Page 34 of Mortal Heart

“They did.” He kissed her forehead. Her skin felt clammy. “We must find a healer with antidotes to demon poisons.”

“I know someone, but I think we’re going to have a tough time getting out of here.” She doubled over with a groan. “Demon poison,” she rasped. “That’s a new one. Wait—what the ever-loving, blood-sucking hell?”

Somehow, despite having disgorged five hundred or so tiny flying demons armed with poisonous swords from his gullet, Henry Farrell staggered to his feet. His jaw hadn’t yet healed completely, but his cheeks were no longer torn. He looked emaciated and weakened, so much so that Ronan wondered how he managed to stand at all.

Trembling with what must have been excruciating pain, Arkady freed herself from Ronan’s arms and faced Farrell. “We found you through Oliver Mora,” she told the skeletal vampire. “He told us how he delivers people to a broker. He works for you. You’re a trafficker.”

“What is it to you, my sweetness?” Farrell gave her a grotesque, lopsided smile. His broken jaw still hung loose. “Our concerns are much more personal, I should think.”

“To you, maybe. To me, this is just business.” Before she finished the sentence, she threw her knife. It was an exceptional throw, especially given her physical condition. In Ronan’s expert opinion, the blade would have buried itself in Farrell’s eye if he hadn’t still been able to move vamp-fast and dodge it.

Ronan’s own blade, thrown a millisecond after Arkady’s in anticipation of exactly that movement, caught Farrell in his left eye. The vampire went down with a scream.

“Yay team,” Arkady said dryly. “You’re on a roll. You’re two for two against bad guys’ eyeballs tonight.”

He helped her over to Farrell, who lay whimpering on his back with the knife protruding from his eye socket. She retrieved her knife from where it had ended up embedded in a wooden whipping post and crouched next to Farrell. “Tell us where to go from here,” she told the vamp. “And I’ll pull out the knife.”

“Take it out.” Farrell tried to make it a command, but his words slurred and his hands twitched. The blade had apparently done enough damage to his brain to affect both his speech and movements. “I will tell you all I know.”

“Talk first.” She flicked the hilt of Ronan’s knife, eliciting a pained groan from Farrell as the blade wobbled. “Better hurry. If your eye heals around that blade, it’s going to hurt a hell of a lot worse getting the knife out.” She paused. “No, wait…on second thought, take your time.”

Farrell let out a garbled sound Ronan realized was a laugh. “No wonder you taste so sweet,” the vampire mumbled. “You have a vampire’s black heart. They are right to want to turn you. You will be greatly feared when you become one of us.”

“I’m fearednow, sweet pea.” Arkady leaned forward so the vamp could see her face. “Or hadn’t you wondered why they haven’t tried again?”

Farrell went for her throat.

Maybe she’d hoped he would. Ronan had noted the way she’d presented her bare neck to Farrell, knowing full well he was desperate for blood to heal as well as payback. Farrell probably thought she was in bad shape after getting stabbed and poisoned by the demons.

And so had Ronan, until Arkady whipped a small tactical stake from her boot almost as fast as he could have pulled one and jammed it into Farrell’s ribcage just deep enough to graze his heart. It was a perfect stab, and she’d done it reflexively.

She was far less affected by the poison than she’d led them both to believe. He’d even used that ruse himself a dozen times, and he still hadn’t realized her behavior was a ploy. He would have been furious at being tricked if he hadn’t been so relieved.

The vampire went preternaturally still in the way only the undead could. Any movement would drive the tip of Arkady’s stake into his heart and turn him to ash.

“Now,” she said conversationally. “Tell me everything you know about this trafficking ring. Start with who cursed you to puke tiny demons.”

“The demon horde was a gift, not a curse.” Farrell smiled despite the dark blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Protection against those who mean me harm.”

“Shame your so-called protectors could be foiled by satin bedsheets and a rack of sex toys, then.” Arkady flicked the knife hilt again. “Your fairy godmother didn’t give you much of a defense, if you ask me. Give us a name and tell us where they’re holed up.”

Farrell flashed his fangs. “My sweetness, if you asked the same question of Mora, you know I cannot speak of my benefactor and live.”

So thegeasthat had killed Mora wasn’t Farrell’s handiwork, but a demon’s. Given the odor of sulfur on the minions at the Pelican, it didn’t surprise Ronan that a demon was behind the trafficking ring.

“I have failed my benefactor,” the wounded vampire continued. “You might as well stake me.”

“Not if that’s the kinder way for you to go,” Arkady retorted. “I’m not into merciful quick ends for worthless slime like you.”

“Perhaps not.” Farrell glanced at Ronan. His smile grew. “You thinkIam worthless, but you freely debase yourself with a disgraced, fallen—”

With one lightning-quick move, Ronan slammed his palm on the hilt of Arkady’s stake and drove it through Farrell’s heart. Farrell crumbled to ash before he could even cry out.

Arkady sucked in a breath. “Youbastard.” She staggered to her feet and confronted Ronan, her fists clenched. “We had an agreement!”

Even as Ronan had staked him, he’d known Farrell had baited him on purpose. Farrell might have been a few fries short of a pleasant meal, as Arkady had noted, and not the smartest of vampires, but he’d clearly guessed Ronan would kill to keep his angelic origin a secret and used that to deny Arkady her revenge, safeguard the identity of the demon behind the trafficking ring, and ensure Ronan and Arkady would have a hell of a time getting out of Nyx alive.

In a fit of pique, Arkady kicked the ash and crumpled suit that was all that remained of Henry Farrell. Her movement caused her to cough thickly and stumble. Ronan reached out, but she smacked his hands aside and grabbed a handful of his vest so she could snarl in his face. “Did we ordid we nothave a fucking agreement?” Her rage appeared to give her additional strength despite the effects of the demon poison. “You selfish asshole. Whatever he was about to call you, you had no right to do that.”

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