Konstantin gives a faint, wicked smile. “Planning on haunting me if I don’t?”
“No,” I purr, already pulling my own mask back on. “I’ll just find a way to bond with your enemies and make them dinner instead.”
His laugh cracks the tension just enough to let him lean in and kiss me. It’s slow, dark, and full of everything we can’t say yet, but I hear it and feel it anyway.
His hand slips down to squeeze mine. “I’ll come back to you.” His voice is a dark promise and quiet prayer. “I swear it.”
And then disappears into the night. A shadow vanishing into deeper ones, leaving the scent of smoke and sin and his warmth in my chest like a brand.
I lean against the mausoleum behind me, my heart racing and my throat tight.
Because here’s the thing—I don’t trust fate, and I definitely don’t trust Giselda. Not after everything I’ve learned recently.
But I have faith in Konstantin and, surprisingly, the bond that hums steadily in my chest.
twelve
Konstantin
Mysensesexplodeintohyperdrive as soon as I hit the borderline where the war has already started.
The snap of a twig a hundred yards away, the hiss of whispered curses from the men fighting, the metallic tang of blood hanging in the air. It all breaches my eardrums so quickly that I have to grit my teeth against the onslaught. My vision slices through the haze, picking up every movement, every breath, and every twitch with crystal clarity.
Ahead of me, Misha’s surrounded by so many men that I only catch glimpses of him through the gaps as he knocks one out. The bastard’s throwing punches like he’s got nothing to lose, buying me time and keeping them busy until I can get into place to take them out.
Time slows as I launch forward, every second stretching like rubber. My feet barely whisper against the ground as I close the distance between us in a heartbeat, travelling faster than any normal person should. My hands come up, sharp as knives, to catch the swinging axe with a crack that echoes in the chaos.
There’s surprise on the man’s face as I shove him. He tumbles into the next one, creating a domino of destruction, toppling to the ground with broken bones and muffled screams.
Misha’s eyes find mine, and there’s a quick flicker of relief before he snarls, “It is about damn time you showed up. Thought you were going to ghost me.”
I spin to intercept a knife lunging for my side. “Ghosts rarely make noise.”
The blade grazes my suit jacket before I snap my arm around the attacker’s wrist and twist. There’s a sickening pop, and then the knife clatters to the ground. Lifting the man in the air as if he weighed as much as an empty box, I toss him so hard to the ground that there’s a loud crack as his spine breaks.
I turn back to Misha. “Where’s Giselda?”
The smirk doesn’t reach his eyes. “She’s not here yet.”
My enhanced hearing picks up the faintest breath before the hiss slices through the air. I jerk to the side just as the bullet passes me, and then the man drops at Misha’s feet with a hole in his forehead.
I pivot and throw a fist that sends another attacker sprawling backward. The world comes to me in frames as I glance around, seeking out other enemies. Every detail is sharp and brutal as I see the bodies scattered on the grounds, yet the ghost I’m hunting isn’t here.
I snarl, kicking one of the dead bodies so hard, he flies before landing nearly a football field away.
Oops.
I tune into what my abilities are trying to tell me, and that’s when I feel it—the slow creeping of energy so corrupted that it has a shiver dancing up my spine.
Closing my eyes, I try to feel the threads of energy and listen to what it’s trying to tell me. There are so many webs that light up behind my lids that it takes a few seconds to find the one I’mlooking for. Once I have a hand on the thread, I open my eyes and let it guide me.
“She’s playing with us,” I murmur, feeling that slight hum from the energy under my skin.
The wrongness of her energy grows as I close in on the end of the thread. It wraps around me in oily tendrils, hovering around my skin, trying to find a hint of vulnerability for it to grasp onto.
My blood has too much power running through it to allow something so corrupt to infect it.
“There,” Misha says, nodding toward the ground.
