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Wrath laughed in a low rumble. “Leave it to you to be unimpressed, even by a miracle.”
“Is that what this is?”
“You want me to go back where I came from?”
“Nah. I think we’ll keep ya.”
The embrace between the males was a hard, back-thumping one, as if they had been parted by much passage of time and vast distances. Which made no sense. They saw each other every night in front of civilians—
Over the King’s shoulder, Vishous’s eyes shifted to Bitty, and she ducked her head and hustled out, bypassing a number of uncles who had congregated at the entrance. Her father wasn’t among the other Brothers, though.
Just as well. She wasn’t sure what she would tell him about tonight.
As she stepped out into the snow, she looked across at the cozy cottage where the audiences were conducted. Then she glanced back at the steel door, and felt like some kind of reset had happened, some piece that had been missing returning to its rightful place.
Except that was crazy, she told herself as she dematerialized back home.
Nothing had changed in the first place.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The flames of the bonfire licked into the darkness and plumes of smoke swirled around in the cold wind. As light flickered out from the blaze, the illumination cascaded over the winter landscape, enlivening the bare-limbed trees and the pristine snow cover.
Nate stood upwind of it all. He didn’t like the smell of burning flesh, not even when it was something edible on a grill, and the gasoline he’d used as an accelerant wasn’t any better in his nose. He’d used the latter, though, because there was a lot to burn up. Most of it was Mickey Trix’s body, but he’d also tossed in the pants he’d been wearing when he’d done the job on the guy, and the towel he’d wiped his bloody hands on when he’d had to go greet Shuli.
While he watched the combustion, images played in his mind, and none of them made him feel any better—
Fireflies.Fireflies?
Even though it was the wrong season, there appeared to be a colony offireflies that had gathered on the far side of the fire. But that couldn’t be right. They had to be sparks from the flames…
Suddenly, he knew what it was. And who.
“Mother…fucker.”
Across all the flames, just inside the ring of light, the tiny sparks coalesced into a solid figure, a female with hair like moonlight and an aura like the sun itself.
Not tonight, he thought.I do not have the energy.
Still, he began to walk around to her, and she did the same, until they met at the eastern mark of the compass. Rahvyn’s silver hair lay on the shoulders of a red wool coat, and she had proper snow boots on, as well as gloves. As she stared up at him with wariness, he thought of another gunshot wound he’d had in the gut, all those years ago.
When the course of his life had changed forever.
“Are you not cold?” she said.
He didn’t glance down at all his lack of jacket. The thing was hanging on a tree from when he’d warmed up dragging Mickey’s dead weight through the snow. And she could take her concern elsewhere.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Nate held his arms out and turned in a circle. “Fine, like always. Why’re you asking?”
“Do not play games with me. You know why.”
Zsadist must have told her about the alley scene, he thought as he stayed quiet.
“Nate, I wish you would talk to someone. It does not have to be me.” She looked in the direction of his cabin. “This is not healthy, any of it. The isolation. The anger you have. And you are not eating well—”
