Once Bitten (Shadow Guild: The Rebel #1)(56)
“Tell me.” The Devil’s words were cold enough to freeze lava.
“The liver,” the murderer said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I was told to. Gave it to the creepy bloke, along with the woman.”
“What was the woman’s name?” I asked.
“Don’t know. Some lady about forty years old. He’s not particular.”
“What about the other victims?” the Devil asked. “Did it matter who you killed?”
“No. He just wanted the liver and heart.”
“Why?” I snapped.
“Don’t know.”
“What did he look like?” the Devil asked.
“Never saw his face. Bloke wore a cape the whole time. Hood covered everything.”
“Do you remember anything distinct about him?”
“No.”
I looked at the murderer, feeling tightness in my throat. “Last year, did you kill a blonde girl with a raven tattooed on her back?”
The Devil growled. “Tell the truth.”
The man’s brow furrowed as he looked at me. “Yeah, I killed her for the client. He wanted another heart. What of it?”
Bile surged in my throat. My fist flashed up, and I punched him square in the face.
He slumped backward, unconscious, and I shook out my fist. “I want to kill him.”
The Devil nodded and dropped the murderer. He collapsed off his bar stool. “You can do so later, if you want.”
I drew in an unsteady breath, knowing that he meant it. I’d never do it, though. As much as I wanted to pay him back for what he had done to Beatrix, committing murder myself wasn’t the answer. I’d figure this out after we saved the other woman.
I looked toward the window. It was nearing dusk, and tonight was the full moon. I looked at the Devil. “We don’t have long.”
The Devil nodded and climbed off his stool, then patted down the unconscious man.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
“The dagger.”
“Oh, of course. Sorry I knocked him out before you could ask him. I was just so…”
“Angry.” The Devil stood, an expression of understanding on his face. “I get it. Don’t worry, the dagger isn’t important.”
“Thanks.” I shook my arms, trying to drive off some of the tension I felt.
The Devil spoke into the little magical gadget strapped to his wrist. “Come into the pub. There’s someone you need to pick up.”
At my feet, the murderer groaned and staggered to his feet The Devil grabbed him by the arm. The bastard jerked away, but the Devil was too fast.
He pulled him close, his teeth bared. “Run and I will tear your throat out,” he said in a low, calm voice that sent shivers down my spine.
The man wilted.
I didn’t blame him.
“And this is for Carrow’s friend, Beatrix.” The Devil punched him hard in the face, knocking him cold, and let the body fall.
“Thanks.” I appreciated that punch more than a million roses.
The Devil nodded, glaring contemptuously at the hitman at his feet.
Two enormous men walked into the pub, each dressed in dark trousers and commando sweaters. Tactical wear, if I had to call it anything. They strode toward the Devil.
“Is this the guy, boss?” one of the men asked. He had wavy auburn hair and broad, handsome features and reminded me of a lion. His shifter form, if I had to bet.. I thought I recognized him from the Devil’s office the first day I’d met him.
“Yes. Take him back and hold him for further questioning.”
The Devil’s shifter bodyguards dragged the man out of the pub. The Devil turned toward the bartender, who raised his hands and shrank against the shelves of liquor bottles. “I won’t say anything, I swear,” the poor man babbled.
“No, you won’t speak of this to anyone. You will forget it immediately.” I could feel the Devil’s magic in the air, and the man’s eyes went blank as he nodded.
“Good man.” The Devil turned to me. “Now, what do you say we go save this woman and finish getting your vengeance?”
18
Carrow
There were still six hours until midnight, and I insisted on going back to the Haunted Hound immediately. I couldn’t linger on the streets of London, and we were closer to that gate than to the Devil’s.
As we walked, images of the murderer flashed in my mind.
“You all right?” the Devil asked.
“Just glad we got him.” I drew in a shuddery breath. “I want to kill him. And the damn necromancer who hired him.”
“We’ll get him, too. I promise.”
Oh, we would. I didn’t relish the thought of blood on my hands, but if I had to kill the necromancer, I’d do it with delight.
We reached the alley only a few minutes later, and returning to the magical world felt as natural as breathing. I pressed my hands to the dingy, unwelcoming door of the Haunted Hound, and the magic admitted me, swinging the door open.
I looked back at the Devil, wondering if he would look uncomfortable, since he was clearly on Quinn’s turf.
No, he didn’t.
Of course he didn’t. Nothing made him uncomfortable.