Page 58 of The Devil's Wrath

I drove aimlessly for what felt like hours, my vision blurred by the constant stream of tears. Eventually, I found myself pulling into the parking lot of a small, dingy bar on the outskirts of town. I needed a drink, or several, to numb the pain and betrayal coursing through my veins.

The bar was nearly empty, save for a few regulars nursing theirbeers at the counter. I slid onto a stool and ordered a double shot of whiskey, downing it in one burning gulp. The bartender eyed me warily but poured me another without comment.

I lost track of how many I had, the whiskey dulling my senses and blurring the edges of my pain. The bartender had long since cut me off, but I didn’t care. As I sat there, hunched over my empty glass, a man who looked to be in his mid-forties slid onto the stool next to me. I glanced over, taking in his dark hair and ice-blue eyes. He looked vaguely familiar, but in my drunken state, I couldn’t quite place him.

“Rough morning?” he asked.

I may have been drunk, but I swore he had a Russian accent.

I let out a bitter laugh. “You could say that.”

He signaled the bartender for two more drinks, sliding one in front of me. “Vodka.”

“Thanks.” I threw back the shot, coughing as it burned my throat. “Jesus. That’s fucking strong. What kind of vodka is that?”

“Stolichnaya.”

“Sounds Russian.”

“That’s because it is,” the man said with a smirk. “Imported directly from the motherland.”

“It burns all the way down.”

The man chuckled as he extended his hand. “I’m Igor.”

I hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand. I thought about giving him my real name, but why start telling the truth now? I had already lied to Theo about who I really was. What was one more lie to a stranger?

“Raven,” I replied, my voice slurring slightly.

“Raven,” he repeated, rolling theR. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

I scoffed, turning back to my empty glass. “I’m not in the mood for flattery, Igor.”

He placed a hand on my arm, and for some reason, my skin felt like it wanted to crawl off my body and hide. Despite the alcohol dulling my senses, a flicker of unease stirred in my gut. Something about howhe looked at me, his blue eyes cold and calculating, set off warning bells in my head.

I studied him more closely, trying to place where I had seen him before. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”

He chuckled. “I’m not sure. Perhaps our paths have crossed before in another life.” His voice was smooth, almost hypnotic.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of alcohol. “No, that’s not it. I swear I’ve seen you somewhere.”

Igor leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “Maybe you saw me in your dreams,krasavitsa.”

I jerked back, nearly falling off the stool. “I . . . I have to go to the bathroom,” I mumbled, stumbling to my feet. The room spun around me as I fumbled for my purse.

His hand shot out, gripping my wrist tightly. “So soon? But we were just getting to know each other.” His voice had lost its charming lilt, now cold and demanding.

Fear surged through my veins, cutting through the haze of intoxication. I yanked my arm free, backing away from him. “Don’t touch me,” I hissed.

He stood from his stool, towering over me. His face twisted into a sinister smirk as he stepped toward me. “Now, now, there’s no need to be rude,Raven. I thought we were having a nice conversation.”

I staggered back, my heart pounding. The few other patrons in the bar seemed oblivious to the situation, too absorbed in their drinks and misery. I glanced at the bartender, but he had disappeared into the back room.

“Stay away from me,” I warned, my voice trembling.

He let out a low, menacing chuckle. “Or what? Will you scream? Go ahead,krasavitsa. No one here will care. They’ve seen far worse in this shithole of a bar.”

He lunged forward, grabbing my arm in a bruising grip. I cried out in pain and fear, struggling against his hold. With my free hand, I reached for an empty vodka glass on a table near the bar and smashed it against his head with all the strength I could muster.

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