Page 129 of Blood & Snow
She freezes, her hand on the door handle.
"You need to understand something."
My voice comes out edged with desperation I can't quite hide.
"No one walks away from me. Ever."
She turns then, finally meeting my gaze, and the terror I see reflected there physically hurts me.
"I know," she whispers.
Her hand rises to swipe away a tear.
If there were other words I could say to help her understand, I would.
But I can't say anything.
I'm just the monster that roped her into this life she vehemently hates.
"Then why?—"
"Because I have to try."
Her voice cracks and she sniffles again as more tears slide down her cheeks.
"Because if I don't, I'll lose them forever, and I can't survive that."
She opens the door before I can respond, cold air rushing in to replace her warmth.
I watch her hurry toward the building's entrance, shoulders hunched against more than just the winter wind.
The lobby door closes behind her, and she disappears into the tower of concrete and steel and for the time being out of my grasp.
The driver catches my eye in the rearview mirror, waiting for instructions.
I could send men up to her apartment right now, could drag her back down to this car and make her understand that choice is an illusion in my world.
But the memory of the terror in her eyes stops me.
"Drive," I tell him.
We pull away from the curb, leaving behind the woman who has become both my weakness and my obsession.
Moscow's streets blur past the tinted windows, neon signs reflecting off wet pavement in smears of red and blue light.
My phone rings against my chest.
I pull it out, seeing Igor's name on the display.
I swipe to accept the call.
"Da?"
"We found a message." His voice is tight with tension.
"Written in blood on a wall in the Tverskoy district. SaysTHE STORM COMES AT MIDNIGHT."
I lean back against the leather seat, processing the threat.
