Page 75 of The Rusalka and Mr. Right

“Tess and Alban will work on breaking down whatever defenses allow him to hide from us,” Minegold suddenly snaps his fingers and the “troops” fall in. “Farrah, Madge, and Sera—you scry and stay in touch. Ian, Kevin, and I will hurry to rendezvous with Ardy, and we’ll see if Janet can help us locate Calder to get any news from him. Everyone keep your phones handy. Text when you have updates. Come on, young man. I’ll add you to the Night Watch messages.”

Like pigeons scattering when someone throws a whole bag of birdseed, everyone rushes and talks, a cacophony that’s better than the screaming in my head. See? Action. Action is good. We’re going to find Marina.

And she’d better be in one piece, or demon immortal or no, I’m going to kick Big K’s ass straight back into Hell.

WATER. SLOSHING RIGHTby my head. Coolness presses against my healing skin, still sore and feverish.

My eyes open and then slam shut. I don’t want to see the spiky black shards of bone that make up Koshchei’s hands—or the glass that he holds.

“We’re playing a dangerous game, you and I,” he whispers, something sinister in every syllable.

I’m silent, listening.

“I’ve drained so much of your energy—and you were already not as strong as you would’ve been if you’d been obedient and taken souls instead of mere life force. And I’m weaker than I should be—feeding so poorly, rising so early. I think I have... oh, a week, perhaps? Yes, only a week before I’m no more.”

A single drop of water falls from the moisture condensing on the glass and lands on my arm. My skin sucks it in desperately, but it’s nowhere near enough.

“But I’ve drained so much of your energy,” he circles back with a dark chuckle, “that you’ll die long before me. I’d say you have a day—perhaps two. I can feed by force, little rabbit, now that I can touch you. But if you should renounce your human lover, start feeding properly again...” Another splash of water, this one enough to make my lips part with a shaky gasp. “You and I could live for years. Centuries.”

I sit silent for a long time, and the fiend hovering over me keeps talking, luring, tempting... Idiot. That is my game, not his. Clearly, he thinks he’s getting somewhere, but all I’m doing is waiting for the condensation to slip off the glass and kiss my skin.

Maybe I can make him mad enough to throw it at me?

At long last, he falls silent, the allure leaving his voice, impatience winning. “Well? Well, worthless little rusalka, so soon doomed to die? Take my offer and live forever. A queen.”

Eyes slit to peep at him from under my lashes, I give him a faint smile. “Yes. A queen.”

“Yes?” Bony hands begin to lift me. There’s a note of trembling excitement in his voice, so desperate that I can hear the rustle of desperation in the single syllable.

“But not yours. I have a king. I have a knight. Several, actually, a force. Your servants are gone—but my army stands.”

Oh, he rages. He screams and shakes and slashes, but when you’re so tired, fading fast—the pain barely registers.

Let him tire himself out. Let him end us both, sooner the better. Kev is young. He can find another—at least for this life.

“Your army? Of what? Pathetic mortals? Humans?”

There’s a hard thump, and Koshchei collapses.

Every time he attacks, he gets weaker. And if he’s weak enough, he’ll feed from me. He’ll feed until there’s nothing left, and then... He’ll die.

There’s a strange satisfaction in knowing I can beat him, even if it means sacrificing myself.

Hands remain balled into spiny fists in his lap, and his foul breath comes in harsh gasps when he speaks again. “Your mortals won’t be able to reach us here, my dear. We are already heading out to sea.”

CALDER AND JANET SITin a boat that looks way too big for the tiny river that it’s on.

And I’m pretty sure it’s a ghost boat. It doesn’t look... substantial.

Then again... I’m currently riding around on a cop who turned himself into the biggest black horse I’ve ever seen, something roughly the size of a bulldozer with glowing red eyes and mist rolling off its body.

In Pine Ridge, when they say spooky season—they mean it.

“This river flows past the Chenango and meets up with the Mohawk River. If he wants to take her out to sea, he’ll have to take the Mohawk to the Hudson, then out to the Atlantic.”

“But he’s a demon. Why wouldn’t he just poof the boat right over to the Baltic Sea or the North Siberian Sea or whatever?” I demand. Underneath me, Cop Horse whinnies in agreement. At least, I think it's an agreement.

We’ve been running the riverbank all night. We found Marina’s phone bag by the river, halfway between town and Onyx Farms. Knowing that she didn’t head toward town, we followed the river in the other direction.

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