On Midnight Wings

Silver saw honest concern in Giovanni’s hazel eyes, heard it in his voice. Time to roll the dice. Trust him or stake him. But first, a little insurance. Silver tapped at Merri’s shields and the former SB agent thinned them immediately.

<If I don’t get the answer I want,> Silver sent, <snap his neck. By the time he heals and is back on his feet, we’ll be long gone.>

<Will do. What answer do you want?>

<You’ll know it when you hear it.>

Shifting his attention to Giovanni, Silver said, “Okay. But I need your word that it goes no farther than you until we get Dante back.”

Giovanni drew in a breath, considering. The fact that he didn’t immediately agree to the terms suggested sincerity to Silver, that Giovanni actually valued his word. Sitting beside the Italian, Merri sipped at her beer, her casual demeanor deceptive. She was a coiled cobra.

Giovanni slanted a sideways look at the petite former SB agent, before returning his gaze to Silver. A knowing smile brushed his lips. He nodded. “You have my word. I will keep to myself anything and everything you confide in me—until Dante is safe. Besides,” he added in a low voice, “I’d hate to be so rude as to force bella Merri to abandon her beer in order to stake me. Or would she shoot me?”

“Who says I can’t do both?” Merri murmured.

Giovanni held both hands up in mock surrender. “Not me.”

Tension uncoiled from Silver’s muscles. Picking up his mug, he drained it, then leaned forward against the table and started talking. He skipped over most details—like Dante’s slipping between the past and the present and his lack of control over his power—and sketched events in broad terms, finishing with, “Something went wrong with Lucien’s search for Heather, so now we’re just waiting for him to haul his winged ass from Gehenna with a new and improved plan B.”

Fire burning in his eyes, Giovanni opened his mouth, then snapped it shut when a sudden buzzing noise— like the world’s largest bumblebee—vibrated into the air. Annie twitched, startled. Reaching into her jeans pocket, she yanked out her cell phone. She frowned as she read the caller ID.

Leaning in for a look, Silver saw: C Cortini. Wait. As in Caterina Cortini? Why would she be calling? His heart skipped a beat. Holy shit. Maybe she has news about Dante. He nudged Annie’s knee with his own. Answer it.

“Want me to put it on speaker?” Annie asked, wiping her barbecue-sauced fingers on a napkin before picking up the cell again.

Silver shook his head. “Don’t want any eavesdroppers. Besides, we’ll”—he nodded at Giovanni and Merri —“be able to hear just fine.”

“Nightkind supersenses,” Annie grumbled. “Must be nice.” Thumbing the Talk button, she said, “I hope you have some good fucking news for us.”

“Annie, thank God. Listen to me, okay? I need to speak to De Noir or Von.”

“Holy shit. Heather,” Silver said, sitting bolt upright, pulse racing, as relief swept across Annie’s face, lit her blue eyes. He snatched the phone from her hand.

Some good news at fucking last.

34 THE CLOCK RUNS OUT

I’M NOT GOING TO wait for you or De Noir, not for anyone. I can’t—there’s no time. But as soon as I find Dante, I promise I’ll let you know exactly where we are. You go after Von. You find our nomad and bring him home. And, Silver?

Yeah?

Thanks for watching over Annie. I owe you.

Ain’t doing it for you. Doing it because I want to. Hey, you felt anything through the bond from Dante?

No. Nothing new, anyway. But don’t worry—I’ll call as soon as I find him.

Heather goosed the speedometer to 85 mph, mulling over everything she’d just learned, including her brief, tense conversation with the assassin’s nightkind brother after she and Silver had respectively filled each other in —Von missing, De Noir silent and most likely still in Gehenna, Mauvais and his new Fallen friend, her escape from SB agents and Cortini.

She tried to kill you?

Yes, but something was very wrong with her. I’ve seen Dante when his programming was triggered and, well, her behavior kind of reminded me of that. Like someone else was pulling the strings.

Molte grazie for not killing her. Where can I find her?

At an abandoned rest stop on I-530 South, near Pine Bluff.

The night blurred past in a streamer of oncoming headlights and red taillights, of soft light glittering from windows in faraway homes, of white lines disappearing beneath the bulleting Nissan. Heather’s hands white- knuckled against the steering wheel.

I feel like I’m running out of time, catin.

No, cher, no. I refuse to lose you.

Too late. Too late. Too late. The clock has run out.

Heather shoved aside the despairing and traitorous thought, refused to examine yet again what she had felt through the bond nearly an hour ago—a shattering desperation, a crumbling resolve, an overwhelming sense of loss.

She hadn’t lied to Silver just to protect him from bad news; she’d lied because she hadn’t been able to say the words, hadn’t been able to force them from her throat.

I think what we’ve all feared, what we all fought to prevent, has happened—

. . . I think he’s had all he can take, doll. Heart and mind . . .

—and Dante has finally broken.

Eyes burning, Heather pressed harder on the gas pedal, following the bond, following her heart, to Baton Rouge.

I feel like I’m running out of time, catin.

No, cher, no. I refuse to lose you.

That was a promise she intended to keep.

ANNIE TUCKED HER CELL phone back into her jeans pocket, watching as Silver rubbed his face in frustration. The relief—hell, be honest, the fucking joy—she’d felt at hearing her sister’s voice, a voice she’d feared she’d never hear again, dimmed a little at Silver’s expression. “Since I seem to be lacking nightkind eavesdropping power, what did she say?”

Silver sighed. He looked at Annie from beneath his dark lashes. “She’s okay, she’s going after Dante and ain’t about to wait for us to catch up.”

Merri scooted out of the booth so that tall, dark, and snobby Giovanni with his sexy Italian purr of a voice could slide out. He pulled a handful of twenties from the pocket of his designer jeans and tossed them on the table. “My treat,” he said with a sexy half-shrug. Looking at Silver, he added, “And thanks for taking me into your confidence.”

“Remember, you gave me your word.”

Giovanni nodded. “I won’t say anything, not even to Renata until after Dante is safe.” He headed for the tavern’s entrance. “I’ll be in touch after I’ve taken care of Caterina,” he called over his shoulder as he pulled the door open. “Ciao, belli.”

Silver shook his head. “Hope I didn’t make a mistake there.”

“If it’s any comfort, I don’t think you did,” Merri said. “But if his mere de sang