Mercy Burns (Myth and Magic 2)

“Especially,” he continued, a slight smile touching one corner of his lips—only it held no warmth, no compassion, just the chilling sense of superiority that was so much a part of this man—“after being locked in that metal-lined cellar. It was a particularly delicious salute to the past, didn’t you think?”

I didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much to say.

“And Leon certainly hasn’t changed that much, so it was surprising that you didn’t recognize him in the truck.” He paused, and something cold and cruel twitched his lips. “He did so enjoy ramming into the two of you.”

Something close to excitement leaped through me. “So you ordered the hit? Not Hannish?”

His smile was arrogant. Overconfident. It had been his downfall once before—and would be again, hopefully. “Hannish was foolish enough to believe it was better to let the two of you wander around aimlessly, but he doesn’t know your tenacity like I do.”

I briefly closed my eyes. One death stood between me and saving Rainey’s soul. I didn’t have to kill Hannish—didn’t have to kill a king’s son.

Only Seth, who might also be a king’s son, but as far as I knew, he wasn’t heir—even if he intended to be.

Seth added, “Of course, I did have to reprimand him for not checking that both of you were dead.”

“Which you no doubt enjoyed doing.” My smile was just as cruel and harsh as his. “But I bet you didn’t enjoy it half as much as we enjoyed killing his fire, breaking his body, and then flying him out to sea to drown.”

The barb hit home. His eyes narrowed fractionally and his anger stirred the air. Most people might have missed the signs, but I knew this man very well.

And he had cared for Leon, although he would never admit it. They weren’t mates in the soul-mate sense of the word, but as bisexual males who didn’t really care where they took their pleasure from, they’d been enjoying each other’s company for most of their lives.

“That,” he said heavily, “was a mistake on your part. I might have let you live otherwise.”

I snorted softly. Given our past history, I was never likely to believe that. “I’m sure Leon’s ghost will be pleased to see how badly you’re taking his death.”

He shrugged, a seemingly casual movement that was oddly edged with anger. “Sometimes sacrifices must be made if we wish our plans to come to fruition.”

Meaning that, even though he cared for Leon, not even the man who’d been his lover for over twenty years was going to get in his way.

“Of course,” he continued, “now that I have decided to kill you, I shall insure your death is a long and painful one. He’d appreciate that.”

I’m sure he would. “Was Leon aware that he was bait?”

“Of course. But he was extremely confident in his ability to handle the muerte.” His gaze pinned me. “Tell me, where exactly did you dump him?”

“That, I can’t say. I can’t fly, remember?”

“Ah, yes. It was such fun prodding Waylin to drop you mid-flight. A shame your brother intervened.” His voice was almost philosophical, yet the anger remained, burning deep in his eyes. “I shall try to retrieve Leon. He was a good lieutenant. Hell, I might even try and save his soul, once we kill the muerte.”

There was nothing I could say that wouldn’t actually get me into more trouble, so I kept my mouth shut and my arms crossed. They couldn’t see my hands and didn’t know that the heat I’d stolen now burned in readiness. I could protect myself if I needed to.

But I was no longer alone in this battle.

Damon was out there and on the move. The awareness of his presence was a distant but ever-strengthening song that made my inner dragon want to dance.

Seth glanced briefly at his watch. “As much as I’m enjoying reliving old times, I really need to get moving. Tomi, if she moves, shoot her.”

Shoot her, not kill her, I noted. But Seth was like that. Maiming always seemed to taste better to him than actual death. “Why am I here, Seth?”

“Two reasons,” he said, almost cheerfully. “First, you’re bait for the muerte.”

I laughed. “If you think Damon will go out of his way to save my butt, you’re chasing down the wrong street.”

“Maybe, but I do think he’d go out of his way to find the leaders of this little operation, and here I am, in a nice little package.”

“And if you think he’s dumb enough to simply walk into a trap, you’re deluded.”

“We caught him once, dear Mercy, and I believe we can catch him again.”