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Eventually—surely—I’ll get somewhere, right?
Chapter Five
THING
She is running in circles. She has no idea where she is or where she is going.
Abaddon will be mad, but I am relieved.
He flies above us, using at least a modicum of rune work to shield himself from her sight. My gifts work. . . differently. Instead of calling on the light, I disappear into the shadows of the nether realm that leak into this one. Or perhaps the shadows simply follow me. Calling me to gather more souls to endless rest.
Well, they can’t have this one.
I follow and watch her footsteps become more and more frantic as she runs through the forest. She finally slows again, as she does every so often, and puts her gloved hand on a tree to rest.
And then she collapses at its base.
She does not cry in her obvious frustration, as Hannah-consort sometimes does when she cannot do something. She simply stares out into the cold, her face expressionless. But she does look a bit feral, considering her face is still streaked with blood.
Snow falls around her, and the most she does is stomp her foot and let out a grunt before getting back to her feet. I frown and look upward for my brother. How long does he intend to let this continue?
It’s clear she has no place to go. Or, if she does, she is too lost to find it.
I see no need to continue this farce, or her suffering. Her limbs have thus far remained intact. But Hannah-consort explained to us that had she not had the internal heat of the hybrid child protecting her, she likely would have died from exposure to the cold temperatures the one time she fled the castle in terror.
Abaddon was so astounded at her confession that he set the fires in the castle to a constant blaze to ensure her warmth at all times. The rest of us were uncomfortably warm, but we’d survived far worse than cozy temperatures. It had been so long since he’d been around humans that he forgot about their fragility.
I will not be so reckless with this human. I remember well the fields of men who did not awaken the morning after a freeze but lay stiff as I carried them off to the nether plane after the last breath escaped their lungs.
Though I know it will displease my brother, so determined to find the stalking angel, I am finished with the chase. As I step from shadow into light, about to call out to her, I scent what I could not in the shadow on the wind.
Another predator is here, and I have been a fool to miss it.
Right as she moves wearily to stand again, I call out, “Watch out!”
But it is too late. She immediately goes on alert, dropping down to a crouch as she reaches for her thighs. Her head whips toward my voice and away from the real threat—the lynx that has also been stalking her.
It leaps for her, forelegs outstretched and maw wide open.
I jump only a moment later.
It is fast, but I am faster. Barely. I collide with the animal, and like lightning, its paw scrapes across my face as it scrambles around my body to launch a fresh attack, sinking its teeth into my neck.
I howl in pain and fury, but my brothers and I were ruthlessly set upon each other by our father for centuries in pit matches. I use all my arms to pry the beast off me, ignoring the pain as a chunk of my neck comes away in its teeth. I stomp it into the snow, pummeling it with my fists until it stops moving.
Then it is my bright red blood that is a shock against the snow as I slump to my knees.
The woman stands in front of me, hand to her mouth in disbelief.
And then, because she is no fool, she turns and flees again.
I fall face-first into the snow.
Chapter Six
KSENIA
I don’t get very far before my conscience catches up with me. That animal would have killed you. Yes, I’m a trained killer.
I’m my father’s favorite assassin in a brutal bratva. And yet. . . The blue guy saved me and got attacked instead. Then I just ran away. Again. It’s not like I have any better idea where I’m going.
I stop, squeeze my eyes shut, and before I can think better of it, I sprint back to where the giant blue man with too many arms is slumped face-down in the snow.
I grab one of his arms to lift him, then immediately let go, jerking back from the touch. Obviously, it’s a useless endeavor anyway, he’s so heavy, but he lifts his head at my gesture, blood still gushing from the bite at his neck. I yank off my left glove and shove it over the wound as if that would do anything to stem the gruesome tide.
