BROKEN BLADE (12 page)

I didn’t care. Whirling around, I glared at him. “One
fucking
fight. You said you loved me and that’s how you showed it?”

There was even more rage inside me than I had realized and now it was ready to explode out.

He dodged and I didn’t even realize why until a knife was vibrating in the wall behind him.

Missed
—

I’d missed…

Useless waste,
an ugly, hated voice whispered from the depths of my memory. “Shut
up
!” I screamed. I reached out for something else—the only thing that came to hand was the first aid kit, but I hurled it too. It smashed into his chest, the box a ruined mess, the contents spilling out all over the floor. Before I could grab something else, Damon caught my wrists.

“Kit,” he whispered. “Stop…just stop.”

I jerked back away from him, but he didn’t let go. “Get the fuck off me.”

But he didn’t even seem to hear me. He let go of my wrists and shoved his hands into my hair, tugging my face back and forcing me to look at him. His eyes, glowing and burning, stared down at me. “Kit…” His voice came in hard, uneven pants, like he’d just run a hundred miles. “Kit, I never gave
anybody
any message.”

I stared at him and for a moment, the words just didn’t connect.

And then, abruptly…they did.

Chapter Eight

Sam entered Damon’s chambers looking just as cocky as she had the first day I’d met her.

Just as cocky, but not quite so elegant with it. That first time, she’d been wearing all black. Black pants that clung to her like they’d been painted on her lush body. A leather corset.

Her long dark hair was pulled back in the same ponytail, leaving the flawless lines of her face unframed.

But instead of the Dominatrix-in-training garb, she was wearing the kind of clinging cotton pants I’d wear to work out in, and a close-fitting black shirt that looked like it was both sport bra and tank in one.

She’d healed from her sparring session earlier. That was nice. I wanted to bloody her again, all by myself.

I never gave anybody any message
,

Bloody her? Screw that. I wanted to take her damned head off.

Damon was standing just a few feet away from me and the heated energy I’d felt from him all this time was gone, sucked inside him. I felt nothing—he was giving off about as much as Chang did. That in and of itself was scary.

Sam stood a few feet away, flicking a bored look at me before acknowledging Damon. The look that danced in her eyes was one I recognized. I’d seen it before. Damon was hot. Women wanted him. Some of the men did. But most people tried to least cover it or be a little more discreet.

She didn’t, although she did do the nice, submissive little cat thing, clasping her hands in front of her and lowering her head a bit. If I had my blade…

“Want to tell me why you decided it was okay for you to speak for me, Sam?” Damon asked, his voice all silky menace and deadly promise. I knew that tone. If she was smart, she’d get scared. Fast. Like as in yesterday.

“Sir?”

I knew how swift he was. I’d seen evidence of it. But it still caught me by surprise—especially when the threat wasn’t aimed at me. I sensed the blur of movement, but that was the only warning I had.

And to be honest, I was more concerned about Sam. Ugly hate glittered in her eyes and I was ready to move, to act or react. . I didn’t have my bow. But I had my gun—

No.

No, I didn’t.

Stunned, I saw my Desert Eagle in Damon’s hand. And it looked a hell of a lot more at home in his than mine.

How in the hell—?

Swallowing, I followed the line of his aim and saw that it was leveled at Sam’s gut.

She was no longer staring at me with hate. She was watching him. And that cocky-ass attitude was gone. Caution showed in her eyes, finally. “Damon, I—”

“It’s not Damon to you,” he said. “It’s sir, it’s Alpha. It’s anything but Damon. Now I asked a question and if you don’t answer it, I pull the trigger. If I know anything about Kit, she’s loaded this with silver, so when I empty it into your belly, it’s going to hurt.”

She went white. “Alpha, I was only trying to help. I heard you talking to Chang and I—”

He fired and she went down with an eerie, inhuman scream. The scent of her blood flooded the air.

“I’m asking again,” Damon said, his voice flat. “And I’m now pissed off that you think you’ve got the right to listen in when I speak with my adviser.”

“I just overhead you tell him you didn’t want to talk about the silly bitch,” Sam said, her voice a pathetic whine. She writhed on the floor and slammed her head against it as the poison ate its way through her system.

