Mercy Burns (Myth and Magic 2)

“Enough,” Damon said, voice flat and quiet, and yet somehow easily heard over the other man’s expostulations.

“Do you know who you’re fucking with?” Leon snarled.

Goose bumps prickled down my spine, and it was all I could do not to step back in fear. But that fear belonged to the past and I would not give in to it now.

“I know your real name is Leon, and I know you’re dead if you don’t cooperate. Everything else I intend to find out,” Damon said. “And I’d appreciate it if you cut the swearing. We do have a lady present.”

Leon looked at me, and it left me in no doubt that he not only recognized me, but that he’d kill me given half the chance. “I can’t see a lady, but I can see one fine fucking whore.”

Damon hit him. Hard.

Leon spat out some blood and teeth, then said, “What do you want?”

“Answers,” Damon said, and lightly touched the other man’s shoulder. His fingers began to glow, but it wasn’t caused by internal heat. He was stealing Leon’s.

Leon swore and began to struggle, the wire around his neck starting to cut into his skin. He didn’t seem to care. Damon pushed down on his hand, pressing the other man’s shoulder into the bar’s surface, forcing him to be still. “Stop, or I’ll break it.”

“Then keep your thieving hands to yourself, you bastard!”

“If you behave, and if you answer my questions, you’ll keep your heat. If not—”

He didn’t finish the threat. He didn’t need to. Neither Leon nor I were in any doubt as to what he meant, although I certainly had doubts as to whether Leon would actually survive this encounter

anyway.

“What do you want to know?” It was sullenly said, but the fire in Leon’s brown eyes suggested he’d far from given up. Yet the Leon from my past knew when to fight and when to roll over, and his bravado here just didn’t sit right.

The tension in Damon’s body suggested he thought the same. “Tell me about the draman towns you’ve been destroying.”

Leon snorted. “Even if I was aware of such a thing happening, what would it matter to you? Draman are nothing more than parasites living off the riches of the cliques.”

“Draman do all the dirty work,” I cut in. “And we’re responsible for the day-to-day running of the cliques. You need us, even if you won’t admit it.”

Damon gave me a warning look, then pressed his hand down harder, fingers glowing. This time a hiss of air escaped Leon’s lips. “Do not play games with me, Leon. We know you’re involved. We know Seth and Hannish are also involved. And you will answer our questions or I will ensure a fate far worse than death befalls you.”

Sweat popped out along Leon’s forehead and his skin began to get a drawn, ashen look. It wasn’t dangerous, not yet, but it was evidence enough that Damon meant what he said.

“All right, I’ll cooperate.”

And despite the desperate edge in his words, I could taste the lie. Something was going on here—something we didn’t understand.

“Then tell me why you’re destroying the draman towns.”

“We were paid to. The Nevada king wanted the parasites away from his boundaries, and when they refused to move, he acted.”

It all sounded perfectly reasonable—or as reasonable as dragon culture sometimes got. And yet I didn’t believe him. He might have had his reasons, but they weren’t the ones he was currently quoting.

“Marcus Valorn would not have ordered such destruction, so quit the lies and give me the truth.”

Leon’s dark eyes narrowed. “Why would a muerte be worried about what’s happening to a few small draman towns in Nevada?”

“If it was only draman being destroyed, perhaps I wouldn’t be. But a king’s son was killed in one of the incidents, and that’s a whole different kettle of fish.”

Leon absorbed that news with barely a flicker of his eyelids. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Like hell he didn’t. Damon obviously thought the same, because the glow around his fingers flared again.

Leon screamed. “He saw Hannish! We had no choice.”