Terror strikes like a lightning bolt as I’m yanked back, battling momentum and equilibrium as I struggle to stay upright.
No, no, no, no, no.That one word is a constant refrain in my brain. I can’t go back.
I fight the fear that has frozen my body, struggling as hard as I can. If I scream?—
“Enough.”
I go limp, the sudden shock of recognition making my muscles go lax.
But the real reason I stop fighting?
Relief.
START A WAR
As soon as she stops struggling, I spin her around. Back against brick, Carina lifts her chin to look at me.
For a few seconds, we stare at each other. Longer than a few seconds maybe.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
I raise an eyebrow, taken aback by the bite behind the words. It’s not a tone I’ve heard from her before.
“I have the same question, CarinaCaruso.”
There’s a rapid spasm in her expression—guilt or fear, mixed with apprehension. Then it smooths. “You preferred not to talk.”
I’m in a shitty mood, following a shitty week. Yet I nearly smile. “I didn’t lie about my last name.”
She bites her bottom lip briefly. “How did you find out?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I say dismissively.
The triumph of finding her first is fading, replaced by the realization of what’s supposed to happen now. I should have already called Igor so he could start his war. We could be in the air in an hour.
“Of course itmatters,” Carina hisses. She glances around, scanning the street before refocusing on me. “How did you … find me?”
“I’m smarter than your father’s men.”
She purses her lips, leveling me with the sort of harsh look that never affects me.
Hers does.
“I know you”—I pause—“like Camille Saint-Saëns.” I didn’t have to add that last bit. “I saw there was aSamson and Delilahperformance. Figured you might go.”
“You were looking for me? You followed me from the theater?”
I nod once, answering both questions.
“You could have called.”
Carina’s challenging tone makes me think she suspects I tossed the cell I used to contact her. I wonder if she’s tried to reach me since, then quickly banish the thought.
I reassess her current animosity and consider it might have more to do with our last interaction than my sudden appearance. Right now, there are more pressing matters.
I try to convey that urgency as I ask, “Why did you run from your father?”
Her eyes narrow. “How do you know that I did?”
