Despite knowing the bullet couldn’t kill me, my body still freaked out as pain overrode reason. My heart pumped like a piston in overdrive. Cold, clammy sweat covered my skin. I panted and grabbed at my chest.
A second of panic passed before I realized I was able to move again. The alloy used to make my special apple bullets contained brass, which dampened the spell. It wasn’t enough to outright cancel the spell, though, so each movement was like wading through quicksand. Thank the goddess I’d fed so recently. If this had happened before I replenished my blood, I’d probably have passed out for a couple of hours.
Despite the red haze of pain, I knew I didn’t have the luxury of writhing around. Pretty soon, Damara would start to wonder why I hadn’t combusted. I could sense her standing over me, enjoying the pain she’d inflicted. Somewhere nearby, Stryx screeched, clearly agitated as he flew away. Reaching into my boot without her noticing took effort—more effort with the dampened spell making my movements sluggish. But soon enough I gripped the handle in my fist.
Severing her Achilles tendon was like slicing through a rubber band. Before she realized what happened, her leg collapsed out from under her. My muscles screamed with exertion, but I managed to grab her ruined ankle and squeeze. She screamed and writhed against the pain.
The urge to kill was strong. I wanted to punish this little bitch for all the problems she’d caused me. I wanted to make her understand that no one f**ked with me and lived to brag about it. But I leashed the primal need in favor of reason. Killing her now would be a mistake. She had information I needed. And I’d already learned the hard way that killing first and asking questions later didn’t work for me anymore.
I left her writhing on the ground and felt around the dark tunnel for the spent shell casing. While the bullet itself had brass in the alloy, the casing itself was pure brass. It was my only option for ensuring Damara couldn’t use magic against me while I got my answers.
Finally, my fingers closed around the shell. I crushed the metal in my fist until it was a small clump instead of a cylinder. Holding the brass helped release the lingering spell, quickening my movements. I climbed on top of the screaming mage and pinned her hands under my knees. Then I shoved the brass into her gaping mouth. She sputtered and choked, but I pinched her nose and covered her mouth. Her eyes widened in panic. Her face went blue and then green before she finally swallowed.
I released her and fell back on my ass. My breath heaved in and out, each labored breath bringing a shock of pain in my chest. Tears streaked Damara’s face, but her eyes shone with hatred instead of fear. I didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. She was lucky I’d let her live—for now.
I grabbed the cell out of my pocket and called Slade. I gave him a Cliffs Notes version of the situation and told him where to meet me. “I’ll be there in ten,” Slade said before disconnecting.
I slapped the phone closed and shoved it in my pocket. Behind me, the sounds of flapping wings signaled Stryx’s departure. Stupid owl.
“Now,” I said, jerking Damara off the ground. She whimpered and limped against the pain in her ankle. I shoved her forward, holding her hands behind her. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about the Caste of Nod.”
31
Thirty minutes later, Slade pulled the BMW up to a warehouse in a seedy section of the city. A sign on the building read “Romulus Imports.” Slade and I had debated where to conduct the interrogation when he picked us up. My vote had been Vein, but he’d vetoed that idea, claiming the bar wasn’t private enough. So he’d called in a favor from Michael Romulus, who offered the use of one of his warehouses.
The bay door opened, and Michael waved at Slade to pull the car into the loading area. I sat in the back with my gun nuzzled up against Damara’s ribs. She’d been quiet the entire ride, but when she saw the four massive werewolves waiting inside the warehouse, she tensed for flight.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said.
Slade turned off the engine and exited. He opened the back door and pulled Damara out, leaving me to follow. I shook Michael’s hand. “Thanks for this,” I said.
He nodded, his eyes on Damara. “Anything you need.”
“Where should we do this?” I asked.
“Follow me,” Michael said, motioning for Slade to bring Damara along. He led us into a storeroom off the main warehouse area. Rex came forward with a pair of brass cuffs and made quick work of binding the mage into a chair. Damara’s chin was high during the entire process. I’d give her points for bravery, but I didn’t expect it would last long.
“You can torture me all you want,” she said. “I’m not telling you shit.”
I approached her slowly, letting her wonder what I had in store for her. Despite her brave front, her body trembled so hard the chair’s legs squeaked against the concrete floor. “I already know you’re working for the Caste. I also know you summoned Eurynome and tried to have Giguhl killed in Slade’s club.”
Beside me, Slade hissed and flashed his fangs at the mage. Her eyes widened.
“I also know,” I continued, “that you called the Lone Wolves on my ass in the park that night.”
A low growl came from behind me. Damara cowered in the chair.
“It’s a full moon tonight, right, Michael?” I asked, my eyes still on the mage.
“Yep,” he said.
“What do you guys normally do to celebrate?” I asked in a casual tone.
He came to stand next to me, looming over Damara with his arms crossed. “We all change into our wolf forms at midnight and then have a big hunt.”
I looked at him. “Have you ever hunted a mage?”
He shrugged, playing along. “No, but we’d be willing to make an exception in this case.” He looked around at his buddies. “Right, boys?”
Four growls filled the small room. Even though I knew they were playing it up to help me out, the sound made the hair on my arms prickle.
Damara’s eyes widened as she looked around the room. A trickle of sweat rolled down from her temple. “You’re bluffing.”
I smiled. “You willing to wait an hour for these guys to change and prove you wrong?”
She swallowed convulsively. “But I didn’t do anything to you,” she whined to Michael.
He leaned down into her face. “You put my pack in danger.” He sniffed her hair.
She shied away. “Wh-what are you doing?”