smiled so darkly at the fat mortal leering at me in rage.

"You!" He spat, stumbling towards a side table and fumbling with the draw. His white shirt was open and so was his zip. I walked calmly towards him. Quinn was out of sight. 

Good.

He grabbed a gun from the draw and shot three times only landing one shot directly into my chest. He started laughing in a slight drunken mess. Waiting for me to drop to the floor. I didn't. I continued to approach him with a lethal calm. An endless death.