Read The Taste of Night for Free Online

sharply. “And the Tulpa will never know.”
    I thought about that for a moment, and decided he was bluffing. My death would leave a kill spot, noticeable by any supernatural, same as anyone else’s. And kill spots didn’t only leave the psychic imprint of the person who’d died, they identified those who’d done the killing as well. It was a supernatural calling card, bragging rights, and a history lesson all rolled into one.
    Except in one way, I thought, and swallowed hard, gripping my conduit more tightly. No agent could heal from the blow of his own conduit. If you were killed by your own paranormal weapon, your aura was negated, your scent obliterated, and your death would be blighted from the mythology. It was as if you’d never existed.
    “Over my cold, dead body,” I murmured, just as my glyph began to glow. I looked around frantically.
    “Pleasure,” came the woman’s voice from above.
    I looked up to see her already falling. There was no time to clear my bow for a direct shot, though the impact of her body landing on mine caused my trigger finger to tense, and an arrow was released into space. I heard a surprised yelp and an angry “Watch it!”
    I head-butted the woman, and she cried out, falling back, but by that time Liam had dropped from the rafters and had my weapon hand secured in both of his. He lifted it, using pure brute strength to angle my conduit toward my chest. I held tight, but he had power and leverage on his side, and he angled the arrow toward my core, ripping through my left bicep as he pushed the arrow lower and closer to my heart.
    I rammed him with my knee, but felt the jarring sensation of my kneecap meeting with a cup—what the hell was it made of, steel?—and my leg crumpled beneath me upon its return to the ground.
    Halfway to the floor, weapon hand still trapped in his, I anticipated his reach. I released my conduit, latched on to his forearms, and pulled him with me as I rolled back, propelling him with my good leg so he went flying over my head. There were more cries as he collided with the woman, and I was up again, stretching for my conduit. Inches away, a black boot connected with my weapon, sending it skittering across the concrete floor. A second boot plowed into my face. Another pair landed on my back. Something popped like corn, and numbness sped along my limbs.
    Please, God. Don’t let whatever that was have been important .
    “Jesus, that was easy!” Liam gasped, stomping on my neck for good measure before kneeling in front of me.
    It was, I thought, disgusted with myself as he sat me upright. My back was spasming in pain, but knowing I’d heal, I pushed away the agony and looked up at him through watering eyes. I was surprised—though I shouldn’t have been—to find he was dressed as the security guard I’d passed on the way in. Even without my ability to see auras anymore, I should’ve at least scented him. And I hadn’t.
    I deserved to die for that alone.
    “Speak for yourself,” the woman told him, rubbing at her forehead as she came around to stand in front of me. And there was the second surprise. It was the same woman who’d been bidding on me at the bachelorette auction. I closed myeyes and let my head drop back. Okay, I deserved to die twice.
    I opened my eyes when I heard the scrape of my conduit being lifted from the floor. The woman was inspecting it carefully, and the sight of it in someone else’s hands was unsettling, like she was carrying around a piece of me.
    The woman was dwarfed next to Liam, even though she was taller than average, and fit despite being small boned. Though not as blindingly blond, she was serviceably pretty, with eyes that were less greedy than assessing. Of the two, she alarmed me more. I glanced at her hands. It could’ve been the easy way she was palming my weapon. Damn.
    She knelt, grabbed my arm—stronger than she looked, even for a nonmortal—and torqued it until I was angled awkwardly against a glass