Cold Hard Secret (Secret McQueen) (11 page)

This wasn’t a threat. This was just how I dealt with guys like him.

“I’m sure you guys, being European, heard all about Grendel.”

A few of the older ones went wide-eyed. The younger ones, unless they had English degrees or a fondness for epic poetry, were out of their depth.

“Do you know who killed him?”

Another vamp went to flee, but the big guy grabbed him by the back of the shirt and hurled him into the pit. Desmond must have made short order of him because the screaming didn’t last long.

“Thanks for the help.” I smiled. “But I don’t need it.”

“You don’t need help because you’re about to die, tiny one.”

I might have taken a chance to be flattered that he thought I was
tiny
. After all, it was nice to know a big guy thought you were dainty. But since I was about to filet this guy, his opinion on my figure didn’t factor much into my self-worth.

“Horizontal or vertical?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“Or would you like me to quarter you up like the old days?”

“You’re mad.”

“Mad crazy or mad pissed? I mean…let’s be honest, they’re both accurate.” I must have seemed out of my mind right then. I was handily outnumbered, and a guy twice my size was towering over me, ready to throttle me with his bare hands. To an outsider, this might not look great for me.

“I want to know how you’d like to be cut up. Think of it as your last request. If I was extra nice, I’d cut your head off first, then you wouldn’t feel the rest of it.”

He laughed, like this was the funniest offer he’d ever heard. “And what if I said I want you to be mean?”

I don’t think any of them saw the sword move, because there was a collective gasp when he pitched forward onto the floor, but his legs from the knee down stayed standing. He fell so heavily I could feel the vibration of it through my feet. He screamed, no longer trying to intimidate me.

Pretty hard to scare someone who had literally cut you off at the knees.

“That’s where’d I’d start if I was being mean.” Then I sliced through his neck like it was butter, and his head, eyes still wide, rolled across the floor and fell into the pit.

I hoped there were enough nerves left for him to get a good look at Desmond’s teeth before they bit into him.

“
Who’s next?
” I asked again.

The place where they’d parted to let the big vamp through was still open, and I stepped over his body, dodging the pieces of the girl I’d killed before him. “Go now. Go to your Tribunal and beg forgiveness. Take your penance. Get out of my sight.”

I should kill them all for the part they played. I should kill them because of what they now knew about me. But I had something else to attend to first, and it mattered more to me than keeping my secret.

I had to find Peyton.

Chapter Fifteen

As the remaining vamps and human lackeys ran for the hills, a
thud
brought my attention back to the pit. The harrowing form of wolf-Desmond was scrambling over the edge, his claws digging into the stone, and he cleared the lip and got onto solid footing.

“How the…?”

I thought of the vamps who’d been tossed into the pit. Desmond must have used their bodies as a platform to get a better jump out.

Smart wolf.

He chuffed at me, shaking blood from his fur. I wasn’t afraid of him anymore, at least not afraid he would attack me. But seeing him like this did tickle at the fear center of my brain, making goose bumps rise on my arms. I never thought of Desmond as a killer, or capable of killing, because he was just my sweet, kind boyfriend. But this Desmond had shredded a couple vampires like they were deli meat, and if I hadn’t soothed his savage beast with my own…

No, he wouldn’t have hurt me.

Would he?

I didn’t have time to think about what might have happened, but it was strange to know there was a monster inside him the same as there was in me. He was a darker creature than I’d given him credit for, and knowing that made him seem more on my level somehow. Like he wasn’t better than me. We were equally fucked up.

“Can you find him?” I asked, knowing the wolf’s sense of smell was vastly superior to my own.

He snorted and let out a short growl.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

The wolf charged off, his feet momentarily slipping on the pool of blood fanning across the floor. When he got his paws back under him, he shot me a look over his shoulder that—given the violet-gray eyes—was pure Desmond.

A little warning next time.

I offered an apologetic shrug, and it was enough for him because he bolted again, chasing a scent that was beyond my means to find. If not for my supernatural speed and running stamina, he would have gotten so far ahead I’d surely lose him. Thankfully I was able to stay a few paces behind, but he had the advantage when it came to clearing pipes, and soon I was chasing his shadow back through the tunnels until we were at the metro employee passage where we’d originally entered.

Peyton stood in the doorway, turning backwards only when he heard us enter. The door to the metro was open. All he had to do was step through and he could easily disappear into the crowd of commuters. Chasing him with a bloody sword and a giant wolf would be impossible.

He looked surprised to see me.

“For a half-breed, you’re awfully hard to kill.”

Half-breed.
A sad truth now known by all the rogues I’d set free. Once I got out of here, the repercussions of the night would echo through the rest of my life, there was no doubt about it. Things would never be the same for me if those vampires went to the French Tribunal and told them what they’d learned.

But I had to get out of here alive for any of that to matter.

I’d come this far, and I wasn’t leaving until my business was done.

“What are you going to do?” he sneered. “You don’t have a cadre of wardens here, girl. You have one pathetic wolf and a sword. Do you think I’m scared of you?”

“You ran.”

“I don’t like to get my hands dirty.”

Blood dripped from the blade of my sword, pooling into a tacky glue on my palms. The sword was still hot.

“I do.”

“You’ll never chain me again.” His bravado faltered, and the quiver of his words cut into his supervillain veneer. For a moment he seemed as young as he looked. He was a boy of seventeen, staring down the end of his days. In that brief flicker of seconds I imagined what his human life had been. I thought about how brutal and cruel his turning must have been to make him this way.

