Name a place and time. I’ll meet you.
Viktor
I’m already on my way to your apartment. See you there in ten.
I blow out an irritated breath as I shove my phone into my pocket.Fucking Viktor.Giving Grace’s sleeping form one last longing glance, I grab my things and exit her apartment.
As soon as I step through the door of my dwelling, I know something is off. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as a cool breeze blows through the open balcony doors, and my adrenaline spikes.I know I didn’t leave those open.
My hand moves to the weapon at my hip at the same time a man steps out of the shadows. His outline is massive, the kind that would make most linebackers jealous—but when he moves, it’s with the grace of a dancer. An old red mask covers his features, rusted and full of dents from years of use. His hair is graying at the temples, and I know beneath the mask lies a face weathered by decades of life under the rule of the Sanctum.
Viktor steps closer, the limp in his gait more pronounced than the last time I saw him. “Seven,” he barks, by way of greeting. “I thought I was going to have to track you down.”
“It’s been fifteen minutes since you texted.” I shove an accusatory finger in his chest. “And you shouldn’t be trackinganyonedown with that knee. When’s the last time you went to the doctor?”
“Fuck you. I’m perfectly fine.” Viktor reaches up, ripping off his mask so he can glare at me. “And stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Caring!” he snaps. “When you say shit like that, it makes it harder to be pissed at you.”
“You could… stop being pissed at me for a change. I think it might help your blood pressure.”
“I’ll stop being pissed when you stop being a little shit. And my blood pressure isfine.”
I raise a brow. “Fine, like your bum knee?”
He raises a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes with a tortured expression as he murmurs, “Don’t kill the boy, Viktor. It won’t make you feel better.”
“You wishyou could kill me.” I roll my eyes. “And I haven’t been aboyfor twenty years.”
Viktor huffs. “You’ll always be a boy to me.”
“Because you’re an ancient relic?”
He fixes me with an icy glare. “Careful, Seven. You don’t know what I might have slipped into your food while I was waiting here alone.”
“I doubt you had the foresight.” I move to the sofa, plopping down with a dramatic sigh and sprawling out. “What do you want, Viktor?”
“I wish to discuss your… hobby.”
“I don’t have hobbies.”
He steps closer, his face like thunder. “But youdo,Seven. I know all about it. Red 7? It’s not even unique.”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t get to pick the fucking name. You can write that reporter fromThe Moriton Timesa strongly worded letter if you don’t like it.”
He sighs heavily. “Seven… You have to stop.”
“Why? It’s the truth. I didn’t pick the name.”
“Not aboutthat,” he says. “You’re playing a dangerous game, and the Sanctum won't like it. The Sanctum has been having a lot of issues with rogue Masks since Seraphina took over, and they’ve been trying to talk to them, get them to stop—-with as much success as I’m having with you right now.” He narrows his eyes in a glare. “The fact is, they’re going to lock all of you up if you don’t quit. They won’t kill you, but they can’t have highly trained Masks running around Moriton killing and doing whatever the hell they please. They need to contain the problem before it gets out of hand.” He gives me a pointed look.“That means locking you away where you won’t be a problem anymore.”
“You’d see me put in prison?”
“I wouldn’t stop it if it was ordered,” he says.
My fists clench. “Really? You’d just let it happen?”
