Page 36 of Death Deals

Another shot blared, this one whizzing in between us and just missed. I glanced up to see one of Andre’s vamps tackling the club owner before he could fire at us again.

Andre sucked in a sharp breath, pain capturing his face. “I need you to pull out the bullet,” he struggled to get out through a tense jaw.

My eyes widened. “What?”

“It pierced my heart. I won’t be able to move until it’s out. You have to hurry. If I heal, getting to it will be—” He grunted, the agony cutting him off.

“Messy, got it.” Not sure where to start, I looked at Ricky. He was so pale, I thought he might pass out at any moment.

“Hold it together,” I barked at him. “I don’t have time to wipe you off the floor, too. Do you hear me?”

“Hurry,” Andre bit out with a growl.

With shaky hands, I ripped open his shirt, the buttons popping off. In the center of his chest was a hole the size of a quarter. How in the world was I going to get the bullet out of that small thing?

When I saw the wound shrinking, my stomach flipped with worry. Damn vampires and their damn quick healing abilities. Scanning the floor for something to help, I spotted Andre’s dagger by his hip and snatched it.

“What are you going to do?” Ricky’s voice shook.

Andre’s eyes widened. “Blackwell…” he warned.

“Shut up and hold still.” As careful as I could manage, I pushed the blade into the wound. Unable to move or fight, he snarled at me. I ignored him and wrenched the dagger upward until the glint of something metal peeked through the blood.

“Fuuuuckkk,” Andre roared, squeezing his eyes shut.

Guess the vampire knew some vulgar words, too.

“Just a little more.” Using only the blade wasn’t working, so I plunged my finger into the wound, trying my best to not think about how warm, wet, and spongy his insides were. Working with the dagger, I was able to get a good enough grip on the bullet and wiggle it out.

The moment it left him, he gasped in relief, and I watched as his skin pulled itself together until nothing was left. Not even a blemish.

I tossed the bullet aside.

“Whoa,” Ricky said, stunned by what he’d just witnessed. If he had any lingering doubts about vampires existing, this surely was convincing enough.

Rubbing the spot, Andre sat up. “You could have warned me about using the dagger,” he said to me.

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” I replied. “It needed to come out.”

The two other vamps walked over to us, holding the very limp and unconscious body of Cornelius Jackson. His head hung down, swaying unnaturally with every movement. Broken neck.

“My Lord,” the one with the French accent began, “what would you like us to do with him?”

As Andre stood—with some difficulty, I might add—Ricky and I followed. “We need to get him back to The Grand. If he wakes in the car, shoot him through the heart.”

The two nodded, understanding the command, before dragging Cornelius out of the club.

Andre scanned the bloody scene around us and let out a long sigh. Piles of ashes were all that were left of Cornelius’s dead guards. “We need to go.”

“Yeah, the cops’ll be here any minute,” Ricky said. He tapped my arm and gestured toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“The cops aren’t what worry me,” Andre said as he picked up his dagger. “It won’t take long before the Omaris figure out what’s happened here.”

“You think our cover is blown?” I asked with a frown.

“There aren’t many ways to kill a vampire,” he said, his tone sharp. “SinceThe Angel’smissing and his men are dead, that means our timeline has been pushed up.”

“You could have just said yes,” I grumbled. I didn’t know what the sudden hostility was all about. It’s not like this was my fault.

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