Jeaniene Frost
At Grave’s End
The third book in the Night Huntress series, 2009
To my husband,
for accepting without judging,
loving without conditions,
laughing instead of getting angry,
and thinking of others before yourself.
I’m the lucky one.
ONE
THE MAN SMILED ANDILET MY GAZE LINGERover his face. His eyes were a lovely shade of pale blue. Their color reminded me of a Siberian husky, except the person sitting next to me was no animal. Of course, he wasn’t human, either.
“I have to leave now, Nick,” I said. “Thanks for the drinks.”
He stroked my arm. “Have another one. Let me enjoy your beautiful face a little longer.”
I stifled a snort. Wasn’t he flattering? But if he liked my face so much, then his eyes wouldn’t have been glued to my cleavage.
“All right. Bartender…”
“Let me guess.” The loud voice came from across the bar. An unfamiliar face grinned at me. “A gin and tonic, right, Reaper?”
Shit.
Nick froze. Then he did what I was afraid he’d do-he ran.
“Code Red!” I barked, vaulting after the fleeing figure. Heavily armed men in black clothes sprinted into the bar, shoving the patrons aside.
Nick threw people at me as I went after him. Screaming, flailing bodies hit me, making my attempts to catch them and fling a silver knife through Nick’s heart even more difficult. One of my blades landed in Nick’s chest, but too far center to have hit his heart. Still, I couldn’t just let those people splatter to the floor like so much garbage. Nick might think of people that way. I didn’t.
My team fanned out, guarding all the exits and attempting to herd the remaining patrons out of the way.