Home > Archangel's Blade (Guild Hunter #4)(57)

Archangel's Blade (Guild Hunter #4)(57)
Author: Nalini Singh

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.”

The vampire’s eyes snapped to her. “Shut up, mortal.”

Walking back to lean against the hood, Dmitri glanced at Honor. “Can’t I touch her a little?” His smile when he looked at Jewel was pure sex—if you liked your sex with a great deal of pain . . . if you liked to scream until your throat was raw. “Your skin, Jewel, so very soft,” he murmured, and while there was nothing overtly threatening about his words, if he’d been speaking to Honor in that tone, she’d have pumped him full of bullets and run like hell.

And then he took out the knife.

Jewel shoved herself back against the tree, began babbling. “Evert had to know. He and Tommy do everything together, but they weren’t part of the center. The one who organized this, he made very sure to keep his identity contained, but there’s a rumor in certain circles that he once worked at the Tower. How else would he know about the appetites of so many?”

“Certain circles,” Honor said, putting her hand on Dmitri’s shoulder, a silent reminder that Jewel wasn’t worth even a fragment of his soul. “Who?”

A single smile from Dmitri and the vampire gave up three names.

Fifteen more minutes of questioning later, it was clear she knew nothing else. While Dmitri hadn’t laid another finger on her, she was so petrified, her teeth were chattering, her eyes darting this way and that.

For an instant, Honor felt pity. “Enough, Dmitri.”

Moving with preternatural speed, he snapped Jewel’s neck before the vampire even had the chance to draw in a breath to scream. “She’s not dead,” he said after it was done. “At this level of strength, she’ll rise again unless I decapitate her. Venom can fly her to Andreas in the chopper.”

Shocked at the brutal swiftness of the punishment, she said, “I thought it would make me feel better, the idea of her being tortured, but it doesn’t.”

“There can be no mercy here.” The words of a man who had seen centuries pass, rivers of blood soak the earth. “The instant word gets out that we’re doing clean executions, the Made will lose the fear that ensures they don’t dare things such as this more often.” He sent a message to Venom as he spoke. “For the old ones, death is no threat. But pain . . . everyone fears pain.”

She understood what he was saying, certainly had no loyalty to Jewel, and yet—“It seems so . . .”

“Inhuman?” A grim smile. “We aren’t mortals, Honor. We never will be.”

She wondered if he was giving her a warning. If so, it was unnecessary. “I’ve always seen you, Dmitri.” No matter if she believed there was more to him, this vein of darkness was also an integral part of his nature, couldn’t be ignored or wished away.

Chopper blades sounded at that instant, and soon Venom was landing the machine. The vampire whistled when he saw the carnage, but said nothing, picking up Jewel Wan’s body and stowing it with all the care you might show to a sack of potatoes. “You want a ride?”

“No, we’ll drive.”

Venom slanted Honor an assessing look, but said nothing as he got into the helicopter and lifted off in a wild rush of air.

Leaving the abandoned Town Cars where they were, she and Dmitri got back into the rental. A couple of calls later, and Dmitri had organized a cleanup crew both for the cars and for the guards.

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