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“There must be more to that story.”
“In the infinite wisdom of my youth, I provoked a spy from the Russian Empire and challenged him to a duel. I had been sent to interrogate and assassinate him. Rather than go to all the trouble of knifing him in a dark alleyway, I decided to take care of things in a duel. It sounded more sporting at the time.”
“A duel to the death?”
“No. First blood. But that didn’t stop the spy from trying to kill me.”
I whistled. “Damn.”
“He must have realized who I was, and that I didn’t need him alive to ask my questions. But he was too slow.” He poured ice water into the absinthe, his smile equally as cold. “Conveniently, the dead never lie.”
He had a point. His necromancy could be brutally efficient.
Wendel retreated from me. “Shall we talk about something other than my scars?”
“What happens when your money runs out?” The question had been bothering me ever since he deflected it the first time.
He shrugged. “It won’t matter.”
“Why not?”
“If I’m dead, then I will have died happily bankrupt. If I’m alive, then I can loot what I need from Constantinople.”
Shock crashed over me. “You’re going back?”
28
He smirked like it didn’t matter. “I can’t avoid it forever. My fate is already written.”
“You’re leaving me?” My voice cracked.
The smirk on his face vanished like smoke. “I would never abandon you, Ardis, but I have no choice. I can’t keep running forever. I have to go back.”
“Why?”
“You don’t understand.” His eyes glittered. “I will never be free of them. They own my body, mind, and soul. Death is the only freedom.”
Horror bloomed inside me like a bloodstain. “No.”
“It’s the only way.”
“You don’t think you’re coming back, do you?”
He shook his head, his gaze haunted by shadows. “I don’t know. Ironically, necromancers don’t live very long. My great-great-great-grandfather was a necromancer, but he also died an untimely death.”
I glared at him. “You aren’t allowed to die.”
He walked away from me and stared out the window. “You can’t determine my fate.”
“I’m coming with you to Constantinople.”
He turned back and stared at me. “You can’t.”
“I won’t let you go alone.”
“Why?” He seemed utterly confused by my reaction. “Why would you do this for me?”
“Because we swore to protect each other.”
