52. Konstantin
52
KONSTANTIN
A lthough my lungs feel as tattered as the crumbling rags cloaking me, I sigh when I feel the bargain flit from underneath my skin. My chest expands with a second ragged exhale when she draws the glamour from beneath her skin.
I lean over and kiss my weeping princess, then press the providential dagger into her trembling hands and pivot toward Zaslofsky.
“Swear that as long as you wear the Cauldron’s talisman, you will not harm Isla, or any other member of my family, and the necklace is yours,” I say, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other as I leave Isla’s side to deliver my necklace.
The fool repeats my words and tags my name to our bargain.
A band cinches around my bicep as I maneuver around one dead Volkov, then another. Once I’m within arm’s length of Lev’s father, I slide my necklace off my head and dangle the chain between us. I expect to feel weakened, but instead, I feel like I could take on the world and come out the victor. My healed hands probably have something to do with it.
“Here you go, Zaslofsky. All yours,” I say, dangling the platinum chain in front of his fiery shield.
Like the greedy snake that he is, he whips out one arm and snatches my cursed offering.
For a heartbeat, I think of what Isla once told me about Meriam being crafty. What if the magic lingers? Even if it does, my bargain will protect the people I love from his ambitious coup, which is all that truly matters.
“Will you still be sharing my medallion with Ksenia?” I ask as I crouch to retrieve Vasily’s gun and proceed to sling the leather strap across my chest.
“Not much point sharing with the dead.” Bohdan hums some little victory tune as though my sister’s existence meant nothing to him…as though his squadron of mutineers doesn’t litter the floor.
“She’s not dead.” Isla’s voice is agonizingly hoarse from Bohdan’s inferno.
I squint through the thinning fire encircling Ksenia and her deranged partner, focusing on the slumped woman—searching for the flutter of a pulse or the twitch of a muscle.
“Probably will be soon, though.” Bohdan snuffs out his flames, plunging the wagon into almost complete darkness.
Only the wall sconce at his back remains intact, spitting light over him and Ksenia. Picking up his tune once more, he unclips his gorget and tosses it aside, then tucks his prize into his cuirass.
“No, because I didn’t use iron,” Isla says as I pivot and catch her lambent stare. “Her fate was not mine to determine.”
I’ve lost so much blood that I teeter as I walk toward her. To avoid making a fool of myself in front of the woman I intend to love until my dying breath, I lower my gaze to the floor to map out every last hurdle.
Something clatters—the dagger. It now shines beside her boots. I whip my head up so fast that my neck cracks in time with my pulse. Why did she drop it? Her cheeks, that are hers again, sparkle with tears that wring beats from my heart.
“I thought you never wept, Yegmenka ?” Though I add a smile, my quip merely seems to heighten her sorrow.
The bullet…it must be reaping havoc. I need to get it out of her body before the obsidian powder leaks into her heart and stills it like it stopped Aodhan’s. Perhaps I can blow the blasted thing out with my magic…
She palms her mouth, trembling hard. Trembling is good. Trembling means the igneous rock hasn’t breached her beautiful heart.
“Mimi lied.” Her murmur trespasses the barrage of her blood-stained fingers.
“Doesn’t matter,” I rasp. “The terms of my bargain will keep Bohdan from harming us.”
She blinks wide, wet, violet eyes at me. Gods, I love her. May Lorcan not take her away from me.
“How’s Izolda?” I nod to my fallen sister.
“Sleeping,” she murmurs.
The train shakes. I widen my stance to avoid toppling over the Volkov sons’ carbonized remains. Ugly bastards in life; uglier in death. Every last one of them.
I can’t help but steal one last glance over my shoulder. “Was it worth it, Bohdi?”
“Was what worth it?”
“The death of your relatives. Was it worth my necklace and throne?”
“In the end, only the strongest endure. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Delusional male. Mistaking evil for strength.
When I turn back toward my intrepid savior, more tears are teetering off her lashes and tripping off her still-raised fingers.
I step over Vasily’s brother, circumventing the charred fur hide cloaking his shriveled husk. The instant I reach Isla, I draw her tremulous fingers off her mouth, lace our hands together, and bend over to kiss her.
I love you, Konstantin Korol.
I freeze.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you, she chants.
I pull back just to make sure that her lips aren’t moving. Though how could they, pressed as they were against mine? Say something else.
Your talisman did block our mating bond. That’s what I meant when I said Mimi had lied.
