Archangel's Blade

“I did warn you.” With that, Dmitri was gone, a shadow in the dark.

As she covered him, he smashed the nearest car window to reach in and pull out the vampiric driver, throwing him to the ground with such force that his skull cracked. The man’s partner began shooting. Unfortunately, he was aiming where Dmitri no longer was. It was as she was kicking away the weapon of the unconscious driver that she heard the distinct snap of a neck being broken.

It had all happened so fast that the second car only started reversing in screeching panic after both the front vampires had been disabled. Picking up the machine gun she’d kicked aside, she aimed at the gleaming Town Car, blowing out the tires, then the windshield.

Glass shattered, smoke rose, and the vehicle slammed backward into trees that shook from the force of the impact but didn’t give ground.

Dmitri was already on top of the vehicle, ripping away the roof in a feat of strength that made it patent he wasn’t human. The guards inside, their bodies peppered with bullet wounds, made no attempt to defend their cargo. Dragging a screaming Jewel Wan out of the backseat by her hair, Dmitri dumped her in the patch of road spotlighted by the damaged Town Car’s headlights.





21


“Anyone,” he said in a quiet voice after ordering Jewel to shut up, “who wants to come out of this alive, get out and wait at the estate. If you’d like to make me very happy, try to run.”

The guards staggered out and—to their credit—went to check on the other two. They left the one whose neck Dmitri had broken, which meant he was too young to have survived that, but pulled up the driver to drag him away. All of it in absolute silence. Jewel Wan, meanwhile, shoved back her hair and got unsteadily to her feet, her knees bleeding below the hemline of a tight black silk dress, her palms scratched from where she’d broken her fall.

None of it did anything to diminish her haughty elegance. “There you are,” she murmured to Honor. “Such a pretty morsel.”

Honor wanted to shoot her so badly that her entire body trembled, but she didn’t. “I won’t kill you and make this easy,” she said, forcing herself to walk up and take a seat on the hood of the Town Car that no longer had a roof, the headlights blazing below her. “Dmitri?” When he moved to brace his hand against the hood, his body angled toward her, she said, “Not a single piece of your soul.”

Close as she was to him, her cheek brushing the slight roughness of his own, she saw him smile . . . saw, too, the terror that erased Jewel Wan’s tattered elegance. But the vampire was a businesswoman. “I can give you information.”

“You say that as if it’s a bargain worth making.” Dmitri leaned up against the Town Car, his shoulders fluid with muscle, the wicked sin of his scent in her every breath. “We both know you’ll tell me anything I want to know before this is over.”

Jewel flashed her fangs. “I’m a vampire of four hundred and fifty. You intend to sacrifice so much experience for, what, a little mortal amusement? I’ve had her, and she’s not that—”

Dmitri moved to backhand the vampire so fast and hard, she slammed up against a tree, crumpling to the ground with blood pouring out of her nose, a deep cut on her lip. “Now,” Dmitri said in a voice so rational, it raised the hairs on Honor’s nape, “tell me everything. And maybe I won’t order Andreas to give you some extra-special attention.”

A pained plea from the woman who looked unthreatening, fragile. Except Honor knew that was a lie. Jewel would always be a monster. Simply one in a package that had the ability to appear harmless. To offer her any mercy would be to sentence another victim to the horror Honor had barely survived. “Dmitri,” she said, because lethal, dangerous creature that he was, he was still hers and she would fight for him, “what did I tell you?”

“Sorry.” He grinned and it was shocking how very beautiful he looked even surrounded by the acrid scent of fear and blood. “Got caught up in the moment.” Returning his attention to Jewel, he said, “Why aren’t you talking?” in a voice that was only mildly interested—the same way a lion was only mildly interested in the prey it planned to rend when it got hungry.

“I got an invitation,” the vampire said at once, dribbling blood. “It’s in my study at home. On the desk.” She reached up to wipe away the blood trickling from her nose, smearing dark red across the porcelain of her skin. “Tommy was one of them. He insinuated something at a party and I had him followed. Stupid man never took precautions.”

Which was why, Honor thought, Tommy’s invitation had been permanently retracted. “You aren’t giving us anything we don’t already have.”

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