Bound by Flames
Page 25
He didn’t sound like he felt helpless in the least. I pursed my lips and considered the question, letting my gaze sweep over him. Nothing interrupted my view, either, since he was naked. I’d long ago learned that weapons could be stored in various clothing items, but bare skin hid nothing.
Except now, it was also very distracting. The vampire’s body was a pale, beautiful expanse of muscle, bone, and lean, elegant lines, all topped off by a gorgeous face with cheekbones so finely chiseled they could cut butter. Clothed or unclothed, the vampire was stunning, something he was obviously aware of. Those glowing green eyes looked into mine with a knowing stare.
“Need me to repeat the question?” he asked with a hint of wickedness.
I strove for nonchalance. “Who do you work for?”
His grin widened, letting me know my aloof act wasn’t as convincing as I’d meant it to be. He even stretched as much as the chains allowed, his muscles rippling like waves on a pond.
“No one.”
“Liar.” I pulled out a silver knife and traced its tip lightly down his chest, not breaking his skin, just leaving a faint pink line that faded in seconds. Vampires might be able to heal with lightning quickness, but silver through the heart was lethal. Only a few inches of bone and muscle stood between this vampire’s heart and my blade.
He glanced at the path my knife had traced. “Is that supposed to frighten me?”
I pretended to consider the question. “Well, I’ve cut a bloody swath through the undead world ever since I was sixteen. Even earned myself the nickname of the Red Reaper, so if I’ve got a knife next to your heart, then yes, you should be afraid.”
His expression was still amused. “Right nasty wench you sound like, but I wager I could get free and have you on your back before you could stop me.”
Cocky bastard. “Talk is cheap. Prove it.”
His legs flashed out, knocking me off-balance. I sprang forward at once, but a hard, cool body flattened me to the cave floor in the next instant. An iron grip closed around my wrist, preventing me from raising the knife.
“Always pride before a fall,” he murmured in satisfaction.
ONE GRAVE AT A TIME
Cat’s “gift” from New Orleans’s voodoo queen just keeps on giving, and now a personal favor has led to doing battle against a villainous spirit. But how do you send a killer to the grave when he’s already dead?
“Every time I think I know all there is to know about Cat and Bones, Ms. Frost creates new layers of depth. . . . Prepare yourself for blood and gore galore, interspersed with tons of dark, witty humor, fierce fighting, and one-of-a-kind romance.”
Joyfully Reviewed
“We summon you into our presence. Heed our call, Heinrich Kramer. Come to us now. We summon through the veil the spirit of Heinrich Kramer—”
Dexter let out a sharp noise that was part whine, part bark. Tyler quit speaking. I tensed, feeling the grate of invisible icicles across my skin again. Bones’s gaze narrowed at a point over my right shoulder. Slowly, I turned my head in that direction.
All I saw was a swirl of darkness before the Ouija board flew across the room—and the point of the little wooden planchette buried in Tyler’s throat.
I sprang up and tried to grab Tyler, only to be knocked backward like I’d been hit with a sledgehammer. Stunned, it took me a second to register that I was pinned to the wall by the desk, that dark cloud on the other side of it.
The ghost had successfully managed to use the desk as a weapon against me. If it hadn’t been still jabbed in my stomach, I wouldn’t even have believed it.
Bones threw the desk aside before I could, flinging it so hard that it split down the center when it hit the other wall. Dexter barked and jumped around, trying to bite the charcoal-colored cloud that was forming into the shape of a tall man. Tyler made a horrible gurgling noise, clutching his throat. Blood leaked out between his fingers.
“Bones, fix him. I’ll deal with this asshole.”
Dexter’s barks drowned out the sounds Tyler made as Bones slashed his palm with his fangs, then slapped it over Tyler’s mouth, ripping out the planchette at the same time.
Pieces of the desk suddenly became missiles that pelted the three of us. Bones spun around to take their brunt, shielding Tyler, while I jumped to cover the dog. A pained yelp let me know at least one had nailed Dexter before I got to him. Tyler’s gurgles became wrenching coughs.
“Boy, did you make a colossal fucking mistake,” I snarled, grabbing a piece of the ruined desk. Then I stood up, still blocking the dog from any more objects the ghost could lob at him. He’d materialized enough for me to see white hair swirling around a craggy, wrinkled face. The ghost hadn’t been young when he died, but the shoulders underneath his dark tunic weren’t bowed from age. They were squared in arrogance, and the green eyes boring into mine held nothing but contempt.
“Hure,” the ghost muttered before thrusting his hand into my neck and squeezing like he was about to choke me. I felt a stronger than normal pins-and-needles sensation but didn’t flinch. If this schmuck thought to terrify me with a cheap parlor trick like that, wait until he saw my first abracadabra.
