Page 5 of Dance of Ruin

The man’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “And…” His voice is barely more than a rasping whisper now. “And you’re part of it.”

There’s a beat.

Then Nico exhales a quiet sigh, glancing past the man and over the edge of the building. His fingers tighten just slightly, and the man lets out a strangled wheeze.

“Such a shame,” Nico says thoughtfully, dragging his gaze back to the man.

“Wh—what is?” the man gasps.

Nico’s lips curl slightly. “That you don’t have wings.”

Then, without hesitation, he shoves the man over the ledge.

I bite back a scream, my entire body going rigid as I hear the faint, fading sound of a strangled cry and the sickening silence that follows.

I whirl, heart hammering wildly against my chest.

I have to get out of here.

I lurch up onto the narrow ledge and start to cat-walk back around to the other side of the metal wall. My bare feet grip the cool stone beneath them, every muscle in my body trembling as I rapidly inch my way around.

Suddenly, my foot slips.

My brain short-circuits.

The world lurches.

Pure, blind terror rips through me as gravity wraps me in its grip and yanks me sideways off the ledge.

I drop, my stomach bottoming out, my pulse screaming in my ears.

…And then suddenly, I come to a jarring stop.

My breath chokes raggedly from my throat, my eyes wide as my gaze snaps to a strong, tattooed hand wrapped firmly around my wrist.

My body jerks violently, my heart stuttering in my chest as I dangle in mid-air.

My gaze drags higher, over the tattooed hand, the muscled, rippling, inked forearm…

…Right up into Nico’s steely eyes—blue, piercing, andamused—as he holds me dangling thirty stories above New York.

His fingers tighten around my wrist, strong and unyielding, and for a second, I honestly don’t know if he’s going to pull me up, or let me fall.

A slow, knowing smirk curves his lips.

“Well, well, little ballerina,” he growls quietly. “It looks likeyoudon’t have wings either.”

2

NAOMI

My entire body jangles.My breath is ragged and uneven, my blood hammering so hard through my veins that I swear I can hear it. But I don’t move.

Nico still has my wrist.

And he hasn’t pulled me up yet.

For a long, endless moment I dangle there, thirty stories ofnothingbelow me. His grip is firm—solid, unshakable—but he doesn’t make any move to get me to safety. Instead, he just…watches me.

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