Night Huntress 06 - Eternal Kiss of Darkness (16 page)

Though this was hardly the way she’d hoped to see him again.

“Not gonna answer me, huh?” Flare said, with a glint in his eye. “Smart girl, knows I can’t touch her with the big dog coming to get her. But I can touch Jennifer, because she’s
mine.
”

Flare was behind Jennifer in an instant, his fangs cutting a thin red trail down her shoulder. Kira was on her feet before she even had a chance to wince at how much it hurt her to move.

“I’m not sleeping with Mencheres,” she got out through gritted teeth.

Flare let Jennifer go. She stumbled off to the other side of the room, looking scared but not hurt aside from those two red scratches. Dreadlocks and Baldy made noises that sounded like relieved whoops.

“That’s a load off,” Flare muttered.

“Oh yeah,” Dreadlocks said. Then he laughed. “Know how dead you’d be if you worked over the first woman Mencheres has taken up with in
how
long?”

“He’d be grinding your bones to make his fucking bread,” Baldy joked, to more laughter.

“Scared me for a minute,” Flare admitted, not looking afraid now.

Kira glanced away from them. Maybe if she concentrated very hard, she could focus on something other than their smirking laughter or the pain radiating up her arm. She leaned against the wall with her good side, closing her functional eye, taking in deep breaths and trying to mentally will herself away.

Unfortunately, even after several minutes of trying, no meditative technique Kira tried could hold up against the throbbing anguish in her hand. If Flare let her go, she could use some of the blood in those vials at her house to heal herself. But could she take some of that limited supply, knowing it might result in robbing Tina of a year or more of life?

“Do you feel that?” Flare muttered.

Kira opened her eye in time to see the two doors across the room explode outward, ripped off the hinges by some invisible force. They crashed onto the floor with a thud that seemed to reverberate around the room. Flare, Baldy, and Dreadlocks jumped, backing away.

Then a tall cloaked figure swept into the room, long dark hair swinging with his rapid stride, charcoal-colored gaze turned to blazing green.

Kira’s heart felt like it skipped a beat.
Mencheres.

His eyes seemed to meet hers without pausing over anyone else in the room. Then Mencheres stopped, his features hardening like sand turned to glass. The fury that emanated from him was palpable, making her heart skip a beat again.

Was her beaten condition the reason for his anger? Or was Mencheres that furious at
her
?

M
encheres crossed the room to Kira, rage erupting through him as he took in her battered face. One sniff revealed that though she’d been grievously mistreated, she had not been raped, which changed her captors’ fate from a slow, tortuous death to merely a quick, painful one.

Then Mencheres saw Kira’s hand—swollen, bloody, and misshapen—with shards of bone piercing her skin.
A slow
,
tortuous death it was
,
then.

He didn’t spare a glance at the three vampires as he gently took her into his arms. From their auras, they were too young and weak to pose any threat to him, even with his back turned. Mencheres’s mouth tightened when he felt Kira flinch away from his touch. Was it from the pain she was in, or from fear of him?

He cut open his wrist with his fangs, holding the bloodied slash to Kira’s mouth. She didn’t attempt to turn her head away, to his relief, though she grimaced as she swallowed. Then a harsh gasp came from her.

“Your hand will hurt as it heals. It will quickly pass,” Mencheres said, keeping his wrist pressed to her mouth. Even though his wound closed in seconds, drops of blood that Kira could swallow still clung to his wrist.

Something low clenched inside him as he felt her warm tongue flick across his flesh. Before his gaze, Kira’s nose straightened back into its normal, lovely slope, her swollen eye cleared, her lip mended, and her hand stretched, fingers losing their twisted, crippled malformation until they became straight and smooth again. Even though more blood wasn’t necessary, Mencheres kept his wrist to her mouth simply because he wanted to feel her lips on him for a few moments longer.

“Yeah… so you must be Mencheres,” a voice behind him said. “I’m Flare, and this is Patches and Wraith.”