Damon hadn’t been wrong. The Eagle had been loaded with silver-wrapped ammo. She was lucky I hadn’t loaded it with magically charged bullets. I’d considered it but thought it might be overkill.

He studied her for a minute and then, quicker than a snake, shoved his free hand against her belly, pressed against the open wound. She screamed and reached down, clutching at his hand. Bile churned in my throat, but I said nothing.

“Please,” she whimpered. “Please...call Ella, please, Da...Alpha, please call Ella.”

“No. And if you call Kit one more name, I’m going to rip your throat out. You can bleed to death for all I care,” he said. He added more weight—I could see the muscles bulging in his arm as he applied pressure.

She puked. The rancid, foul odor wrapped around us, adding to the miasma of blood, fear, pain. The stench triggered memories and I had to dig my nails into my palm to stay grounded.
Focus...just focus, Kit
...

Scent is a strong trigger and I’d spent a lot of time wrapped in the stink of my own blood, fear and pain. But I wasn’t letting this shove me back there.

As her retching passed, Sam moaned. “I need Ella...get this silver out me, Alpha...please—” She shrieked and spasmed.

A wet, meaty sound filled the air. Closing my eyes, I said, “Damon, if you plan on torturing her, can you do it later?”

“Be quiet, Kit.” His voice was impassive. “She violated my trust. She lied. Stepping out of line like that endangers the pack—Sam’s a soldier, she knows that. She endangered the pack when she decided she’d speak for me.”

Slowly, he lifted his head and stared at me. “And
fuck
all of that—she endangered
you
.” He shifted his attention back to her and twisted his wrist. Sam screamed. “I want to know why.”

I forced myself to watch. I wasn’t going to be stupid enough to blame myself for this���I had enough shit in my head and I didn’t need to add to it, but this was all about me. And Damon.

Crossing the floor, I stood beside them, keeping my boots out of the ever-spreading pool of blood. “I already know the damn answer, Damon.” I held out my hand for the gun. He didn’t need it to hurt her and I’d rather he not use it for whatever else he had planned. He slid me a look and then turned it over. I stayed out of her reach. Wounded or not, she was still a shifter and faster, stronger than me.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Damon, she wants in your pants. How much that has to do with this, I don’t know. But she also hates me.” I stared at Sam, saw the way her energy flickered around her. “Somehow she heard we’d broken up and she wanted to make sure it stayed that way, so when I called, she took her shot.”

“I want the answer from her,” Damon said quietly.

“And she’s going to lay there, whining like a little girl and begging for help,” I pointed out. I eyed the nasty mess of her belly. “Are you going to call her a healer?”

“No.” He rose to his feet, blood dripping from one hand. “If I’d talked to you—”

The muscles in his arms bulged and I could all but taste the violence coming off him. “No
if
s, Damon. It’s already done.”

Staring down at Sam’s face, I wondered if she realized. And in the depths of her eyes, I saw the answer. She realized what a difference it might have made. And she didn’t care. And worse, I saw the
hatred
there…this woman would see me dead if she could.

“You went through and cleaned house, Damon, but you missed some of the dirt,” I said quietly. “This bitch is evil. I wouldn’t trust her at my back.”

“A fact I’ve figured out myself.” A grim, ugly smile curled his lips as he stared down at her. “She’s going to really regret that fact in a while. She’ll be begging for a quick death.”

I eyed him narrowly and then looked back down at Sam.

He tried to stop me, but by the time he realized what I was going to do, I’d already pulled the trigger. He’s fast, but it doesn’t take much time for me to aim and squeeze.

Sam’s scream cut off abruptly and I looked up and met his gaze. I suppose I could have let him kill her. Could have let him torture her. But now, every time I thought about the fact that her lie might have contributed to my hell up in the mountains, I could look back at this.

It was some small piece of myself that I’d taken back. Maybe not a big piece, but a piece nonetheless.

* * * *

As Damon’s people came inside to deal with the body, I left the main room. It didn’t occur to me to ask if it was okay as I pushed through the door that led to his private area. Maybe that should tell me something; I don’t know. Nobody had access to his personal space.

