Page 212 of Volik

And then, through the glass, over the noise of the street, I hear it again.

His name.

Volik.

Power twists inside my rib cage.

Volik has done something. Or… something has happened to him.

My mouth tries to smile at that thought.

At the idea that Volik might be dead.

But no. I would know.

Somehow, I would know.

No one has killed him.

And no one else will.

That’s my honor.

My skin prickles as I shove the café door open and step inside.

There are gasps as the mortals recoil from my presence.

It’s not my height. Or my attitude.

It’s my black eyes. My fangs. And the horns on the top of my head that nearly scrape the low ceiling.

My hands flex into fists at my sides as I think of the last time I saw Volik. How even back then, even when he was young, he was large.

Taller than me. Bigger.

I know what he thought.

He thought he was better than me.

He thought he was better than everyone.

Him and his fucking brother.

That twisting inside me increases. Because now his name is floating through the air in my town.

“He might be scary, but hear me out.” A feminine voice laughs from a table near the window.

Two women sit together, elbows on the table, both looking at a phone. Too consumed to notice my approach.

“What are you reading?” I demand.

They startle in unison, eyes widening as they look up at me.

“Wh-what?” the one holding the phone stammers.

A growl rolls out of my chest. And the scent of fear fills the room. “You said the name Volik. Why?”

“I… I…” Tears start to roll down the woman’s cheek.