“Lucidia,” he managed, mangling the name.
She frowned at him, deciding what to do. If she let him go, he’d tell Darian that the wolves were helping her. If she killed him…
That wasn’t an option.
She’d only faltered with killing one other person. Robin.
And now, a second. Even if she had a weapon in her hand, she wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger, to deliver the final blow.
It was a horribly disgusting feeling, this weakness. What had happened to the once strong, steely, made-of-stone strongblood that she’d been raised as?
His eyes were open, drilling into hers. “It’s over. You have to kill me.”
She hadn’t expected that, and her brow crunched together.
“Do it. I’ve had a good life. I’m old.”
“No,” she insisted, her eyes flaring in anger.
“If you don’t, Darian will suspect I let you go. You must.”
She shook her head and was transported back to when she was twelve years old, a child being chastised. “No,” she said, nearly begging.
“Yes.”
“I can’t do it,” she whispered.
“You know something?” he muttered, choking on the words again.
“What?”
“When I heard that you broke orders, I was happy. You don’t belong with the rest of us. You never have. Like a lion that’s been caged up for too long, that’s what I saw every time I looked at you. And now-” he sputtered again. “Now you’re free.”
“No,” she insisted. “He won’t punish you - You’ve followed his orders without fail. He won’t-”
“He will. Either you do it or have your wolf friend finish the job. If I make it back alive, he’ll interrogate me, and I’ll be forced to tell him that you’re working with the Brooks Pack.”
Clay stiffened. “Lucidia.”
She shook her head, more frantic. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
“You’ve killed a million people for him, Lucidia. If you’re truly free, then kill just one person for me. You’ll be free.”
“No,” she cried, her voice pleading.
“I’m proud of you. I always have been.”
Lucidia shook her head and Adonis shifted, laying his head on the ground and feeling the sun on his face. A small smile settled on him. He folded both hands, scraped by gravel and the fight, on his chest, and let out a long breath.
“Do it, now, Lucidia.”
She felt tears welling up in her eyes. She hadn’t remembered the last time she cried, and it infuriated her. She wiped them with angry fingers, mixing the gravel dust and feeling it cake on her face.
“No,” she insisted. “I won’t do it. It doesn’t have to be this way.”
Adonis smiled wider. “I’ve imagined it, you know. What it would be like to stop following directions. We’re such good soldiers, always following orders. We were born for it. But this is your shot, Lucidia. You have to wrap up loose ends – I taught you that, didn’t I? I wasn’t the best teacher, but I taught you to leave no stone unturned.”
She’d turned from him now, looking at the trees. The sight of him was bringing up the urge to cry, the emotion like a hot rock in her throat. “You’re an amazing teacher. I was a shit student.”
“You were the best student I’ve ever had the privilege of teaching,” Adonis said, pain cracking his voice.
Just as Lucidia turned back to him, the crack of a rifle echoed out across the road and she jumped.
Her eyes widened in horror as she traced the bullet back, and saw Clay, with the rifle trained on what used to be Adonis Strexos, her trainer and mentor’s head.
“No!” she shrieked, blind with rage. She was on Clay in an instant.
Chapter 9: Refuge
Robin
Robin couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so relaxed. When she woke, every injury, every bump, and every bruise felt like it had been erased entirely. The sun was cool and light as it streamed through the closed blinds. She looked for the cat, but it had moved from its perch, now nowhere in sight.
Robin turned her head and looked at Reykon. He hadn’t moved, but a pillow rested under his head. His color had returned, and he looked like his previous warm, charming self.
A sigh of relief escaped her lips.
She looked past him, and saw Willow and Dag sitting at the table holding mugs of steaming tea.
Robin sat up and stretched. “Good morning.”
Willow smiled deeply and held her hand out. “Come join us.”
Robin walked softly over, smiling as the cat trailed behind her. She pulled out an old, mismatched oak chair and sat.
They’d already poured her a mug of tea.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“How are you?” Dag asked. His eyes were just as mesmerizing as Willow’s.
“Much better, thank you. How is he?” she asked, casting a concerned glance back to Reykon.
“He’ll be fine,” Dag assured her. “He just needs to sleep for a few more hours.”
Robin glanced at a calendar, hanging on the wall. “Is it Thursday?”
“Yes,” Willow said.
A stab of fear cut through her. One day before she was supposed to go to Magnus. One day before she’d be enslaved, and captive to an evil vampire. She counted the hours, and then forced herself to stop, knowing it would only cause her more stress. Right now, that was the last thing that would help her. She needed a clear head and a smart brain.
“Something’s troubling you,” Willow said, leaning forward and giving her a piercing look.
Robin nodded.
“Tell us.”
She didn’t know how much to say. In fact, she didn’t know a thing about these people except that they were witches, and that they’d helped Reykon and hadn’t killed her in her sleep. “How do you know Reykon?” Robin asked instead, shifting the conversation.
Willow and Dag smiled softly at eachother. “He is a good friend. He saved us, actually.”
“How?”
“The witches don’t take kindly to naturalists. They’ve enslaved nearly all of us.”
What is with these people and slaves? Robin thought in a moment of irritation. It was the twentieth century. She’d been under the impression
