A blur snatched me in midair before I hit the ground. My stupefied gaze took in the sight of bodies ejecting from the car as Bones flung it at the small plane. There was an explosion, its bright flash interrupted by the vampire setting me safely on the ground.
“Stay here,” Ian muttered even as he darted away toward the wreckage. I ignored him, lurching in the same direction, but oddly shivering. Why did I feel this cold when the fire was so close?
Flaming forms crawled out of the remains of the plane and were promptly tackled. Through the wavering fire, people who were familiar to me almost appeared demonic as they hacked their way through the scrambling vampires. In minutes it was over, and somehow I was on the grass without noticing I’d fallen. That gunshot must have been more serious than I realized.
Bones came out of the orange haze. He had blood and soot on him, and his shirt was patchy in places. He knelt by me.
“This will hurt, Kitten, but it’s quicker.”
The warning made my eyes widen as he held me down. He took out a knife and gouged it into my side. I couldn’t help but scream as his fingers followed, feeling around for the bullet. After a moment that seemed to last infinitely longer, Bones drew it out, then cut his palm and placed it over the site, healing the larger wound he’d just made. Then Bones sliced his wrist and pressed it to my mouth. I took a deep swallow of his blood, closing my eyes as the pain lost its grip.
My side tingled as it knit back together. It occurred to me that I must have been unconscious when Bones did this after Max shot me. Getting my throat torn open really had numbed me to everything else that day.
Bones drew his shirt over his head. “Bit torn in places, but it’ll cover your arse,” he said, handing it to me. “’Fraid your trousers are incinerated back in the car.”
There were many things in his gaze, and reproach was one of them. Fumbling, I pulled his shirt on like it was a skirt. “Bones, I-”
“Later,” he cut me off. “Got a few matters to settle first.”
“Crispin.”
Ian strode forward, dragging someone by the back of his neck. He shook the person like a rag doll and flung him near our feet.
“Here, reckoned you’d want this one alive. Charles and Tick Tock are holding Hykso, but we shouldn’t linger here. Bloody coppers are on their way, I suspect.”
“We don’t have to worry about them. Perks of her sodding job. She flashes her badge and makes a call, and they curse and kick the stones for not being allowed to venture nearer. Almost funny, really.”
Bones’s tone changed to cruel in the next heartbeat. “Ah, hallo there, mate. You’ll remember my wife. She’s the one you shot.”
Kratas wore an expression of grim resignation. “I had a feeling about you,” he said to me. “Should have listened to my instinct.”
“Know what I’m going to do with this bullet?”
Bones’s casual tone didn’t lull Kratas. His face showed he had no illusions.
“I’m going to melt it down and have a blade crafted with part of the silver. Then I’m going to run it through every part of your body except your heart.”
God, sometimes Bones did scare me.
“Are you going to store him with Max?” Ian asked, not looking upset by the prospect of Kratas’s pain.
“Elsewhere. We’ll sort it out later. Get them set up in the truck so we can get out of here.”
The two eighteen-wheelers that pulled up looked like any you’d see on the highway. Dirty on the outside, dents on the fenders, even the drivers were the quintessential trucker type. Furthermore, when the trailer back of one of them slid open, a line of crates met your eyes. Of course, those crates were a false wall that led to an interior the average shipping company had never conceived of.
“Charles, you’re in this one with Hykso. Perhaps we’ll get lucky and the bloke will know where Patra is. Kitten, we’re in the other until we get to the airport. Ian, traveling with us or on your own?”
Ian cast a snooty glance at the trucks and shook his head. “I’ll arrange for my own transportation.”
“Take Tate with you.”
Bones didn’t make it a request. Ian shrugged.
“As you wish.”
Spade led forward a heavily chained vampire. No introduction was necessary, it had to be Hykso. He certainly had an Egyptian flair to him, with straight black hair, dusky skin, and a distinctive nose. His eyes were trained on me as he approached. Then he smiled.
“Reaper. I look forward to you meeting my mistress.”
I smiled back, just as coldly. “So do I, Hykso.”
EIGHTEEN
SPADE LEDHYKSO ANDKRATAS INTO THE trailer, where there were clamps and other such restraints attached to a reinforced wall.
Bones took my arm. “Let’s go.”
Bones jumped into the back of the second truck and lifted me up. As soon as I passed through the mock crate, I gaped. This interior was so vastly different from the other rig that I just stared.
Two couches were clamped in place to the floor, as were two chairs and a refrigerator. There was even a rug tacked down.
“My God,” I breathed. “It’s a frigging RV!”
“This is what my men will be staying in, when they’re not with Hykso and Kratas,” Bones replied briskly. “No need for them all to be cramped inside the one truck. We’re just borrowing it to get back to the airport.”
The axles made a wheeze underneath us as the truck was put into gear. There was a lurch and then intermittent jerking as we drove away.
Bones folded his arms and stared at me. I fidgeted, hating how loaded the silence was.
“You know I had no intention for things to go that far with Tate,” I began. “I just wanted to get us closer to Hykso, and get them distracted before I chucked those knives…”
“And a brilliant toss it was, pet. Blades landed right in Kratas’s eyes. He fired at you blind.”
I winced at his tone. “I’m sorry,” I said, and he knew I wasn’t talking about blinding the other vampire.
Bones stalked around the small room. I didn’t need vampire senses to feel the anger pouring off him, but I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me, at Tate, or at the war that had put us in the limo in the first place.
“We should talk about this,” I said, steeling myself for whatever incriminations he heaped on me. After all, I was only supposed to have kissed Tate during this charade. Not made out with him for over ten minutes while clad in only a sweater and my underwear. Yeah, if the situation were reversed, I’d be pissed, too.
Bones spun around. “I rather doubt talking will help. You did what you felt was necessary. I’m very brassed off by your methods, though I can’t argue with your results.”
He walked over in a measured, deliberate way that was no less predatory for its slowness. When he was only a few inches away, his hand traced down the sleeve of my shirt, and I couldn’t help but flinch. There was something almost menacing in the way he touched me.
“Where did he kiss you? Touch you?”
I looked him in the eye.
“It didn’t mean anything, Bones. It was nothing like how I feel with you.”
“Ah.” Bones’s reply was soft, but his eyes went green. Whether that was anger or something else, I had no idea.
He leaned closer, his mouth almost brushing my neck. I couldn’t help but shiver, wondering what he was about to do.
“He kissed you here.” Bones’s voice was a low growl. “I suspect he touched you here”-he touched my breasts through my shirt-“and I can smell his hands here”-while kneeling and running a hand along the outside of my thigh.
