Page 56 of The Mech Who Loved Me
"And yet," Ghost said coldly, tugging off the fingers of his leather gloves, one by one, "you gave my mushroom to a man you've never seen in my company—a man who usedmyname to stealfromme?"
The Tibetan girl froze in the corner. She at least had the sense tofearhim.
"Aye, well, sir, how was Itoknow—"
Ghost punched him in the throat, crushing the cartilage there. The girl screamed, and he smoothly withdrew his pistol from inside his coat pocket and put a bullet in her brain. Her body slammed into the wall, spraying blood across the bookcase, but her eyes were already vacant by the time she hit thefloor.
Winthrop coughed and gurgled, clutching at his throat as he went down to his knees. His eyes rolled, showing far too much white. There was a pleainthem.
Ghost knelt in front of the major, watching him slowly choke to death. "I could save your life," he purred, "but I have no real reason to do so. You betrayed me. You cost me a very substantial amount of a medicinal product I need. These events have repercussions. How am I meant to put my plans into place if the people I rely upon are so faithless? So fucking stupid?" Standing slowly, he put his foot against Winthrop's shoulder and kicked the struggling man onto his back. "And there are other dealers I couldturnto."
Winthrop reached for the counter, dragging himself up and slumping against it. His face was turning purple, but he somehow managed to slam a hand on a pile ofpapers.
"No weapon will save you now," Ghost murmured, looking around. There was little left to salvage here. Winthrop wouldn't dare lie. He had only the one small bag of mushroom, which wasn't enough, and none of the other herbs or books interestedGhost.
Winthrop caught a small card and tried to shove it toward him. Ghost frowned, then bent and picked it up when it fluttered to the floor athisfeet.
"What's this?" He scanned the calling card, a very familiar name catching his eye. "Miss Ava McLaren." One of Malloryn'slittle mice. "She was here?" When Winthrop didn't answer, he caught the man by the jaw and slammed him upon the counter, his fingers biting into the man's skin. "Why was Miss McLaren here? What did she want? Was she asking about themushroom?"
Winthrop gurgled, but he managed to give afaintnod.
Ghost snapped the man's neck, leaving the room suddenly silent. He wiped the froth of Winthrop's drool off his hands—could the man not even make a clean death?—and then considered the note again. Blood and ashes. How the hell had Miss McLaren discovered the link between thedhampirand themushroom?
Ulbricht. It had to be Ulbricht. That bastard had done something with the caterpillar mushroom, something that drew undue attention, right when Ghost needed to slip beneath Malloryn'snotice.
And worse, it meant Malloryn might now hold information on the one substance that seemed deadly to both a blue blood and adhampir.
Ghost strode out the back door, meeting his second's eyes. Obsidian had been born in fire, the way he had been—created in the asylum and laboratories of Dr. Erasmus Cremorne. But there were times when he wondered if his second was quite as hard as he neededtobe.
Those dark eyes flickered toward the interior of the shop, where nothing but silenceremained.
"I have a task for you," Ghost said, handing the otherdhampirthe calling card. "Ulbricht's double-crossed me. I want his head on a platter. No. Actually, bring him in alive. I'd like to do the honors of carving his heart out of his chestpersonally."
"And Miss McLaren?" Obsidian asked, no doubt having heard it all, thanks to his enhancedsenses.
Miss McLaren, hmm...."She's interested in our caterpillar mushroom, it seems. I think we should show her firsthand precisely what it does to a blue blood. Send one of the new lads out to introduce her to it. Perhaps Corbyn? It can be an initiation for him—it's not as though she's a dangerous target, and he now knows the price offailure."
He'd made Corbyn hold Jameson down while he removed thelad'sear.
"He's notready."
Your opinion, not mine.Ghost ground his teeth together. "Then put a bullet in him and send someone else. Just make sure she's dead before she can breathe a word of what she's found in Malloryn's ear. Oh, and clean up that messinside."
* * *
When one neededto enter a building unannounced, one called in theexperts.
So it was that barely six hours after Kincaid matter-of-factly told her they were going to break into Major Winthrop's shop, Ava found herself crouched in the small alley behind it. Her clockwork heart was pressure-driven, but it seemed to be running faster than usual, and she had the horrible feeling Major Winthrop was going to jump out at any moment andcatchthem.
"Relax," Kincaid murmured, drawing a black leather mask down over his face. "Nobody's here. Charlie's already checked, and I wouldn't be bringing you into a situation I thought wasdangerous."
Charlie knelt in front of the door at the back of the shop and withdrew two slim picks. The lad had been born in the rookeries as far as she knew, so picking locks was second nature to him. He could do it in his sleep, he'dassuredthem.
"I am relaxing," she whispered back, then flinched. Was that a cat yowling in thedistance?
A warm hand cupped her nape, rubbing the muscles there. Despite her tension, Ava melted into Kincaid's side, shamelessly arching under his touch. "Sure you are," he whispered, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Shame we're notelsewhere."
Alone was what he meant. His hand slid down her spine, tracing the armored leather corset she'd borrowed from Gemma, and then lower, caressing the curve of her bottom. She wore split skirts, which were also Gemma's, and the sensation of having something rubbing like that between her legs—even fabric—made her feel a little different. A littledangerous.
