Home > Destined for an Early Grave (Night Huntress #4)(47)

Destined for an Early Grave (Night Huntress #4)(47)
Author: Jeaniene Frost

"Hello, Commander," a male voice said.

I smiled still with my eyes closed. "Cooper, I'd say nice to see you, but give me a minute."

He grunted, which was his version of a belly laugh, and soon I was inside the facility.

"You can open your eyes now," Cooper said.

His familiar face was the first thing I saw, dark-skinned and with hair even shorter than Tate's. I gave him a brief hug, which seemed to surprise him, but he was smiling when I let go.

"Missed you, freak," he said, still with a smile.

I laughed even though it was hoarse. "You too, Coop. What's the news?"

"Geri's chopper arrived thirty minutes ago. The prisoner was secured and awake. Ian is here. He's been questioning the prisoner."

That made me smile for real. I'd had Ian flown here because he was a cold-blooded bastard - and right now, I liked that about him.

"You can stay here or come with me, it's up to you," I said to Vlad.

"I'll come," he replied, giving Fabian, who'd just floated up, a cursory glance. The ghost hovered over the ground next to Cooper, who couldn't see him because he was human.

"Fabian, you've been incredible," I said. "No matter what, I'll take care of you. You'll always have a place to stay."

"Thank you," he said, brushing his hand through mine in his form of affection. "I'm sorry, Cat."

He didn't need to say what for. That was obvious.

My smile turned brittle. "Whoever said ignorance was bliss was shortsighted, if you ask me. But what's done is done, and now I have an acquaintance to renew."

The ghost looked momentarily hopeful. "Bones?"

"No. The little bitch inside, and you might not want to follow me for this one. It's going to get ugly."

I didn't have to tell him twice. In a whirl, Fabian vanished. Neat trick. Sucked to have to be a phantom to do it.

My uncle waited for me farther inside the hallway. He looked...bad.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, instantly worried. Had Bones's plane been tailed, or attacked, or worse?

"No." He coughed. "I just have a cold."

"Oh." I gave him a hug hello. It surprised me when he squeezed back and held on. We weren't a cuddly family.

Vlad sniffed the air. "A cold?"

Don let me go and gave him an annoyed look. "That's right. Don't concern yourself. I'm not contagious to your kind."

He said it harshly. Jeez, maybe Don really did feel like shit. My uncle wasn't normally so surly, even though vampires weren't his favorite group of people.

Vlad looked him up and down and shrugged.

Don went right to business. It was his defining characteristic. "I just came from the downstairs cell. The prisoner hasn't been very forthcoming about her role in this."

"Then it's time for me to see my old friend."

Chapter Twenty-Two

CANNELLE DIDN'T APPEAR TO HAVE AGED A day in the twelve years since I'd seen her. In fact, only her reddish brown hair was different with its new, shorter length. I guessed it was where she got her name. Cannelle. French for cinnamon.

She sat on a steel bench that took up an entire wall in the square, boxlike space. Cannelle wasn't restrained, since Ian and Geri were in the room with her. Even if by some miracle she got past them, there were still three more guards outside the door. Her eye was black, and blood dripped from her mouth and temple, but she wasn't cowed.

When I walked in, she blinked, then laughed.

"Bonjour, Catherine! It's been a long time. You finally look like a woman. I am very surprised."

I felt a nasty grin pull my lips. "Bonjour yourself, Cannelle. Yep, I grew tits and ass and a whole lot more. What a difference a dozen years makes, huh?"

She went right for the throat. "I must compliment you on your lover, Bones. Qu'un animal, non? In this instance, his reputation was...not gracious enough."

Bitch. I wanted to rip the smirk right off her face.

"Too bad he didn't seem bowled over by your bedroom skills. I mean, the fact that you couldn't get him to leave the city for a menage a cinq doesn't speak well, does it?"

Ian chuckled with malevolent humor. "Oh, you two ladies have a history, do you? You might want to start speaking now, poppet. I've been gentle with you, but Cat has a wicked temper. She'll likely kill you before I can reason with her."

"Her?" Cannelle flicked her finger contemptuously at me. "She's a child."

Boy, did she pick the wrong girl in the wrong mood.

"Hand me that knife, Ian."

He passed it over, his turquoise eyes sparkling. Geri looked a little nervous. Cannelle didn't even blink.

"You won't kill me, Catherine. You play the hard woman, but I still see a little girl before me."

Ian regarded Cannelle with amazement. "She's unhinged."

"No, she's just remembering who I used to be. Gregor made that mistake also, at first."

I smiled at Cannelle again while twirling the knife from one hand to the other. Her eyes followed the movement, and for the first time, she looked uncertain.

"Remember that big bad bitch Gregor didn't want me turning into? Well, it happened. Now, I'm in a hurry, so here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to slam this knife through your hand, and the only way you'll stop me is by talking, so please. Please. Don't talk."

She didn't believe me. When Ian held Cannelle's wrist to the bench, forcing her hand flat, she was still giving me that I-dare-you glare. When I held the knife over her hand, giving her one last chance to talk, she still thought I was bluffing. Only after I slammed the blade into her hand between her wrist and her fingers, jerking the blade in a twist, did she get the picture.

And couldn't stop screaming.

"I know that hurts," I remarked. "My father did that to my wrist last year, and damn, it was painful. Crippling, too. When I yanked the blade out, all my tendons were severed. I needed vampire blood to heal the damage. You will, too, Cannelle, or you'll never use this hand again. So you can talk, and a dab of vampire blood'll have you good as new. Or don't talk, and I cripple your right hand next."

"Fix it! Fix it!"

"You'll tell us what we want to know?"

"Oui!"

I sighed and yanked the knife out. "Ian?"

Cannelle was still screaming when Ian sliced his palm and cupped it over her mouth.

"Quit wailing and swallow."

She gulped at his hand. In seconds, her bleeding stopped, and the wound in her hand disappeared.

Geri couldn't tear her eyes away from Cannelle's mending hand. She shivered and rubbed her own hands together as if in reflex. I was more concerned with Cannelle's face. Judging whether or not she'd go back on her word.

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