I try to swallow past the ball of emotion expanding in my throat. Again. Speak into my mind again.
She slides her hands to my shoulders and presses her unsteady fingers against my bare skin. Can we kill Bohdan already?
I try to smile, but I can’t. For a long minute, all I can do is blink. But then I give my head a soft shake, fling magic at the lock to keep Bohdan from slipping out the door he is advancing toward, and reach one hand up to cup her face.
I caress her feather tattoo with my thumb, then lean over and crush my mouth against hers, snaring both her breaths and heartbeats. Your every wish will be my every command, Little Witch.
To the tune of Bohdan’s annoyed grunts, I sever the delicious kiss and wheel around. The Faerie mutters as he desperately tries to unlatch the lock. For a full minute, I take pleasure in watching his fingers scuttle and blaze, attempting to fight metal with fire.
When he gives it a kick, I spread my palms and pin him, cheek first, to the door like the bug that he is, and then I move closer, gathering the molecules of oxygen around his body and dragging them away.
His lashes swing upward. Heaving, he splays his fingers wide and shoves, knuckles white against the scorched door. With a flick of my wrist, I sweep the snowflake dagger off the floor and fly it into Bohdan’s neck. He gasps, hastening my next endeavor—emptying his lungs of air.
The vessels in the eye tracking my every movement bulge and split, reddening his crazed stare while bleaching his complexion. I snuff out my magic to tow the shotgun out from behind my back. One of his hands jolts to his neck. I think he’s about to rid himself of his necklace in order to fight back, but he merely plucks out the dagger. Idiot.
I cant my head, sliding a smile onto my lips.
“This first bullet is for Salom.” I blast his kneecap clean off. “You really should’ve thought to manufacture your Crow Tranquilizers out of another metal than iron. Granted, the dual-purpose is convenient. Especially at the moment.”
Bohdan’s chin drops in shocked horror, and then he smacks facefirst into the ashen floor.
“Deep breath, Bohdi . We’re not done.” Little Witch, mind lifting your spell from underneath my sister’s skin?
Vance’s spell… Isla croaks. Not mine. The birthmark, the cracked teeth, the pitch of our voices… I wouldn’t have ? —
Her lack of faith in herself tills my rage. Obviously, I take it out on Bohdan, who’s heaved himself onto his forearms.
“This one’s for my sister. And just to clarify, not the one you planned to coronate.” I shoot out his remaining kneecap.
The blow flattens him against the blackened ground anew.
You just saved my life, Isla. You. Not Vance. You . I clap Bohdan with a gust of wind to roll him onto his back. I want him to watch me end his life.
But first…
“This one’s for my brother-in-law.” I level my barrel with Bohdan’s crotch, sensing Aodhan would appreciate my target.
The fire-Faerie flings out his hands. Though his element gilds his palms, our bargain keeps it from touching me.
Vance is on the train? I ask Isla as I squeeze the trigger and rid the monster of his manhood.
The scream he releases is so shrill, I suspect it just might crack the windows.
Yes. Her feather-light reply is slow to come…laborious, as though it’s costing her energy to push the thought into my mind.
“How?” Zaslofsky chuffs, pants, sobs. “ How ?”
My upper lip hikes up. “How come my necklace is failing you? Because once removed, it loses its magic.”
His eyebrows bump up.
“Don’t beat yourself up. Only the Cauldron, Meriam, and Isla were aware of this.”
I press the barrel into his sweat-slickened forehead, right in between those peaked brows. “This last one’s for my mate.” Right before flexing my finger, I add, “May you be haunted in the underworld by all those you’ve wronged, Bohdan Zaslofsky.”
His skull explodes, drizzling viscous shards over the mass grave fanned around me—and probably onto my trouser legs. I can’t honestly seem to care.
Just in case the bullets weren’t made of iron, I fly the dagger into his chest with deadly precision, driving it clean through the cuirass. Even coated as they are in soot and blood, the diamonds on the handle gleam in the obscurity like cursed relics.
I’m about to turn around to check on Isla when a groan rises from the woman bound to the armchair.
The one who still wears my mate’s face.
The one whose betrayal cut so deep, it managed to nick the organ no weapon could breach as long as I wore my talisman.
I flick my fingers, dragging the necklace off the hunk of carrion at my feet and fly it over to my sister, gliding it slowly down her stunned face, slicking her skin with Bohdan’s blood.
Once the ornament has settled over her murky heart, I chirp, “Welcome back, Ksen.”