Hard Bitten - Chloe Neill [128]
Without a pause, and with the speed of a centuries-old vampire, Ethan threw himself forward, his torso in front of mine, blocking the stake from hitting my body.
He took the hit full on, the stake bursting through his chest.
And through his heart.
For a moment, time stopped, and Ethan looked back at me, his green eyes tight with pain. And then he was gone, the stake clattering to the ground in front of me. Ethan replaced by—transformed to—nothing more than a pile of ash on the floor.
I didn’t have time to stop or think.
Celina, now fully feeling the effects of the V, was moving again, a second stake in hand. I grabbed the stake she’d thrown, and praying for aim, I propelled it.
My aim was true.
It struck her heart, and before a long second had passed, she was gone, as well. Just as Ethan had fallen, there was nothing left of her but a pile of ash on the carpet. My instinct for preservation replaced by shock, I glanced down.
Two tidy cones of ash lay on the carpet.
All that was left of them.
She was dead.
He was dead.
The realization hit me. Even as others rushed into the room, I covered my mouth to hold back the scream and fell to my knees, strength gone.
Because he was gone.
Malik, Catcher, my grandfather, and two uniformed officers burst into the room. Luc must have called them. I looked back at Tate, still behind his desk, a peppery bite of magic in the air but no other sign that he was even vaguely worried by what had gone down in his home.
No way was I letting this go unpunished. “Tate was distributing V,” I said, still on the floor. “He drugged Celina, let her out of jail. She’s gone.” I looked down at the ash again. “She killed Ethan—he jumped in front of me. And then I killed her.”
The room went silent.
“Merit’s grieving,” Tate said. “She’s confused the facts.” He pointed at Paulie, who was now rushing toward a window on the other side of the room. “As I believe you already know, that man was responsible for distributing V. He just confessed as much.”
Paulie sputtered as the officers pulled him away from the window. “You son of a bitch. You think you can get away with this? You think you can use me like this?” He pulled away from the uniforms, who just managed to wrestle him to the floor before he jumped on Tate.
“This is his fault,” Paulie said, chest-down on the floor, lifting his head just enough to glare at Tate. “All of this was his doing. He arranged the entire thing—found some abandoned city property for the warehouse, found someone to mix the chemicals, and set up the distribution network.”
Tate sighed haggardly. “Don’t embarrass yourself, Mr. Cermak.” He looked over at my grandfather, sympathy in his expression. “He must have been sampling his own wares.”
“You think I’m dumb?” Cermak asked, eyes wild. “I have tapes, you asshole. I recorded every conversation we’ve ever had because I knew—I just knew—that if worse came to worst, you’d throw me to the wolves.”
Tate blanched, and everyone in the room froze, not quite sure what to do.
“You have tapes, Mr. Cermak?” my grandfather said.
“Dozens,” he said smugly. “All in a safe-deposit box. The key’s around my neck.”
One of the uniforms fished inside Cermak’s shirt, then pulled out a small flat key on a chain. “Found it,” he said, holding it up.
And there was the evidence we needed.
All eyes turned to Tate. He adjusted his collar. “I’m sure we can clear this up.”
My grandfather nodded at Catcher, and they both stepped toward Tate. “Why don’t we discuss this downtown?”
Four more officers appeared at the office door. Tate took them in and nodded at my grandfather.
“Why don’t we?” he said politely, eyes forward as he strode from the room, a sorcerer, an ombudsman, and four CPD officers behind him.
The first two uniforms led Paulie away.
Silence descended.
Probably only minutes had passed since I’d thrown the stake. But the minutes felt like hours, which felt like days. Time became a blur that moved around me, while