Then I remembered—he’d always been this way.

The sadistic, manipulative, wicked monster had been a part of him when he was human, because vampirism didn’t make someone evil.

The whispers of my sympathy vanished.

“I don’t want to chain you, Peyton.”

“They wanted me alive last time.”

“They never cared if you were alive or not. Bringing you in was meant to test my mettle or have you kill me. You’ve always been the Tribunal’s pawn, even when you went rogue.” I inched forward as I spoke, closing the distance between us. “If you thought you mattered, you were sorely mistaken.”

“You won’t kill me.” Of this he sounded so certain, and I laughed. I laughed the way vampires used to laugh at me when they thought I couldn’t execute them. I laughed until I was crying, and it was his turn to look at me like I was mad.

“Do you really think I won’t?” I asked once I caught my breath. “You think this is a symbiotic relationship, don’t you? That I
need
you?” I thought of the Joker again and how Batman could never kill him. But that was because the Dark Knight didn’t kill.

I was no hero.

“You—” He started to speak, but I cut him off by taking a pronounced step forward.

“Hey, Alexandre?” I smiled, baring my fangs at him. I must have looked insane.

I felt insane.

“What?”

“Run.”

He hesitated, as I hoped he would, frozen by uncertainty or stupidity. The last mistake he’d ever make.

I lunged for him, and that got him moving. He dove headfirst out of the door, landing on his back next to the train track. Six inches farther and the Paris Metro would have done my job for me.

I hopped down, sword angled towards the ground as I stepped over him, lowering my body so I was straddling him and the katana’s blade was under his chin, hovering over the skin.

“Isn’t this romantic?” I asked. We were hidden by the shadows, but the glow from the metro platform was a literal light at the end of the tunnel. Snippets of conversation floated towards us, a reminder of the real world we were both hoping to escape to. I pushed the blade down until a line of bright red blood seeped from his neck. He winced. “What’s the matter? I thought you liked it when it hurt.”

“I have something you want,” he whispered.

I raised both eyebrows and let up on the blade. I hadn’t figured he’d go through the bargaining phase, but if he wanted to pretend he could talk his way out of this, so be it. “Oh?”

“Mercy.”

At first I thought he was asking for my mercy, and I almost laughed again, but then the real meaning of the word sank in. My mother. “What about her?”

“I know where she is.”

This gave me real pause, and I chewed the inside of my cheek. “So what, I let you go and you tell me? That’s what you want, right?”

“Seems like a fair trade. Her life for mine.” He was speaking slowly and quietly to avoid meeting the blade again.

I leaned in close and let my nose brush against his. I met his eyes without flinching. “I found you. I can find her.”

“Not before she takes more of what matters to you.” He sounded smug when he said it, and I recoiled as if I’d been slapped.

So he knew about Brigit.

“Get up.” I rocked back onto my heels and stood up, one foot planted firmly on either side of his ribs. I didn’t offer him a hand as he got to his feet, checking his neck, where the flesh wound had already healed.

He did nothing to hide his expression, a mix of relief and superiority. The look plainly said,
I knew you wouldn’t kill me.

“Louisiana or Manitoba?” I asked. He’d said she would go after what I loved, and though New York was the most obvious target, I didn’t think she’d be in a hurry to cross into Lucas’s territory after what he’d done to her makeshift pack last time. She’d find another way to lash out at me.

“Warm or cold, warm or cold?” He was enjoying himself now.

Light started to form at the opposite end of the tunnel, and the ground shuddered beneath us. “I don’t have time for games.”

“Where’s your sense of fun?” he teased.

“Just tell me.”

He stepped backwards, inching towards the platform where I would lose him. I didn’t know how or if I’d find him again once he vanished into the crowd.

“
Tell me,
” I snarled.

“I’d say
go home
, but that won’t narrow it down. How about I say,
go to the one who named you.
” He grinned, pleased with himself.

I thought of the postcard
Grandmere
had received, and my stomach bottomed out. On the outside I forced a smile, showing him my teeth one last time. He sure didn’t like the look of that.

“Thanks.”

Peyton turned, ready to bolt for civilization. As the rattle of the train drew near, I swung my arm at the same moment he dove away from me. It wasn’t the clean swipe I’d have liked, but I didn’t need this to be perfect.

I just needed it to
be
.

He staggered, spinning back around to face me, and as he did a wash of his blood hit my face from the open wound in his neck.

“Shame. A clean cut would have killed you instantly.”

He teetered, stumbling in my direction with his mouth gaping open, wheezing in his attempt to make words. I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him close, ignoring the warm wetness down my front where his blood was soaking me through. I tipped his head back, and it went too far thanks to the new hinge in his neck. But I got a good angle at his open mouth. Placing my sword against my leg, I reached between his lips and got a firm grip on his remaining fang.

“I said I’d take this one day.”

I ripped it out, root and all, and released him, collecting my sword again.

As he teetered precariously, I slashed out again, and this time his head hit the ground, eyes glassy and empty of life. His body continued to sway, and I gave it one last kick so it fell back onto the track, jerking spasmodically on the electrified rail.

The train barreled around a corner, and I hopped back into the maintenance tunnel, taking a last look over my shoulder as the body of Alexandre Peyton turned to pulp beneath the belly of a Paris Metro train.

I shut the door and looked down at the wolf who seemed to be saying
Damn, bitch
with his eyes.

I wiped the sword off against the leg of my leather pants and slid it back into the scabbard.