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“No.” He swiped his hand over his eyes like he wanted to erase everything he had seen. “Far from it. But they always expect me to come crawling back. No matter what they do to me. No matter what I have done.”
I couldn’t stop staring at the scars on his body. “How have they hurt you?”
“I don’t wish to talk about this.” He shrugged on his shirt and began buttoning it. “There’s no point in telling you about the sins and punishments of my past.”
They had punished him. Badly enough to scar his body, badly enough for him to kill the man who hunted him down.
I swallowed hard past the ache in my throat. “You said I wouldn’t understand, but that’s not true. I know what it means to run away from pain and unjust punishment.”
“Do you?” His haughty tone needled me.
“I’m an outlaw in America. Wanted for the murder of a man so rich he thought I wouldn’t refuse him. So rich that the police called it murder, not defense. My life wasn’t worth as much as his.”
Wendel froze halfway through buttoning his shirt. He looked at me with a fierce, protective look in his eyes. “I would have killed him a thousand times for you.”
Shivers rushed down my spine. I believed him, and worse, I liked him even more. Who wouldn’t want a dangerous, beautiful man promising to kill their enemies?
But I couldn’t confess this to him.
Couldn’t admit how much I wanted him to protect me.
“Will the Order of the Asphodel keep coming for you?” I asked.
“I fear only death will stop them.”
13
Isat alone in the observation car, my hand lingering on my sword. Scenery flickered past the window with the dark purples of evening. The rattling of tracks under the train reminded me of a clock ticking down.
Vienna wasn’t far away. I needed to bring Wendel to the archmages and say goodbye to him forever. I needed to forget him.
But I couldneverforget him. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw his face.
Sleep dragged me under.
“Ma’am?” Someone touched my shoulder. “Excuse me, ma’am?”
I jolted awake. A conductor leaned over me. My hand had jerked to the hilt of Chun Yi, and I forced myself to relax.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Vienna. This is our last stop.”
Adrenaline flooded my blood. “Fuck,” I whispered. I overslept.
I sprang to my feet, ignoring the conductor’s protests, and sprinted to our sleeper car. Our cabin was empty.
Wendel was gone.
I ran for the exit and jumped from the train.
Plunged into a crowd, I fought to orient myself. The ceiling of the Vienna train station was vaulted overhead. Iron and glittering glass held the night sky at bay. All around me were people, swarms of people.
None of them were Wendel.
I zigzagged through the crowd. Our train had halted at the rightmost platform in the station, which meant I had a lot of ground to cover.
Had Wendel escaped at the earliest possible opportunity?
