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He and Warwick were the suppliers to many of the businesses in Carnal Row, getting stock shipped in from the West. A few times when I wasn’t drunk, I helped them get the products off the trains and load them up.
But it was his connection to Brexley that had me freaking out. He would let her know instantly that I was here, that I had returned, which was the last thing I wanted. None of them would let me do this on my own, and I didn’t want any of them to be part of it. Where I was going needed no attachments, distractions, or conscience.
I was going to slaughter with perfect clarity, and I would die doing it.
Dipping my head deeper into my hood, I swiveled around, gripping Scarlet harder, tugging her with me.
“Come on,” I hissed, walking faster in the opposite direction as Scorpion.
“Oh my gods. Look.” The fear in her tone popped my head up, her attention on the main doorway, her mouth parting in horror.
Szent fasz!
Six familiar men strutted into the building, their thick necks twisting around, scanning the train depot.
They were hunting. For her.
I had no doubt it was the same group of men from the night before. Somehow, some way, they knew she was here. Had followed her.
Scorpion was almost on us, the men coming the other way. My heart pounded in my ears as I clutched her hand, snaking us down a platform. The need to run bit at my heels, but I kept an even pace, trying not to draw any attention, weaving us through groups of people debarking a train.
“Ash?” Scarlet hissed my name again, her head peering behind us. The six Russian men were spreading out, their sharp gazes searching every person, scanning the crowd.
“Keep your head down,” I whispered to her, hating that she had no hooded coat to hide in. She tipped her face forward, her dark, silky locks curtaining around like a shield. Except her long hair was a marker, not a shelter.
“???!” There!One bellowed in Russian, pointing at us like a tattletale, his buddies jerking toward us, taking off for our platform.
Out of my peripheral, I saw the commotion twisting Scorpion’s head in our direction. Ducking into a throng of people before he could see me, I swore under my breath.
“Fuck.” Yanking her hand, I tore off for the end of the train, my heart beat ponding in my ears. Though her legs were long, she struggled to keep up. “Hurry up,” I ordered. The men were gaining, shoving and pushing through the crowd to get us.
Reaching the last carriage, I stopped at the end, leaping down onto the tracks. Twisting to help her, I blinked as Scarlet jumped down next to me, her form landing with the ease of a cat.
“Come on!” she yelled at me, taking off across the tracks, hurtling over them like balance beams. Her stability on her feet, even in heeled boots, was impressive.
Catching up, I didn’t hesitate, gripping her hips and tossing her back onto the plank, her body hitting and rolling onto the cement. Pulling myself up, I scrambled over the ground, getting my feet under me.
“There!” I yanked her up, pulling her with me to a train carriage. Ducking inside, I watched out the window for the men while we ran through the inside of the train. They peered around, searching for where we had disappeared. I could see one pointing back at the train we jumped behind, telling him to check it out. Another one motioned in our direction.
“Dammit.” I swung back out of the train and jumped on the one across from us. A whistle rang in the air as Scarlet and I moved deeper into the train.
“Where the fuck did they go?” A harsh Russian accent came from outside the carriage.
Sucking in, I whirled around, grabbing Scarlet and yanking her behind the luggage rack. Wrapping my arms around her, I pressed our bodies together, trying to make us the smallest we could. My head tipped back, and I peered through a crack between the rack and the wall.
My muscles strained, my throat tightening at seeing two of the men step into the carriage. Their jaws locked with irritation, one pacing around, running his hand through his short dark hair, speaking in thick Russian.
“We lose her again, he will be very angry.”
“Yes.” The other responded coolly. He had a buzz cut, his eyes black as death. “Then I suggest you find them.”
“Yes, Nikolay.”
Nikolay? As in Nikolay the Bloody?
Fuck me. This guy was notorious within the Russian Mafia—drugs, gambling, and underage sex rings. He was half human, half Vampir, which was nothing like the vampires in movies and books humans love to imagine. They didn’t suck blood or turn into bats, but Vampirs did gain power off other people’s blood, especially fae’s, taking on their powers. They were very similar to Strighoul, though, unlike Strighoul, they didn’t consume the corpses of their victims for energy.
Vampirs were mainly in Russia, their power too ingrained in the country to ever leave, but even among Vampirs, Nikolay was known for his ruthless cruelty and assassinations, which no one could pin on him. He was high up in the Mafia and didn’t get out of bed for chump change or rich little college girls.
