A flash of vicious rage in those onyx-dark eyes that turned Honor’s guess into truth even before Jiana said, “I would’ve forgiven his taking of you—it was an intriguing amusement after all.” Words designed to stab and cut. “But the stupid boy planned to take two more hunters after I warned him to stay quiet and out of sight.”

So Jiana had set out to torture, then execute him. If she had succeeded, Amos’s death would’ve been far more painful than anything Honor could’ve ever devised . . . for he would’ve died looking into the pitiless face of the one woman who was meant to love him without corruption or condition.

A woman whose mouth now curved into a nasty smile. “I did so enjoy being kind to you in the pit. I had plans to return, to earn your trust. Your anguish would’ve been all the sweeter when I turned on you.”

“Enough,” Dmitri said, cutting Jiana off when she would’ve continued. “Where is Amos?”

“If I knew, do you think I would’ve alerted the guards?” Not giving any warning, Jiana lunged at the blade against her throat, but Dmitri was faster, dancing the weapon out of her way.

“There will be no easy death for you,” he said, gripping the vampire by the throat and lifting her up off her feet. “You will come before Raphael.”

Jiana began to kick and scream. “We fall under your purview, Dmitri! You must mete out the punishment!”

“First we must know all of what you have done.” With those words, he snapped his hand.

Jiana’s head lolled, her body going limp, and Honor realized he’d broken her neck as he’d done Jewel Wan’s. “It’ll be easier to transport her this way,” he said when he saw her staring.

The violence of his world staggered her, but she was no innocent. She’d known from the instant she decided to step onto this path that it would be no gentle ride. That didn’t mean she had to accept everything as it was. “She would’ve gone anyway.”

Dmitri passed Jiana’s limp body over to another vampire, with orders for her to be taken to the Tower under constant guard. “I was getting sick of her voice.”

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“Dmitri.”

A dark glance, fine jewel-like beads of water collecting on lashes black as the night. “Trying to gentle me?”

“That line you walk,” she said, knowing he was pushing her on purpose, “it’s very thin. I’m trying to stop you from crossing it. Everything you do, every decision you make, it has a cumulative effect.”

He strode to the edge of the rise, a black silhouette against the chill gray of the morning, his eyes on the gracious home below. “Near to a thousand years, Honor.”

“You’re an almost-immortal.” Moving to join him, she touched her fingers to his. “You have another thousand to step away from that line.”

Dmitri’s expression was unreadable when he looked at her, his thoughts hidden. “Can you track Amos?”

Aware she couldn’t hope to convince him to take another path when their relationship was barely formed, she held her peace for the moment. “The blood here survived, but I’m guessing the rain will have made a mess of any smaller traces. However, Amos was bleeding badly so there’s a chance if he didn’t manage to get to a vehicle.”

“It should be safe, but take someone with you.” He raised his hand and she felt a rush of air above her head as wings of sooty black streaked across to land lower down the rise. “Jason will keep you company. I have something to attend to.”

She caught the edge in his tone. “Dmitri.”

“I’m going to personally tear apart Jiana’s Enclave property, and I’ll set Tower personnel to ensuring Amos has no hidden bolt-holes. If there are any files naming those who accepted his invitation, I’ll find them.”

Drawing in a deep breath, she looked out over the flowers. “I think we tracked them all.” There were no unknown scents or bodies in her memories, no voices that didn’t fit. “Thank you.”

A brush over her hair, and then he was gone, leaving her to her task.

She used every ounce of her skill, even asked Elena to drop by and confirm, but her instincts proved correct—Amos had bled through the culvert, but his trail ended there.

“Car,” Elena agreed when Honor showed her the tracks, her words crisp regardless of the dark circles under her eyes. “No hint of any further scent. You want me to tell the Tower to put out an alert on vehicles owned by him?”

“He’s too smart to have used anything that can be traced back to him.” Amos’s cunning was a vicious thing.

A single bead of water rolled off the white-gold of a primary feather as the other hunter spread her wings a fraction. “Never know with immortals—arrogance can sometimes blind them to reality.”

“Yes.” Honor took in the dark circles again, the lines of strain. “Tough night?”

The other woman blew out a breath, strands of her hair escaping her braid to whisper across her face. “Was up until five a.m. talking with one of my sisters. She’s going through some stuff.” A shake of her head. “Love can kick you in the gut sometimes.”

Honor thought of Dmitri, of how vulnerable she was to him, and couldn’t disagree. “But when it’s right . . .”

“Yes.” Elena’s eyes met her own, the silver shimmering despite the lack of sunlight. “I’m in no position to throw stones about getting involved with dangerous men, so I’ll just say—living in the world of immortals can be brutal. You ever need anything, including support to tie Dmitri up so you can torment him with a fork, call me.”

Honor’s lips twitched, an unexpected respite. “You still haven’t forgiven him for that.”

“I intend to carry the grudge into eternity.” Those pale, striking eyes returned to the culvert, to the blood trail, all humor fading. “I’m not a mother, but to do what you say Jiana did . . .”

“Yes.”

Elena left soon afterward, her wings a splash of brilliance against the steel of the sky, but Honor didn’t return to the city. Instead, she walked to join Jason where he stood in the shadow of an old magnolia tree, its leaves a thick waxy green. “I’d like a look through the house.” It was an itch at the back of her neck, a sense that she’d missed something . . . or perhaps seen something she hadn’t understood at the time.

The house was as elegant as the last time she’d stepped inside it—except for the evidence of a violent fight.




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