Page 47 of Thirst
I felt the impact, but the point snagged in the leather jacket.
I wrenched the dagger from his hand, then tore the other from his chest. Blood sprayed and I jumped back as a dark, magical fire ignited, licking through his veins. Smoke poured from his eyes, and blood dribbled from his mouth.
He slid down the wall, crumpling into the snow. A beat passed. Then black-edged flames burst out of the open wound in his chest.
Behind me, boots crunched in the snow. I whipped around in time to catch the guy I’d cuffed lurch around a corner, doubled over. I sprinted after him.
He skidded left and veered into the nearest backyard, but I was faster. I caught his upper arm, jerking him to a halt. He let out a low, despairing sound and tried again to jam his heel into my instep.
“Enough.” I swung him around and frog-marched him back into the alley. Behind the bar, I shoved him into a corner and patted him down, turning up a silver switchblade, a phone and a rental car remote. I kept the blade and tossed the remote into the snow. The phone I stowed in a pocket before grabbing his upper arm again and pulling him around the bar toward the parking lot.
He wrenched his arm from my grip and tried to take off.
I grabbed him by the back of his collar and hauled him back, my switchblade to his throat. “Listen, you bastard. Stay put or I’ll slit you open like a trout.” I’d lost the gruff Wayne-Baker voice.
The man’s nostrils flared. “Cain?” he breathed.
He twisted his head, straining to see me. His glamour wavered, and I was staring into Nyx Nazaire’s wide hazel eyes, a diamond winking in her left nostril.
Son of a motherless goat.
That’s why he—no, she—smelled familiar.
The glamour dropped, leaving her in the outfit from the bar, her soft red curls tumbling down her back. I lifted the switchblade from her throat and yanked her around to face me.
We stared at each other as the snow fell around us.
“You?” I gritted. “You’re part of this?”
She’d come here to negotiate with Baker. To have me kidnapped. Delivered to her father like a gift.
She hadn’t even tried to warn me.
A dull ache opened in my chest. So much for wanting her. So much for much for my thrice-damned protective instincts.
Gods, I was an ass. Baker had been right after all. I was a weak excuse for a man, too blind to see she’d been playing me all along.
“Cain.” She licked her lips. “I—I can explain…”
I bet you can.
My body unlocked from its stunned posture, cold fury pouring into the dull ache like fuel on a slow burn. I snapped the switchblade shut and shoved it into my pocket.
“Call me Lieutenant,” I said through my teeth, and started for the truck again, dragging her with me.
14
Nyx
A trap. They’d found out about Baker, and they’d sent Cain instead.
The realization stabbed into my brain. My breath hitched. My pulse stumbled.
But Cain hadn’t expected me. His expression had contorted—first with shock, then with anger. For a beat there, I was sure he’d send me to my final grave alongside Jerome.
“Move,” he bit out, adding a shake for good measure.
My stomach dropped to my lug-soled boots. I tried to plant my feet, but the parking lot was a slick mess, and Cain didn’t slow, just propelled me in the direction he wanted me to go. I skidded, wrists burning as the spiked silver cuffs dug in.
