Bitten to Death

“He’s a vampire. Their insides might work like ours, but that doesn’t mean they’re the same.”

Samos looked at me with bleary eyes, blood dripping from his lips. “Make it stop,” he begged.

“I don’t know how,” I told him.

“Please.”

“You just tried to burn me and my guys to death. You’re in no position to beg.”

Jack came trotting up to him, gave him a sniff. He sent the dog a ghastly smile. “That’s my good Ziel.”

“He’s not yours anymore.” Finally I wriggled my hand free. Within seconds we were all loose. As I struggled to my feet, the dog came to stand by me. I patted him on the head. “He’s mine now, Samos. And I’m naming him Jack.”

The look on the vampire’s face might’ve melted a softer heart. But mine had been encased in something harder than diamonds. And I would never forget the people he’d killed. Or the horrors he’d underwritten to advance his own, obscene agenda. So, despite my desperate need to be moving, I watched and waited while the bots ate their way closer and closer to his heart.

At the end he smiled, his teeth a sickening red, and peered up at me.

“Do you have any last words?” I asked.

He pulled up two handfuls of grass and dirt, spit on them, and peered up at me with a ghastly leer. “Are you certain you know my name?” He began to chant, words in the same language he’d used during the fire spell.

“Jaz, don’t let him talk!” yelled Dave.

I threw a kick at his head, but at the moment it should’ve connected—nothing. The bots had done my job for me. The only bits that remained of Edward “the Raptor” Samos lay in a crumpled little pile at my feet.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

To an outsider we must’ve looked like shipwreck survivors, leaning on each other because we couldn’t get our legs to work right and my head kept trying to spin off into the night like some demented fruit bat. Even Jack seemed bummed, as if watching his former master go poof had not figured into his evening’s plans. He’d observed the smoke and steam that had been Edward Samos fade into the darkness, took a second to sniff the bits of ash, cloth, and bone that had remained, and then followed us with his tail drooping as we began the hike back to the villa.

Our first stop had been the pile of weapons and phones the vamps had left at the battle site. Once we were all properly equipped again we stood straighter and stopped looking around like we were surprised to be taking yet another breath in each other’s company.

“Do you usually cut them that close?” asked Dave as he rebuttoned his jacket.

The night had turned cool, but I was still sweating from the close scrape with immolation. So I threw mine over my arm as I said, “Naw, I was just showing off for you.” I bumped him with my hip. “But seriously. That idea of yours? Pulled our asses out of that jam in a truly stellar manner.”

“Good thing I wasn’t drunk, yeah?”

I wrapped my fingers in the leather, because I knew he’d reject the hand I wanted to reach out to him. “Swear to God, Dave. That thought never crossed my mind.”

“It did mine. You know what else I realized?”

I looked at him sideways, afraid if I met his eyes square on he’d clam up and I’d never learn what went on behind that conflict-hardened face. “What’s that?”

“Even though you freed me from the Wizard nearly a month ago, I’ve still been all tied up inside. Lying in that circle, trussed like a turkey, felt familiar in a way that truly honked me off.”

“I can see that.”

“I’m thinking maybe I should make some changes before I feel like I need to invest in a hemp farm. Starting with this.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a silver flask, and handed it to me.

Suddenly I knew how it felt to accept the Pulitzer. All I said as I slid the container into my hip pocket was “Good call.”

“Damn, I feel better,” Dave said. “I’m calling Cassandra.” He dove into another pocket and within a minute he was trying to wake her up enough that she could process his good news.

While they were talking, I shoved my phone into Tarasios’s hands. “Call your Deyrar,” I told him. “Find out where she’s gone.” But his fingers were still shaking so hard he had to give me the number and let me do the work.

After a moment that seemed to stretch for ages, he said, “Disa? Is that you?” I nearly kicked him in the shins. What the hell kind of stupid question—never mind. I rolled my hands at him. Come on, get to the point. He nodded. “Are you still at the wagon house?”

He opened the phone so I could hear her end of the conversation if I didn’t mind getting up close and personal. I moved in. Despite his spectacular good looks, it wasn’t as wowsa as it sounds. We both smelled like ash, and after the way he’d conducted himself recently, I’d have chosen to cuddle up next to a whale carcass before picking him. But with Cirilai sending needles up my arm, I had no choice. I did snatch No Frills out of his free hand first. He’d lost the right to carry it the second he started blubbering.

“No, the wagon house is a total loss,” Disa said, sounding more cheerful than I’d ever heard her. “We couldn’t find any breach, or sign of the werewolves, so it was probably faulty wiring. Niall, Rastus, and the rest are making sure the fire stays out while Vayl and I take a little trip.”

I whispered in Tarasios’s ear, giving him the words to say. “Is this really the time to be traveling? I mean, you’re supposed to be meeting with Samos tonight.”