Page 183 of Dukes Are Forever
"A taste of your own concoction," Malloryn sneered as Adele escaped the earl.
Balfour snarled as he spun toward Malloryn's last ace.
And then he froze.
"Hello, Father," Jack rasped, his facemask strapped into place and his green eyes glittering mercilessly as he took a threatening step forward.
It had been an agreement Malloryn had conceded weeks ago.He's mine,Jack had claimed.
Balfour seemed taken aback. "You shouldn't be here."
If there was anyone in the entire company who deserved revenge more than Malloryn, it was Jack. Balfour had twisted him to his use as a child, molded him, and then shunned him when his sister, Rosalind, proved the more dangerous.
And then he'd punished Jack for Rosalind's betrayal.
"You and I have unfinished business," Jack replied. Then he pulled the trigger on his dart-gun.
The dart slammed into Balfour's chest, but it only quivered there, stuck by its point.
Something was wrong.
Balfour smiled at the pair of them, and then yanked it out. "Did you think I didn't come prepared for Black Vein?"
He rapped his knuckles on his chest, and the sound echoed hollowly. No wonder all of Malloryn's strikes had skittered harmlessly off him.
It happened in an instant.
Balfour glanced at Malloryn as if to saywhat can you do?And then his left arm flicked out, a flash of silver spinning from his fingers.
"Jack!" Malloryn yelled, but his agent staggered back, the knife hilt-deep in his chest.
Jack's face paled behind the mask, and he went down on one knee.
And then, dart in hand, Balfour turned back to him. "Perhaps a taste of your own medicine?"
* * *
Devoncourt thrashedon the floor as Black Vein wreaked its damage. Adele took one look at this face—mottled with dark veins—and knew he was no longer a problem.
She scrambled for the knife at his side.
But as Devoncourt began gasping his last breath, she saw something better hanging from his belt. He must have found one of the Doeppler Orbs Lark had dropped.
Adele wrenched it away from him, glancing at Malloryn.
"Do it!" he yelled at her.
Adele twisted both halves of the orb and threw it at Balfour's feet.
The orb sprang open, gas hissing from its internals in an inky cloud of pure death—for any blue blood ordhampirin the room.
Malloryn draped his shirt sleeve over his mouth as Balfour sucked in a startled gasp. He turned on her, Malloryn's blood still dripping off the end of his rapier.
One step.
Two.
Black veins mottled through Balfour's face.
