Page 29 of Vows in Violence

Not while Nikolai and I are scrambling to find a safe refuge in a city where the faces of our pursuers are unknown. They could be anyone…anywhere. The seemingly harmless mother pushing a stroller, the middle-aged man on the subway, the college kid surfing the sidewalk on a skateboard.

This is our fourth stop today. Judging by Nikolai’s repeated disappearances into the only bedroom, we won’t be staying here tonight.

Especially since that person across the street has been in the same spot, staring at the apartment, all day.

Nikolai comes back into the living room. The air is stale in here, and the couches are the kind that populated every middle-class living room in the 1980s. The thick wooden legs, smooth velveteen fabric, and its repeating pattern of orange trees and rustic barns are familiar and oddly comforting, even though we never had such a monstrosity in the Valachi mansion. The middle of each cushion’s design is faded, evidence of the countless people who have rested in the same spot over the years.

Nikolai tucks his phone into his pocket and removes his gun. I had never paid much attention to him, even though we had spent hours in each other’s presence with only the bars of my cage separating us. I look at him now, trying to figure him out.

He’s leaner than Ivan, but it’s the kind of leanness that reminds me of a big, lethal cat. I’m almost certain that Ivan could defeat Nikolai one-on-one, but it would be a difficult fight.

Ivan.

My throat catches again, as it does every time my thoughts lapse and stray back to him and his possible fate.

No. I can fall apart later. But not yet, not now. First, we need to find shelter. Losing Angel is enough. I can’t focus on getting to safety if I let myself fall into that abyss.

Nikolai looks out the window and then over at me, his gaze skittering over me without emotion. “We are moving.”

I frown. “Someone is outside.”

“I’m aware. Azrael has been tailing us all day. They weren’t shy about lighting up Ivan’s house, attracting all that attention. I’m not sure why they aren’t being more aggressive.”

“I think they are gathering information.”

His gaze is sharper this time. “What?”

I don’t know why I’m having this conversation with him. I was never elected to be one of the deciders in our world, the people who make things happen. But I’ve been around enough meetings and heard enough talk from the men who make decisions to know certain things.

“Whatever their plan was today, something went wrong.”

Nikolai hums, the sound indicative of neither agreement nor dissent. “I don’t think you were a target. Angel was the one who told the Commission to send them. They wouldn’t go after you.”

“But I am connected to a lot of people. We don’t know all of the reasons Angel gave the Commission for Azrael’s involvement.We don’t know the entire list of targets. Either something went wrong today, and they didn’t achieve all of their goals, or they are trying to get to someone else by following me.”

“How unfortunate.” His lips flatten, and he checks the clip in his gun before replacing it in his waistband.

Nikolai’s comment doesn’t make sense, but he doesn’t give me an opportunity to question it. He opens the door to the hallway, and we exit.

When we get down to street level, I’m close enough to see that the watcher is a woman, the delicacy of her jawline as it’s limned by the streetlight giving her away. She is wearing a rain jacket that hides the curves of her body. Her face is expressionless. There is something about the hollowness of her cheeks and eyes that makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

She is a no one—a ghost.

But no…she is worse than a ghost. She is a trained killer sent to stabilize the mess of the Five Families of NYC.

We get into the car that Nikolai hot-wired earlier that day. He leans over, messing with the wires until the engine fires again, and I sit back in the seat as he pulls away from the curb.

NYC is a sleepless giant that is able to be both familiar and completely foreign. I watch the people on the streets hailing cabs, talking on their phones, and walking between thenightclubs and bars. Entire lives right outside of my window, flashing by in a blip of seconds and blurred city lights.

I wish I were one of those laughing girls, stumbling past on their high heels and clutching their tiny, glittery purses. They have no idea of the monsters that populate this city, no concept of the darkness that lies in wait for the unwary.

They’re happy, carefree. But for an accident of birth, that could’ve been me.

We pull up to a familiar townhouse. My heart thumps hard in my chest, but then I pause, my hand on the door handle.

“What is this, Nikolai?”

He doesn’t answer but exits the car and waits, expecting me to do the same.

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