Page 21 of The Hawk and the Nightingale

Marek screamed as his body shook, then he was silent.

Hawk cut the power to the spotlight, then he scrambled down the scaffolding and onto the dance floor. He found Amalie lying on her side in a pool of foam. Blood from the long gashes in her skin had tinted the foam pink, and her clothes were shredded down to rags. Gingerly, Hawk gathered her in his arms.

“Careful,” he said when she tried to push herself up. “Give yourself a minute. He’s dead.”

“Doubtful,” Amalie whispered. “But it’s a nice thought.”

“He was ripping you apart,” Hawk said.

“Not me, my clothes. Marek wanted the garnet, but he didn’t find it.” Hawk glanced at her breast, since the last he knew the garnet was hidden in her bra. Amalie smiled, and said, “It’s not here. I made Iveta take it with her.”

“My brilliant one.” Hawk pushed the damp hair back from her forehead. “Does this mean Iveta’s now in charge of the entire clan?”

“When wasn’t she?” Amalie countered. “Come on. We need to assess the state of the warlord.” Hawk helped Amalie up, groaning as he felt his own injuries. She cast a sharp glance toward him, but he waved it away. “Is the power off?” she asked, her foot hovering above the metal floor.

“Yes.” Leaning on each other, they looked into the DJ booth. Marek lay sprawled across the floor, the skin on his face and neck bloody and charred. “You really think he’ll survive this?”

“As a species we’re very hard to kill. However, he won’t be going anywhere for a while.”

“What of his followers?”

“If they’re not here now, they’re not coming until after dark. How long until sunset?”

Hawk checked his watch. “Four hours.”

“Then we have time.” Amalie led Hawk back to the infirmary located in the rear of the club. Once they were inside the room she ordered him to sit on the cot, and take off his shirt.

“Checking me for wounds?” he asked, as she stroked her hands across his arms and back.

“Marek threw you very far,” she replied. “You might have fractures.”

“When he threw me, his hand wasn’t on me,” Hawk said. “He never touched me.”

“No, he didn’t.” When Hawk’s brows pinched, she winked at him. “Patience. I can’t tell you all of our secrets, not right away. Don’t you want a woman with some mystery?” she added, then she pulled off the remains of her sweater and straddled his waist.

“Now?” Despite his words, he settled his hands on her hips. “But you’re hurt.”

“As are you.” Amalie slashed her nails across the thin skin under her throat. When the blood welled to the surface, she said, “Drink.”

“No,” he protested, leaning away. “You need your strength.”

“I need your strength, too.” When he remained still, mesmerized by thick red droplets, she said, “I’m not trying to turn you. I’d never do that, not unless you wanted it, and even then I’d try to convince you to remain mortal.”

“It’s not that,” he said, gutted that she thought he’d been wary of her. “I was thinking the blood looks like a ruby necklace.” He cocked his head to the side. “Is that why your leaders wear a blood red garnet?”

She smiled, and all but shoved his face into her breast. “Look at you, divining all my secrets on your own. Now drink, so you’ll live to figure out a few more.”

Chapter Sixteen

Amalie - Prague, Present Day

After they’d taken the time to rest and clean up as well as they could, talk turned to what should be done about Marek.

“As much as it would make my life easier, we shouldn’t kill him,” Amalie said. They’d raided Hawk’s office for clothes, and she was wearing one of his dress shirts over the remains of her jeans. The sleeves were rolled up past the elbows, and the hem of the shirt almost reached her knees. “I need him alive so I can send a message to his camp.”

“A corpse sends a rather specific message.” Hawk stood over Marek’s nearly dead form with his arms crossed over his chest and his stance wide. Amalie didn’t say as much, but in that pose Hawk reminded her of the vampire hunters from the old days. “He tried to kill you. Right in front of me, he tried to rip you apart. Why should he get to live?”

“Because his failure, coupled with his survival, will be humiliating, and for Marek humiliation is a fate worse than death.” Amalie placed her hands on Hawk’s chest. “It will also prove, beyond any doubt, that I remain more powerful than Marek. Only Varushka could have hurt Marek as badly as this, and she’s long since dead.”

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