Page 49 of Fate and Fury

It was Gadreel’s turn to smirk. “Now who has a weakness for the creatures? You must be hard up for entertainment indeed. The thing’s probably crumbled to dust long ago.”

“Most likely,” Sammael said, but his expression was unmistakably cagy. “I see you’re as obnoxious as ever. Now that we’ve dispensed with the pleasantries, let’s get to business, shall we?”

“We shall,” Gadreel agreed, heaving another sigh. “After you.”

“Well, there’s the matter of…”

The meeting was every bit as excruciating as Gadreel had imagined. The whole time, as the woman at his feet did his bidding, as he lied about the Darkness and pretended to be as concerned about its origins as Sammael, he strategized about next steps. But as their interminable conversation at last came to a close, he had reached just two conclusions.

Sammael was, indeed, up to something. He intended to find out what it was.

And the next time Gadreel came for Dimi Ivanova, she wouldn’t be so lucky. He just needed to figure out a way.

28

ELENA

Elena stood, watching Niko walk down the path that led away from the Vila’s cottages. The wind whipped his torn shirt against his body and swept his hair back from his face, baring his scar. She shivered, thinking of how vulnerable a Shadow could be.

“I’m so glad he’s all right,” Aly said from behind her.

Elena jumped, heart pounding. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“I wasn’t sneaking.” Her friend’s voice held the hint of a smile. “You’re so enamored with your Shadow, a horde of Grigori could attack all over again and you’d have no idea.”

Elena shook her head, her heart still thumping a torrent of uneven beats. She’d tried to be strong for the Vila children—especially Dominika, poor thing—but the truth was, she’d barely held herself together. All she could think of was seeing Niko again, making sure he was safe…and the moment he’d fold her into his arms, like she’d seen the other Shadows do with their Vila.

But Niko hadn’t come to her at first. Hadn’t touched her when she’d sought him out in the square. She’d been back atthe cottages for a quarter-hour before he’d come striding up the path—and when he’d found her, he’d offered her only the same kindnesses he’d extended to the other unwed Vila, all of whom fluttered around him in a way that would have irritated Elena if he’d paid them any attention at all.

He hadn’t gazed at Elena with the same intensity he’d reserved for Katerina when she’d come upon them in the courtyard. Hadn’t acted nearly as eager to come to Elena as he’d been reluctant to leave his Dimi.

Why would such a thing be? Elena had done all that was expected of her, and more. She had always honored Sant Viktoriya. The other Vila revered her. So why did her Shadow not bless her with his regard? Did the fault lie with her?

“He’s always walking away, isn’t he,” Aly murmured as Niko reached the end of the footpath and took a shortcut through the garden.

Elena took a step backward, under the grape arbor that shaded the entrance to the side yard of the cottage she and Aly shared. “What do you mean?”

Aly gave her a tremulous smile. “Shadows are so busy. Always somewhere to go. Someone to protect. Do you ever wish he would stay with you—just for a little while?”

Her words echoed Elena’s thoughts so closely, she wondered if Aly’s empathy had tipped over into the ability to read minds—which was, of course, ridiculous. “I do wish that, sometimes.” She wrapped her arms across her body, holding herself close, the way she wished Niko had done. “It’s selfish, I know, but sometimes I want him to myself.”

It was a dangerous admission. For yes, she loved Niko—but her love for him was bigger than the two of them. It was about what their love could yield, how it could bear the fruit of the covenant and uphold the mission of the Saints. She regretted thewords as soon as they left her lips, worried what her best friend would think.

“I don’t think that’s selfish at all.” Aly twined one of her auburn curls around her finger. “He protects everyone else—his Dimi most of all. But he’s vowed to swear his heart to you. Why shouldn’t he put you first, when the fighting is done?”

The sentiment felt blasphemous to Elena—but it also called to her, resonating in the deepest, most secret part of her heart. “He’s supposed to protect Katerina,” she said, hating the doubtful note in her voice. “If he didn’t, Kalach would fall.”

Aly plucked a half-ripe grape from the vine entwined around the arbor and rolled it between her fingers. It was a wasteful gesture, and one that was unlike Aly, who always chastised the little ones for picking fruit before it ripened. The children used the fruit as ammunition, flinging tiny green apples or pellet-sized berries at each other; Aly just squeezed the grape until its juice dripped onto the ground, swallowed up by the thirsty soil. Watching her, Elena realized her friend must be unnerved too; huddling in the shelter the village maintained for such occasions, a Shadow and Dimi posted at every entrance and the little ones clutching each other to keep from crying, was an experience that left its mark.

“I know this is the last thing you want to hear, Lena,” Aly said, dropping the empty skin into the grass. “And maybe I shouldn’t say it—but I’d be less than a friend to you if I didn’t speak my mind. There’s something odd between the two of them. Even their magic, of late—a Shadow and Dimi alone shouldn’t have been able to hold off so many Grigori.”

“Katerina is the strongest Dimi to walk in three hundred years. Everyone says so.” Elena’s voice sounded brittle. “And Niko is alpha of his pack. He is worthy of her.”And of me.“Else, Baba would never have made the match.”

“Still,” Aly said, “there is a time for fighting at your Dimi’s side, and a time for softer things. Everyone knows Shadows seek release after they fight—be it in drink or the arms of a woman. I’ve never known Niko to find solace in a bottle. If he is not turning to you—then…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but her meaning was clear enough.

Elena’s lower lip trembled. She turned away to hide it, but Aly had known her for too long. She swept Elena’s hair back, her touch gentle. “Don’t worry, Lena,” she said, remorse clouding her face. “Please don’t think of it any longer. Today’s been dreadful, and my imagination’s run away with me. I must be a lunatic, to say such things.”

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