“Heinrich Kramer?” I asked almost as an afterthought. Didn’t matter if it wasn’t him, he would regret what he did, but I wanted to know whose ass I was about to kick.
UP FROM THE GRAVE
Cat and Bones should have known better than to relax their guard. A rogue CIA agent is involved in horrifying secret activities that threaten to cause an all-out war between humans and the undead. As Cat and Bones race against time to save their friends from a fate worse than death, their lives—and those of everyone they hold dear—will be hovering on the edge of the grave.
“Featuring superior writing as well as a thoughtfully structured plot, Cat and Bones’s final adventure is appropriately splendid and satisfying.”
Publishers Weekly (Starred Review)
“I want their bodies.”
Madigan showed more surprise than he had when I lunged at him. “What?”
“Their bodies,” Bones repeated, his tone hardening. “Now.”
“Why? You didn’t even like Tate,” Madigan muttered.
My murderous haze cleared. He was stalling, which meant in all likelihood, he was lying about their deaths. I tapped Bones’s arm. He released me, but one hand remained on my waist.
“My feelings are irrelevant,” Bones answered. “I sired them so they’re mine, and if they’re dead, then you have no further use for them.”
“What possible use would you have?” Madigan demanded.
A dark brow rose. “Not your concern. I’m waiting.”
“Then it’s a good thing you don’t age,” Madigan snapped as he rose from his chair. “Their bodies were cremated and their ashes disposed of, so there’s nothing left to give you.”
If Madigan wanted us to believe they were dead, then they must be in serious trouble. Even if Madigan wasn’t behind it, he clearly intended to leave them to their fates.
I wasn’t about to.
Something in my stare must have alarmed him because he glanced left and right before flinging a hand in Bones’s direction.
“If you’re not intending to let her complete her term of service, then both of you can get out. Before I have her jailed for dereliction of duty, desertion, and trying to attack me.”
I expected Bones to tell him where to go, which was why I was stunned when he merely nodded.
“Until next time.”
“What?” I burst out. “We’re not leaving without more answers!”
His hand tightened on my waist.
“We are, Kitten. There’s nothing for us here.”
I glared at Bones before turning my attention to the thin, older man. Madigan’s face had paled, but underneath the heavy scent of cologne, he didn’t smell like fear. Instead, his blue gaze was defiant. Almost . . . daring.
Once more, Bones’s grip tightened. Something else was going on. I didn’t know what, but I trus
ted Bones enough not to grab Madigan and start biting the truth out of him like I wanted to. Instead, I smiled enough to bare my fangs.
“Sorry, but I don’t think you and I would have a healthy working relationship, so I’ll have to decline the job offer.”
Multiple footsteps sounded in the hall. Moments later, heavily armed, helmeted guards appeared in the doorway. At some point, Madigan must have pushed a silent alarm—an upgrade he’d installed since my previous visit to his office.
“Get out,” Madigan repeated.
I didn’t bother with any threats, but the single look I gave him said that this wasn’t over.
About the Author
JEANIENE FROST is the New York Times, USA Today, and internationally bestselling author of the Night Huntress series and the Night Huntress World novels. To date, foreign rights for her novels have sold to nineteen different countries. Jeaniene lives in North Carolina with her husband, Matthew, who long ago accepted that she rarely cooks and always sleeps in on the weekends. Aside from writing, Jeaniene enjoys reading, poetry, watching movies with her husband, exploring old cemeteries, spelunking and traveling—by car. Airplanes, children, and cookbooks frighten her.
To know more about Jeaniene, please visit her website
at www.jeanienefrost.com.
www.avonromance.com www.facebook.com/avonromance
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By Jeaniene Frost
BOUND BY FLAMES
UP FROM THE GRAVE
TWICE TEMPTED
ONCE BURNED
ONE GRAVE AT A TIME
THIS SIDE OF THE GRAVE
ETERNAL KISS OF DARKNESS
FIRST DROP OF CRIMSON
DESTINED FOR AN EARLY GRAVE
AT GRAVE’S END
ONE FOOT IN THE GRAVE
HALFWAY TO THE GRAVE
Also Available
THE BEAUTIFUL ASHES
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpts from Halfway to the Grave; One Foot in the Grave; At Grave’s End; Destined for an Early Grave; This Side of the Grave; One Grave at a Time; Up From the Grave copyright © 2007, 2008, 2009, 2011, 2014 by Jeaniene Frost.
BOUND BY FLAMES. Copyright © 2015 by Jeaniene Frost. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition FEBRUARY 2015 ISBN: 9780062075826
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062076083
FIRST EDITION
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