Shadowdance(53)

Jack followed along, leaping with ease from rooftop to rooftop, watching, waiting. And listening.

The woman’s laugh drifted up first, a high, tittering sound, designed, he supposed, to entice a man to continue with his attentions. “I shouldn’t, my lord.” There was a breathy little catch to her voice.

“You really should, my love. Just give me a little taste. Yes, like that.”

A moan, then grunting. Far above the rocking coach, Jack’s innards rolled. Memories threatened. Hands upon him, the laughter, the jeers. That voice: just a little taste. Teeth sinking in deep, and the slick tongue sliding over his flesh, sucking. Jack’s skin crawled, leaving him with the desire to rip it from his bones. Disgust, humiliation, shame. And hate. So powerful that he shook with it. Hate transmuted into rage. He held on to it, channeled it into power and control. Moving along the edges of the Pall Mall, the coach finally turned onto a smaller lane, the rider sitting straight as if he couldn’t hear the slapping of flesh against flesh. Perhaps he couldn’t, perhaps he’d grown immune.

Jack had not. Ideally he would have waited until he and his prey were alone, but not tonight. Not with those sounds filling his head. Teeth grinding, his body vibrating with the need to maim, he jumped, landing upon the coach roof with light feet. The driver turned. One punch and the man slumped. A startled noise came from within. Jack gave them no more time. His claws tore through the roof as if it were paper. The woman inside screamed. Glimpses of her pale, bared thighs filtered through the red rage, but he had little care for her. No, it was the insect crawling away from her, desperate to flee the carriage.

Jack reached down and grabbed him, heedless of the blows the little bastard rained upon him. He hadn’t shifted. He wanted this scum to see who was going to end his life. Holding his prey secure, he leapt high, the weight in his hand making the launch awkward. His prey screamed, his flailing legs hitting the edge of the coach roof hard. A snap rang out, followed by another scream, this one of pain. Jack held fast, using the strength in his legs to jump again, a great bound that took him to the end of the lane. He dragged his catch along until they were deep in an alley where no soul would dare follow.

There he tossed his prey down. The demon scrambled, one limb twisted at an odd angle. “I’ve no quarrel with you, Bishop!” His skin was turning from human ivory to demonic grey, the stolen visage of a handsome lord melting into an ugly mug. Jack squashed down his chest with one booted foot.

“Just a taste,” Jack growled, his sight going hazy. “Isn’t that what you said?”

The demon’s wild eyes flared. “What? No! I never—”

Jack hauled him up, his claws sinking deep into the demon’s belly. “Just a taste of me! Isn’t that right, Mercer Dawn?”

Black blood trickled from Mercer’s lips. “I didn’t make it hurt. Not like the others. I could have.”

On a roar Jack raked his claws upward, gouging through the demon’s flesh, making the rotter convulse. “Do not speak!” Fangs elongated in his mouth, his body began to grow, muscles swelling, and leathery black wings once again sprang from his back.

The demon gaped with terror. “You’re no shifter. What in hell’s name are you?”

He towered now, a being over nine feet, and the surge of clean, hot power running through him was unfamiliar yet welcome. The demon dangled in his grip. One good swipe and he’d easily sever his prey’s spine. He craved that death. He would kill everyone who had ever touched him. “Revenge,” he growled.

Mercer cried now. Vile tears tinged with blood. “Please. Have mercy. I didn’t…” Yellow eyes stared up at him.

Golden-brown eyes filled his mind’s eye. Shining up at him as he bracketed her body to protect her. Jack paused. Bile coated his throat. Memories threatened. Mary Chase dancing in his arms. Taking a life. Hanging from that wall.

I liked you. When we first met. Mary. Hell, focus. His claws sank deeper into the demon.

“Please,” Mercer babbled, “I’ll give you anything. Anything you want.”

Anything? Jack’s list of wants had grown. He wanted his sense of control back. Damn it, he wanted his life back. He wanted.… Jack’s body trembled as the roar built up in his chest, pushing, choking, until it burst free.





Chapter Fifteen





Holly shivered and huddled closer to the rough stone walls that lined her cell. Across the way was a cell made of thick glass panels and a grid of gold bars. Inside sat a diminutive woman. Nothing by way of features to see but a pair of dark, glittering eyes that peered out from behind hanks of thick black hair. The woman had taken to bashing her head upon the bars as she recited a man’s name over and over until it became a mad song.