He ignored them, focusing on Kira’s eyes as the pain left her gaze and her breathing lost its raggedness. She sniffed, then coughed as some of the remaining blood from her previously broken nose went back up her nasal passages. Mencheres had no handkerchief, so he wiped Kira’s face with his sleeve, removing his wrist from her mouth at last.

“Is the pain gone?” he asked.

“It’s gone.” Her gaze flickered to him before skidding away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I tried not to tell them your name, but—”

“But as soon as she did, I didn’t touch her again,” that same voice interrupted behind him. “Hey, you’d have done the same thing to someone who crashed your place and tried to make off with your property, right?”

Now the other vampire had his full attention. Mencheres turned around, lasering his gaze on Flare. “Would I?” he asked, drawing the two words out.

Kira had been harshly abused out of loyalty to him, even though he’d only bid her not to speak of him or vampires to anyone
human
. He knew how much agony the injury to her hand would have caused with its abundance of nerve endings. Flare would have known that, too, and this fool expected him not to avenge her suffering?

“If I would torture a human for attempting an act she could not possibly complete,” Mencheres went on, each word drenched in ice, “then what do you think I will do to a vampire who needlessly abused someone under my protection?”

Flare’s expression became alarmed. The two other vampires began to edge away from Mencheres, but he slammed them into immobility with a flick of his mind.

“Now, listen,” Flare began, holding out his hands. “She wouldn’t say who she belonged to, and I couldn’t control her mind to find out any other way.”

Mencheres debated slaughtering them before any more useless words assailed his ears, but then decided against it. Kira had experienced enough violence tonight. Besides, these rooms were probably covered by security cameras, and he would leave nothing behind that might cause an issue for Kira later.

He’d kill these three another time, in a more private place.

“I only tried to help a young girl get back to her family,” Kira said. She pointed at a human crouched in the corner. “He kidnapped her and forced her to strip here.”

Flare shrugged. “She wanted to get involved in the vamp world. She got her wish. Can’t help it if she’s crying about it now.”

Another reason to kill the fool. Young vampires who gloried in abusing humans just because they could would cause even more trouble when they grew older and sought more challenging sport. It was a blatant lie that he’d had no recourse except torture to find out who Kira belonged to. They hadn’t even attempted another way.

“We are leaving,” Mencheres told Flare, his voice daring the other vampire to object.

Footsteps approached. Mencheres glanced up, expecting to see Gorgon, who’d come here by car instead of flying as Mencheres had. But the vampire striding into the room wasn’t his loyal friend. It was his oldest enemy.

Radjedef smiled. “Menkaure, you look surprised to see me.”

“Radje.” Mencheres’s voice was a barely contained growl. “You follow me now? How empty your days must be.”

“I followed
him
,” Radje said, nodding at Gorgon, who appeared behind him in the doorway. “You were a bit too hasty for me to track, but to my luck, he was not.”

“My apologies, sire,” Gorgon said, sounding both frustrated and contrite.

“Who’s he?” the bald one Flare introduced as Patches asked.

Radje drew himself up to his full six feet. “I am a Law Guardian.”

“Don’t fuckin’ believe it, a cop when you need one,” Flare muttered.

“What do we have here?” Radje asked, coming closer. Mencheres shifted as if bored, but by doing so, he placed himself squarely between Kira and Radje. From his old enemy’s smirk, the action hadn’t gone unnoticed. “This same human again? Menkaure, do I detect an unusual interest from you?”

“If by interest you mean coming to collect my property, then yes, I am interested,” Mencheres replied coolly.

Kira took in a sharp breath at being referred to as “property,” but Mencheres didn’t turn around to look at her. She was safer if Radjedef believed Kira was worth no more to him than any other human he’d claimed under his line.

Radje appeared to be mulling Mencheres’s sincerity. “You are very protective of your people, even property. But there’s something more here, I believe. You.” Radje’s gaze swung to Flare. “You implied that you were glad a Guardian was here. Why? What transpired with Mencheres and this human?”

