Talia forced herself to look him in the face. It had been well over a year since she’d seen him, and time had smoothed over some of his injuries. His fox-red hair had grown back to shoulder length, hiding the places where his scalp had been torn away. His face was still scarred, but the lumpy flesh had paled from red to pink. He was healing, but slowly. Whatever Omara had done to him had been from the extra-special column of the torture menu. Too bad she didn’t finish the job.
“I spent your money,” she said without expression. “All of it. On pretty clothes.”
He looked her up and down with an angry sneer. “You would.”
She swallowed hard, both angry and relieved that he believed such a stupid answer. She wanted to keep that money out of pure spite. He owed it to her.
“Where’s the police detective?” she repeated.
“What do you care about a human?”
“He’s just doing his job.” She gripped the back of Perry’s chair, holding herself steady. Part of her was waiting for him to zap her to smithereens, or whip out a sword and take her head. This civilized conversation was just painful anticipation.
Belenos looked heavenward, as if bored. “For now, your detective is in the hallway. He made a nice little snack. Oh, don’t make that face. He’ll be up and around in a few hours, but he won’t remember a thing.” Her sire narrowed his one topaz eye. “Here you are defending him. He’ll blame you for sure. You’re the only vampire he’ll recall.”
“Whatever.” As long as Baines hadn’t died because of her. “Why are you here?”
“A little bird told me that you were visiting to look at the poor professor’s things. Such a shame, what happened to him. But then, he shouldn’t have gone snooping in things that aren’t his business.”
Talia gulped. How had Belenos known any of that? Who was betraying them?
“Yes, little duck. It’s been like watching you step off a cliff. Part of me wants to cry out a warning, and the rest wants to see blood and bones strewn all over the rocks below. Guess which part of me won.”
He made a gesture, as if grabbing something from the air. A crushing force slammed into her rib cage and squeezed her skull in an invisible vise. Talia dropped to her knees, suddenly too weak to hold herself up. Help! she cried out in her mind, but the impulse never made it to her lips.
“You forget that I made you.” Belenos closed his fist, bringing the pain to an exquisite pitch. “I can take back that life just as easily. Good. You’re finally looking at me with the proper respect.”
She wasn’t looking at anything. Colors floated toward Talia like the bad special effects from a 3-D film. Black spots exploded before her eyes. A human would be dead.
Just as suddenly, the pressure released. Talia collapsed in a heap. She drew in a small breath, testing her lungs. Everything still worked. I’m going to kill him. I don’t care how ridiculous that sounds, or how afraid I am right now.
Belenos hauled her up with his good hand.
When she could pull it into focus, the hallway beckoned like the stairway to heaven. Surely that security guard would be back soon. He’d see Baines, call more cops, who would shoot her sire. Maybe there was a way out of this yet.
She took a shaky step forward, as if she were going to bolt for the door.
“Talia,” he said, his tongue relishing her name. “I wouldn’t try anything, if I were you.”
She froze, her arms held out to her sides a little, letting him think he’d stopped her.
Now!
Talia wheeled and lunged for the door, her wordless cry echoing in the hallway. Belenos grabbed her hood, hauling her back. The force of it popped a button. She heard cloth tear, the sound nearly as sharp as a whimper of pain. She fell against him, the weight and smell of him bringing back waves of terror. He kicked the door shut.
“Let me go!” she shrieked, landing an elbow in his ribs.
He flinched, then chuckled, long and low. “Sh. I’m going to help you.”
“Help me what?” she asked in a low, hoarse voice. She knew him all too well.
“I’m going to help you remember what it is to be the servant of a master and not a rebellious whore. Oh, yes, I know what you’ve been up to with your dog. That little bird simply talks too much.”
Oh, God, no, she didn’t want Lore mixed up with this lunatic!
“Such long, delicious shudders. One would think I was going to punish you as Omara punished me.”
He crushed her against him in a nauseating embrace. He brought his lips close to her ear, his breath tickling her nose and cheek. “We can’t have that, now, can we? Why copy a job when one can improve upon it?”
Chapter 27
Friday, December 31, 9:00 p.m.
Empire Hotel
“All I want is a quiet beer,” Darak said to Nia, raising his voice over the din. “Where’s the mystery?”
The New Year’s crowd at the Empire was rocking, the bar three and four people deep. Darak had both elbows out, guarding his territory. Daisy was asleep at his feet.
Nia seemed to hold her spot by being female, exotic, and wearing nothing to speak of. There was more of that cosmetic glittery powder against her ebony skin than actual clothing. The werebear beside her looked ready to offer marriage.
“The mystery, my friend, is in how you think you can prevent me from helping you to pluck the guts from this King of the East.” Nia gave him her squinty-eyed look, which said he was likely to end up with an arrow in his ass if he tried to sneak away. “I am the perfect choice for your hostage. I am beautiful. Men never expect a beautiful woman to cut their throats.”
“No.”
“Who else would you choose?”
“No one. No hostages.”
“You think you can get close to him without playing his game?”
“How close do I need to be? I’m just stepping on a bug.”
“Bugs bite.”
Darak sighed. There were only a handful of people he let backtalk him, and they’d all known him since before the Dark Ages. It was hard to fool someone who’d been at your side since togas went out of fashion.
There was the whole problem: You couldn’t replace people like that. They were his chosen kin. “I want to go after this fool alone because he’s a crazy sorcerer. They’re always bad news. How can I hand you over to him?”
“Bad news is my meat and drink.” Nia took a sip of her cocktail. It was mauve with a flower floating in it. “And I’m bored. Stop trying to keep me—all of us—safe. After this long, it’s getting very old. You should have told us what the ghost girl said right away. You should have let us help you look for the necromancer. Enough of that. In three hours you will take me to the pier, and I will play my role as a poor, helpless slave girl. You’re not doing this alone.”
Darak grunted something that was neither a yes or no. He was watching the bartender, Joe, who was holding a cell phone to one ear and his finger in the other. By his face, he was getting bad news. It seemed to be going around.
Joe’s gaze flicked up, meeting Darak’s face. He began walking toward him, closing the phone. He leaned on the bar, bringing his face close to Darak’s so that he could be heard. “You met Lore, the Alpha hellhound, a few nights ago?”
“Yeah.”
“He has a message for you.”
“What?”
