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The light dawned. Cardenas had attended the planning meeting for the alliance of covens. “Maybe,” Nick whispered back. But what the hell was Cardenas’s motive for vengeance that Jinn referred to?
Graham tried to humble himself, backing off a bit. He seemed to be reminded of the slippery slope he was treading as he removed a small device from his jacket pocket. A mini tablet, it appeared. “I have something he’ll want. I assure you it will help achieve his aims.”
Tapping quickly on a couple of apps, Graham brought up something for his cohorts to see. Some sort of document, perhaps. Whatever it was couldn’t be seen from a distance, but the hunters began to chortle with glee.
“Fuckin’ A,” one hooted.
“No shit.”
“You’ve come through,” Jinn purred. “Send that to Prince Ivan’s e-mail right now, and copy me.”
Oh, Graham can’t be that stupid. But he was, and he completely missed the sly smirk Jinn exchanged with the hunters while his head was down, doing as Jinn ordered. When the e-mail was sent, the vampire raised his head.
“There. I’ve done as you asked. When will Ivan get this done so I can gain control of the coven? I have plans for the world alliance, as well.” Graham’s eyes gleamed at the prospect.
Jinn smiled. “Do you? That’s too bad, because unfortunately, your plans and my master’s are at complete odds.”
“What do you mean? We had a deal!”
“That’s what you believed.” Jinn laughed. “He was never going to give you control of the coven. He’s going to take it and destroy every man, woman, and child as revenge for the murder of his mate. You are no longer of use to him at all.”
Beside Nick, Tarron’s expression was thunderous.
“What?” Graham moved back, eyes widening. “I am of use! Haven’t I proven that?”
Without answering, Jinn held out a hand. A wisp of smoke floated from his upturned palm, thickening as it floated toward Graham.
“What are you doing?” the vampire choked out.
Those were his last words. The smoke coiled like rope around his throat and tightened. He clawed without effect as he fell to the ground, his fingers merely slipping through the horrible mist that was strangling the life out of him. His face turned red, then purple. His arms went limp at his sides and his eyes stared heavenward as his body shook violently. Then the shakes subsided to an occasional twitch.
And then nothing.
Jinn sauntered over and knelt by the body. Nick wondered what the bastard was doing as he grasped Graham’s shirt and ripped it open down the front. When Jinn held up a hand, claws lengthening to lethal razors, he was afraid he knew.
The creature plunged his talons into Graham’s chest, splitting his breastbone in two as though slicing butter. He then dug downward, and even from his position Nick could hear the awful slurping sounds the dead vampire’s flesh made as Jinn ripped Graham’s heart from his chest.
Eagerly, Jinn tore into the organ with his fangs and closed his eyes in ecstasy. The hunters had backed away all the way to their vehicle, revulsion on their faces, and as much as Nick hated them, he couldn’t blame them. Jinn ate every last bite of his snack, then wiped his mouth and hands on the tattered remains of the dead vampire’s shirt.
“Heart of the fallen,” he said in bliss. “Nothing on this plane or the next tastes better.”
Beside him, Micah made a soft gagging noise. His hand was over his mouth and he looked about two seconds from hurling all over the grass. Nick placed a hand on his shoulder to steady the wolf. The last thing they needed was to be discovered by a creature whose power quite possibly equaled Kalen’s.
Jinn scooped up Graham’s mini tablet and walked back to the vehicle. In seconds, they were driving away and had disappeared.
“What the fuck is that thing?” Tarron asked, his voice colored with horror.
“His name is Jinn,” Nick told the group, a cold chill of fear joining the anger. “At least, that’s what he told me when I met him at your party. He’s a demonic paranormal creature, not a Sorcerer. There’s not a drop of human blood in his body. He’s the equivalent of a trickster who wields powerful black magic, and for some reason he’s attached himself to Ivan.”
“Love is blind,” Micah muttered sarcastically. Under any other circumstances, that would’ve been funny.
“I don’t know another Ivan besides Ivan Cardenas, but I can’t understand why he’d be after me with such vengeance.” Tarron looked lost. “Revenge for the murder of his mate? In the entirety of my long existence, I’ve never to my knowledge killed a female.”
They all digested that for a few moments.
Then Micah said, “His mate could’ve been a man.”
And there it was. The flip of the light switch they needed. The missing motive. Tarron turned and locked eyes with Micah. “Mother of the gods. Carter Darrow.”