Flare glanced at Mencheres before he spoke. “Uh, I grabbed that human when I heard her tell my girl that she had a silver-filled gun to take her away from me. Then she wouldn’t tell me who she belonged to without prompting, but finally she says she’s with Mencheres. I called him, he came, seemed pretty pissed at us for smacking her around, but it’s not cool for someone to try and steal my property, right?”

Mencheres silently cursed himself for not ripping the heads off Flare, Patches, and Wraith as soon as he arrived. Radjedef would have nothing on him then. Only the other vampires’ Masters would, if they chose to war with Mencheres over Flare, Patches, and Wraith’s deaths.

Radje had a sly smile on his face as glanced from Mencheres to Flare, sensing the noose tightening. “Did Mencheres threaten you? Remember—I am a Guardian, so you must answer me honestly.”

Flare shuffled his feet. “Not really. He was just about to leave with her when you showed up.”

Radje laughed, so loud and merry, Kira jumped. “Oh, you poor fool. If he was leaving without even a harsh word uttered at you, he had no intention of letting you live to see the next moonrise. When my old friend is truly angry, he never bothers with words. He only kills.”

Mencheres kept his expression impassive, but he did not bother to deny it. Radjedef knew him too well.

“These are serious charges against you, Menkaure,” Radje went on, still in that same cheerful tone. “How do you plead? Do you admit that you sent your human to steal this vampire’s property?”

“No, he didn’t.”

Mencheres swung around to face Kira. He’d been about to say yes, he’d directed
all
of her actions, but she’d spoken up before he could utter a word.

“Do not say anything else,” Mencheres growled. Radjedef could only impose steep monetary penalties on him and damage his standing with the Guardian Council, but Kira was far more vulnerable to the Guardian’s judgments.

“I’m not going to stand here and let you be blamed for my actions,” Kira muttered.

“Do not—” Mencheres began.

“Silence!” Radje roared, all pretense of geniality gone. “I am the Law, and unless you choose to have the charges against you grow even more severe, Menkaure, you will not interrupt her again.”

Frustration coursed through him. If he forcibly rendered Kira mute with his power, he’d be in direct defiance of a Guardian’s order—with witnesses. Radjedef had been waiting countless centuries for Mencheres to make such a mistake. If he spoke at all now, his co-ruler and his people would pay for it, not just himself.

“I haven’t seen Mencheres in over a week,” Kira went on, her jaw set in that stubborn line. “He had no idea I was coming here. I’m a private investigator, and I recognized Jennifer from one of the case files at my job. She clearly wasn’t here of her own free will, so I offered to help her escape. And yes, I told her I was armed. Mencheres only got involved when Flare caught me and called him.”

“ ’S about right from what I know,” Flare muttered. Patches and Wraith also murmured their agreement.

Radje looked disappointed, but it was all Mencheres could do not to roar with pain. Kira had no idea what she’d just done.

“Once he knew of your actions, Menkaure did nothing to reprimand you?” Radje sounded skeptical. “That’s tantamount to authorizing your activities.”

“We didn’t get that far. I’m sure Mencheres is
very
angry at me.” Kira glanced at him with those words, blind to the trap she’d dug for herself. “But you showed up right after he got here, so he didn’t have a chance to do anything about it.”

Radje let out a disappointed noise. “Very well, Menkaure, your human has exonerated you. Will you be killing her now, or shall I?”

M
encheres listened to Kira seal her fate as if he were trapped inside a terrible dream. For several frozen moments, he could almost see her death happening before him; Radje snapping her neck with a careless flick of his wrist. Or opening her jugular to leave Kira choking on her own blood as it streamed from her throat. What it would feel like to watch her die? Would it bring back the antipathy he’d had about living before he met her, making him once again view the impending darkness in his future as something to be welcomed?