Page 101 of Wicked Salvation
Anastazya rises from her bed—she’s dressed in a thin nightgown—crossing the space between until she’s close enough for me to smell the roseberry scent of her long blond hair that she has braided into two plaits down her back.
“Silas, I’ve been meaning to talk?—”
I cut her off. “Where. Is. She?”
Anastazya’s eyes dart to the rosary on her desk. “She just left and didn’t tell me where she was going, but—” She takes a deep shuddering breath. “Don’t you see you don’t need her anymore?”
The whole world holds its breath for a second.
I take a step forward, and she shrinks into herself a bit. Everything in me is white-hot and shaking. Rage pressed into my bones like I’ve been hollowed out and filled with fire.
“What?”
She has the nerve to smile, completely clueless.
“From what the tabloids say, you were marrying Eden for money, right? Well, now that she’s called off the engagement—you don’t need her anymore.” Anastazya grins. “We can finally be together.” She smooths down a flyaway. “My family has enough money for both of us.”
I close the last bit of distance between us.
I hold the sides of Anastazya’s head gently, and watch as her smile grows impossibly wide, she grips my wrists. “You’ve done so much for me, Ana,” I whisper.
She nods fervently, then lowers her voice. “At first I didn’t think it was possible for us to be together after everything that was happening.” Her blue eyes are glistening with what I recognize now to be admiration, maybe even obsession.
“It is possible, Ana,” I whisper back. “You did so much for me.” I give her a slow smile. “You pushed Vivienne out of that window for me.” She nods, caressing my hands. “You’ve kept an eye on Eden, and now—I’m single.”
There’s a grin on her face that could light up the whole world.
“But not for long,” I bring her forehead to mine. “Thank you, Anastazya. I’ll bring tulips to your funeral.”
She barely has time to register what I’m saying before I twist her head with such force it breaks her neck. Anastazya falls to my feet, limp and dead.
“You’ve outlived your usefulness,” I say looking at her glazed over eyes, her open mouth. “And you’re fucking stupid to think I’d ever dirty my nameand bloodwith the likes of you?”
Then, I turn on my heel and walk out the door.
You need to find her.
The Spirit’s voice assaults me, as if I don’t already know.
The bond will kill her if you do not find her soon.
My fingers twitch.
The ritual that I undertook to bind Eden and I for an eternity requires two things—proximity and belief. Now, I have neither of those things. At least, when she believed I was her only key tosalvation I had her firmly in my grip, even when we aren’t always around each other. But now?
Now, Lucian’s ruined everything.
And if I don’t find Eden soon, the blood sickness from the ritual will start to damage her in irreversible ways. I want her more than I want her money—only marginally—but I also don’t want her to lose her looks.
I walk out of the Girls’ Dormitory unhurriedly.
The only person who might find Anastazya is Eden if she ever makes it back here—or a nosy neighbor when her body starts to stink. Either one works for me, it’s not as if they can hold me accountable. I’ve already lost all that I can possibly lose.
That’s when I see her.
Eden.
Slipping across the courtyard, bags in tow, like she’s hoping no one sees her.
