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Peyton turned, ready to bolt for civilization. As the rattle of the train drew near, I swung my arm at the same moment he dove away from me. It wasn’t the clean swipe I’d have liked, but I didn’t need this to be perfect.
I just needed it to be.
He staggered, spinning back around to face me, and as he did a wash of his blood hit my face from the open wound in his neck.
“Shame. A clean cut would have killed you instantly.”
He teetered, stumbling in my direction with his mouth gaping open, wheezing in his attempt to make words. I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him close, ignoring the warm wetness down my front where his blood was soaking me through. I tipped his head back, and it went too far thanks to the new hinge in his neck. But I got a good angle at his open mouth. Placing my sword against my leg, I reached between his lips and got a firm grip on his remaining fang.
“I said I’d take this one day.”
I ripped it out, root and all, and released him, collecting my sword again.
As he teetered precariously, I slashed out again, and this time his head hit the ground, eyes glassy and empty of life. His body continued to sway, and I gave it one last kick so it fell back onto the track, jerking spasmodically on the electrified rail.
The train barreled around a corner, and I hopped back into the maintenance tunnel, taking a last look over my shoulder as the body of Alexandre Peyton turned to pulp beneath the belly of a Paris Metro train.
I shut the door and looked down at the wolf who seemed to be saying Damn, bitch with his eyes.
I wiped the sword off against the leg of my leather pants and slid it back into the scabbard.
“Things never end well when I take the subway,” I told him.
Chapter Sixteen
Mercy was after Grandmere.
It was so obvious now that it was in front of me. The postcard saying See you soon. She’d basically told me outright where she was going, and I’d thought it was a harmless mystery. Sure, the whole thing had seemed peculiar, but I hadn’t wanted to believe it might mean something nearly this sinister.
I had to go home, but I had one major problem standing between me and my adopted Canadian homeland.
Desmond.
I’d gone back to the lair, looking for the girl Peyton had chained in his room, but by the time I’d gotten to her it was already too late. Her limp body was curled up on the floor, pale and drained of blood. Someone had finished her off before running for it.
Another life I’d failed to save.
Desmond and I traveled back through the sewers where I’d grudgingly used the runoff water—at least I told myself it was runoff water—to rinse the worst of Peyton’s blood off me. We found an alternative exit through a different access station, which was likely where most of the other vampires had fled since we hadn’t bumped into any of them in our encounter with Peyton.
This new exit went directly up to the street, saving us from some unpleasant reactions on a subway platform. I hadn’t seen anyone else with big dogs during our time wandering Paris, and Desmond didn’t look like a dog. He looked like a wolf.
We took side streets wherever possible to get back to the hotel where I was able to get him in the back way to our private elevator. The perks of wealth could sometimes help in unexpected ways.
But I couldn’t buy myself out of this situation.
I sat on the couch in our suite and stared at the furry incarnation of my main squeeze, and he stared back, his tongue lolling out happily.
“Think you could maybe change back into human form? That’d be super.”
He shook his head.
Awesome.
If he’d changed forms willingly, he should be able to force himself back into a man. It would hurt and he’d be wobbly, but he’d also be on two legs instead of four, and I’d be able to put him on a plane with me. That he was unable to shift meant someone had done this to him against his will, which was a hell of a feat.
The only time I’d ever changed fully into a wolf it was the full moon and I was in the presence of not one but two werewolf kings. A wolf can’t resist the transformation when in the presence of their king, and my wolf recognized Lucas as her king. The shift had been almost painless it was so natural.
