Eternal Kiss of Darkness (Night Huntress World #2)(29)
Author: Jeaniene Frost

Gorgon squeezed Mencheres’s shoulder. "When you no longer need me, I shal leave." That would be soon enough. The grave loomed ahead whether he sought it now or not.

Perhaps he would stage his death to appear as though Radjedef had done it. The thought sent cold satisfaction through Mencheres. You seek my end, Radje, but when it comes, I shall ensure that it brings you down, too.

Gorgon’s mobile phone rang. "Probably the pilot," he murmured, walking away.

Mencheres steeled himself not to take another look around as he left the room and went down the hall of the third floor. The air was still faintly scented with lemon, Kira’s essence lingering as if she were a spirit taunting him.

Mencheres walked faster, taking the stairs two at a time. When he was free of this house, he would be free of reminders of Kira, breaking the strange, hypnotic sway her memory seemed to hold over him. He had no time for this useless longing over a woman who was fated not to be his.

"Sire."

Gorgon’s voice cracked through the empty house, filled with an urgency that made Mencheres spin around in midstep. He ascended the stairs without touching them this time, flying up to the third floor.

Gorgon’s countenance was stony as he held out his phone. "You need to take this." Kira watched Flare through one eye and a haze of pain. After he’d dragged her and Jennifer upstairs into a section of the club that was empty of anyone except two other equally abusive vampires, he’d continued to demand that Kira tell him what vampire sent her here. She refused. The beatings to her face grew more severe, but still, she wouldn’t break her promise to Mencheres. Then Flare had taken her hand and slowly crushed it in his fist, smiling the entire time.

The agony from her bones splintering under that merciless grip had been more intense than anything she’d felt before. Flare kept his hand closed over her shattered one, continuing to squeeze, while his other hand began to yank up her skirt.

"How’d you like to be f**ked while I squeeze your hand tighter with every pump, hmm, sweetie?" Flare crooned.

Kira thought she’d pass out from the pain, which would have been a welcome respite, but she stayed conscious. Everything in her rebelled against breaking her word, but this animal meant what he said. From his expression, Flare would enjoy it, too.

"Mencheres," she gasped out. "He didn’t send me here, but . . . I know Mencheres." Flare let go of her so abruptly she fell over, her vision blackening for several moments.

When Kira could focus again, she saw Flare exchanging a wary glance with the two other vampires.

"That’s a f**king problem," the bald-headed one muttered.

"If she’s telling the truth," Flare countered. The cheerful expression he’d worn for the past hour slipped, and he began to pace. "Put her over there. I need to check this out." The bald vampire hauled Kira up, sitting her in a chair. Everything swam in her vision for a few moments at the agony from her hand being jostled, but she took several deep breaths and kept herself from screaming. Jennifer edged a little closer to Kira’s chair, not touching her but staring at her with silent sympathy.

Kira stayed quiet while Flare began making a series of phone calls, repeating to several people that he urgently needed to get through to Mencheres. She had no idea what sort of response Flare was getting, but every so often, he would throw a calculating, probing glance her way.

She wasn’t sure which felt worse: the pain or her shame at breaking her promise to Mencheres. Still, she couldn’t have allowed Flare to carry through with his threat. From what she knew of Mencheres, he’d understand.

"Finally got through," Flare said with a sharp glance at her. "He’s coming to the phone now. Moment of truth for you, sweetie."

Kira suppressed a shudder. Flare didn’t need to add that what happened in the next few seconds determined whether or not she would die. She already knew that. The question that loomed in her mind was whether or not she could stand what Flare would do to her before he killed her.

"This is Mencheres?" Flare asked. "Yeah, sorry to bother you, but I have this human at my place who insists she belongs to you."

"I said I knew him," Kira corrected at once, coughing a little at the blood in her mouth.

A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, five fingers tightening in warning. Even that slight movement blasted more pain through her hand.

"Shhh," the bald vampire blew out threateningly.

"She’s about five-five, dirty blond hair, pretty. Name on her driver’s license is Kira Graceling," Flare went on.

He straightened from his easy slouch in the next moment, his expression turning grim.

"Uh-huh. Right. No, she’s mostly fine . . . in a club called Around the World on State Street, Chicago Heights. Why don’t we – "

Flare clicked his phone shut. "He hung up, and he said he’s on his way," he told the room at large.

The bald vampire’s hand left Kira’s shoulder. "Shit, bro."

"I didn’t f**king know!" Flare snapped. "I mean, what’re the odds?" Kira was weak with relief at hearing that Mencheres was on his way, but there was too much subtext going on for her to know if that meant she was out of danger or not. And she was having a hard time concentrating while mind-blistering pain continued to sear through her.

"You might want to fix her up," the vampire with the dreadlocks stated. "If Mencheres is coming to get her himself, then she’s higher up on the food chain than just a blood snack to one of his people."

"Maybe not. He’s gotta be local, since he said he’d be here in twenty minutes," Flare replied almost sull enly. "And if you’re right, he’ll be more pissed if she tells him I f**ked her up, but he can’t see for himself that it wasn’t bad."

No t bad? True, compared to what the ghouls had done to her, Kira was in stel ar condition, but how cruel Jennifer’s time with him must have been if this is what Flare considered "not bad."

Jennifer. More shame swept through her. Some savior she’d turned out to be.

"How close are you to Mencheres?" Flare asked her suddenly. "You f**king him, or just feeding him?"

Kira turned her head away in silent refusal to answer. If she read the mood of the room correctly, Flare wouldn’t dare beat her anymore unless Mencheres got here, then left her with Flare out of anger for Kira’s breaking her word. But she didn’t believe Mencheres would do that, no matter how upset he was at her for revealing that she knew him.

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. "