ducked and twisted, plowing onward. His fangs pinched his bottom lip as he hauled ass to safety. A doorway loomed ahead, one that should be shielded from the nest above.
A new barrage of gunfire clattered and echoed in the space between the wasted buildings. The sound hurt his head and disoriented him. Nikolai couldn’t place its location.
And then searing fire tore into his shoulder, the side of his neck, the back of his thigh.
Fuck, somehow they’d gotten behind him. And no one was covering his six. Because he hadn’t let them.
He was hit. Hit bad.
Howling more from the agony of defeat than the pain of the tainted bullets, poisoned with the blood of the dead, Nikolai flashed down the side street before the blood loss and infection drained his powers, his life. He pushed himself to keeping moving and lost track of the distance he covered as he retreated from the abandoned industrial quarter toward the general direction of Moscow’s city center.
His breathing was loud in his own ears, a mix of a rasp and a gurgle that told him the neck wound was critical.
Son of a bitch. Mikhail was going to kill him. Assuming he survived.
The poison hit his heart as the industrial area gave way to apartment buildings and shops. He crashed against the brick wall of a building and his vision blurred and twisted. The world went sideways and he hit the ground so hard it rattled his brain in his skull. Between the blood loss and the poison, moving took herculean effort, but he had to get off the street.
Gun still tight in his grip, he dragged himself on his forearms, pulling the dead weight of his body toward a gravel path that ran alongside the building. His muscles screamed, sweat stung his eyes and his gasping breath scorched his throat. A thirst more intense than any he’d ever felt made his tongue feel thick and his fangs ache.
As the building’s shadow covered him, Nikolai could move no more. He hoped the kingdom he’d refused to lead these long months would survive the succession crisis his death would leave behind.
Regrets. Oh, so many regrets.
Bitter cold bent his bones until he was sure they would snap. He shivered, sending his teeth and fangs clattering against one another. How wonderful it would be to have the warmth and companionship of a mate right now.
He had not strength enough to even chide himself for the thought.
A black fog descended, stealing first his sight, then his hearing. Tortured thoughts remained to the end until, mercifully, they too faded to nothing. Just like him.
Chapter Two
One question kept repeating itself in Kate Bordessa’s mind: What the hell am I doing here?
She stuffed her gloved hands in the pockets of her parka and ducked her face against the cold night air. It was one-thirty in the morning and the street was empty, except for her. Unanswered questions and a sense of anxiety had kept her awake until she’d finally given up on sleep, thrown on some clothes and hopped the underground metro at the university. She thought walking around Red Square and seeing the cathedrals, palaces and towers there would cheer her, would remind her why she had come to study in Moscow. But not even the vivid colors of Saint Basil’s or the festively lit outline of the GUM department store had made her feel any less like something wasn’t right.
So she’d walked, hoping physical fatigue would drive away the unfounded anxiety. Though she remained firm on the reason she’d fled the States—her parents wanted a destiny for her she could never accept—Kate couldn’t escape the restlessness that always left her feeling she wasn’t doing something she was supposed to do. Under the surface, a sense of unease, as if she’d forgotten an important appointment or a commitment, nagged at her. In quiet moments, a gloom of foreboding descended over her, setting her heart to racing and making her momentarily sure some tragedy had unfurled—and she might’ve stopped it.
It was all making her crazy. And homesick. Maybe it was her looming birthday that was causing her unease. Though you wouldn’t think turning twenty-one would be traumatic.
Pausing at an intersection, Kate swept her gaze in a circle around her. The can of mace in her pocket boosted her confidence to be out here, but a woman still had to stay aware of her surroundings. Finally, the light changed and she tugged her hood snug to her face as she crossed the street. Shops, businesses and office buildings gave way to apartment buildings. She didn’t know this neighborhood well, but she was familiar enough with the city after living here for five months to be certain if she kept going a few blocks, she’d come to a metro stop on the line she needed. Hell, maybe she’d even pass the closest one and keep walking until the one after.
A couple tucked against each other passed her on the sidewalk. Their low voices and laughs heightened her loneliness, unleashing a deep-seated fear she’d never find that sense of belonging others seemed to develop so effortlessly. It was as if she was a square peg in the round hole of life. Never had a boyfriend. Barely been kissed. Parents urging her to join them in something she couldn’t fathom. And the closer it got to her birthday next Friday, the more acute all these confusing, ridiculous feelings became. It was almost as if a clock was ticking down to…something? What, she just didn’t know.
Suddenly, her scalp prickled and the hair on her neck and arms rose. Her stomach clenched and flip-flopped. What the hell?
Sure someone was stalking her, Kate shook her hood off and whirled, but the street was empty. Still, the ominous feeling was so convincing, it took every ounce of willpower to restrain her desire to run..
Finally, she stopped trying to resist, and broke out into a jog, relief flooding into her when the squat red M of the metro came into view up ahead. Gloved hand grasping the mace, she passed one apartment building, then another,.
“Shit.” Her ankle twisted off the edge of a broken curb she hadn’t noticed. Thankfully, the height of her boot prevented her from rolling it enough to cause a sprain. Damn thing still hurt, though. She paused and leaned a hand against the corner of the building, her exhalations fogging on the cold air.
Take a freaking breath, Kate.
She rotated her foot and stretched her ankle, reassuring herself it was fine. She just needed to go home and go to bed. Everything would look better in the morning.
The breeze kicked up and…Kate froze. What was that smell? Something spicy and warm. She couldn’t begin to place it, but all at once she forgot her panic. Swallowing the saliva pooling on her tongue, she inhaled more of that enticing smell like a lioness scenting the most delicious meal on the wind. She looked up at the apartments, but everything was dark. Behind her, the street remained empty. To her left, a driveway disappeared into darkness…
And the darkness concealed the source of that scent.
She wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she did.
One step. Another. Lured into the darkness. By something that called to her very soul, that appealed to her on a primal level. She had to…what? She wasn’t sure. Find it? See it?
Taste it.
The urges were so instinctual she didn’t even think about questioning them.
Shaking off the odd haze, Kate removed her smartphone from her jeans pocket and woke up the screen to provide a bit of light. A series of selections turned on her flashlight application and cast a brighter, broader illumination.
Boots. The first thing she saw was a pair of big black boots.
She gasped so hard and unexpectedly, the cold hurt her throat.
The man attached to those boots was huge, unmoving, and facedown in the dirt and stones of the driveway.
Without question, he was the source of the scent.
* * *
She had the oddest sensation of being sucked through a tunnel, or of seeing her life replayed in fast-forward behind her eyes. And, either way, the end led her here. To this moment. To this