Chang didn’t even come through this door.

But I wasn’t staying out there, smelling death.

In the bathroom, I turned on the faucet, deliberately keeping my attention away from the shower. Memories danced in the back of my mind, but they’d have to come out to play some other time.

I had to get the information I needed and get the hell out of here.

Soon.

A whisper of air brushed across my skin as I cupped my hands and splashed water over my face.

It was still dripping down my cheeks and neck when I lifted my head and saw him standing behind me. He’d already changed clothes and washed up. Violence and temper all but clung to him.

His eyes rested on the tattoo on my neck and my skin burned. “Is it done?”

Looking down at the colorful lines and images, I studied it.

“It’s done.”

He gave a short nod and then moved away. I breathed a little easier when he wasn’t so close. The heat of him didn’t beat against me so strongly and I didn’t have the struggle raging so hard inside me—where part of me wanted to just fling myself against him even as the rest of me wanted to get away. As far away as I could, as fast as I could.

I felt the heat of his gaze burning into me as I dried my hands and face off. Without looking at him, I said, “If you expect an apology from me over Sam, you’re going to wait a long time.”

“She was mine to handle.”

I flicked him a glance. “Yours to handle…maybe. But I’m the one who laid in her own waste and blood in the mountains, and if she’d minded her own business…?” I shrugged. “I figured she owed me the blood more than you.”

The storm clouds in his eyes turned nearly black. “If you wanted blood from her, you should have done more than just shoot her.”

“I didn’t need more.” I’d lived through torture. I’d never be able to dish it out now. Even if Jude was put in front of me, completely helpless, I don’t know if I’d be able to torture him—kill him, oh, yes. My hands trembled a little as I hung the towel back up, smoothing it down so that it hung precisely centered on the sculpted metal bar. Unable to avoid it any longer, I turned around and looked at Damon. “It’s your turn now. I need that kid’s name.”

He stared at me, long seconds ticking away as he said nothing, just watching me.

The very air in the room seemed to weigh down on us as I waited for a response. Then finally, he dipped his head in a slow nod. “Chang says Doyle would know the number, right?”

The tension slowly melted away. I cleared my throat and hooked my thumbs in my pockets to keep from fidgeting. “That’s what he told me.”

Damon shoved away from the wall, prowling the bathroom. Unable to look away, I stared at him and then my heart slammed against my ribs hard as he stopped by the shower, resting one hand against the glass wall.

Why did he have to stop
there
? By the damn shower.

Jerking my attention away, I busied myself with the toes of my boots. Everybody else found them so damned fascinating. Maybe I’d just see if I couldn’t find what it was that was so interesting.

“I’ll talk to the kid, then. Once I have the information, I’ll call you, set up the time to meet at your office.”

Nodding, I twisted the towel and then grimaced as it rubbed against my bandaged palm. I needed to brush up on my knife skills again. I had to be doing something with my hands—being still just wasn’t something that came naturally. “There might be a problem with the office. If there is—”

“There’s not going to be.”

Eyes narrowed, I slid him a glance.

He had that implacable
I-know-what-in-the-hell-I’m-talking-about
tone to his voice. Damon was an arrogant son of a bitch, but he only had that tone when he was absolutely sure about things. He didn’t do
wrong
very well. So he didn’t use that
I’m-right
tone unless he was, in fact, right.

“And how are you so certain of that?” I asked him.

“I just am.” He still wasn’t looking at me and I knew he wasn’t going to explain anything any further than that.

My belly churned.

“Damon, if you’ve been paying my rent, I’m going to bloody you.”

He slid me a dark look. “Go ahead.” Shoving away from the shower, he came closer. Violence, danger and anger radiated from him and fear pulsed inside me, despite the fact that I
knew
, deep inside, that he wouldn’t hurt me. Damon was one of the few people who
was
safe.

Too bad my body didn’t get that message.

He reached up and my breath froze in my lungs as he slid a hand inside my vest. The back of his hand brushed against my breast and the black band of terror grabbed me, held tight.