43
The first rays of daylight filtered through the window. Mikhail feared if he kept his eyes closed for too long, he would open them and find himself back in the dungeon he had endured for the past three months.
His gaze lingered on Amelia’s profile, drawing her attention. Their eyes met, and she smiled at him – a smile he hadn’t seen since before he’d hurt her. His chest tightened. Never again. He would never again allow the past to defeat him.
He thought about his revoked sentence. It had been set for one hundred and fifty years and while the walls of his world had been crumbling, all he’d thought about was Amelia. His only concern had been for her well-being. And despite being back by her side, he couldn’t even get a minute alone.
No matter how much he wished to avoid dwelling on it, his mind kept drifting back to the prison – and to the happiest moment of his time there.
The door to his cell creaked open. Mikhail squinted at the light penetrating through the crack, but didn’t bother to shift from his sitting position on the bed.
It had to be one of the guards who would sneak meat to Mikhail every now and then, for he’d been a patient at the Hospital patient many years ago and claimed to owe his life to the healers.
The food he brought wasn’t what Mikhail would’ve consumed, but he did so without complaints. It was his single source of energy.
“Hello, my friend,” a deep voice said.
Mikhail’s gaze lifted from the fresh scars marring the knuckles of his arms and met a face he hadn’t seen for years.
To make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, his eyes traced the bulging figure of the man until they landed on the mask dangling from his fingers.
A mask Presiyan had worn even as he’d arrested him and brought him to this icy prison.
The man stepped closer, his features twisting. “Sorry for putting you through all of this. I had no choice.”
Familiar licks of anger stirred within Mikhail. “You’ve been avoiding me for two months and that’s the only thing you have to say now, Presiyan? How about sharing when you plan to fucking let me go?”
Presiyan shrugged. “I can’t say you’ve been treated well, but you’ve been treated better than every other Prokaliya prisoner.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Mikhail’s jaw clenched. Whatever the visit was about, it obviously wasn’t about his prison discharge. Presiyan had no intention of overturning his sentence.
“Listen, brother…” Presiyan said.
But Mikhail wasn’t paying attention. He was calculating his chance of survival if he fought the Tribunal leader.
He was drained and even if, by some miracle, he managed to get past Presiyan, armed guards awaited outside, ready to take him down before he could even take a step towards escape. Should he still attempt it?
“Something’s happening in the immortal world. A threat I cannot give you details about, but I sense death…” The last words brought Mikhail’s focus back to Presiyan. “My information is scarce, yet it appears an interspecies war is rising.”
Mikhail’s muscles tensed, dread filling every cell of his body.
The reptilians.
He leapt off the bed and straightened to his full height, facing the Tribunal’s leader. “If all that’s true, there’s something you must do for me.”
Presiyan opened his mouth to speak. Mikhail interrupted him.
“Please. For the sake of all the years we’ve known each other, please go to the Hospital and find Amelia – the woman I was with when you arrested me.
Take her somewhere safe. She’s the Oracle, but she’s not fit yet for this world.
The reptilians were hunting her before and they won’t stop now… ”
He was babbling and pleading – it was his single chance to speak to Presiyan, and he had to make it count.For if the Tribunal leader was right, Amelia was in grave danger.
Presiyan’s lips curved into a sly smile. “I suggest you take care of her yourself.”
Mikhail’s breath hitched.
“Now, let’s talk somewhere more comfortable.” Presiyan lifted the mask to his face, the edges clinging to his sharp features like a glove. Without another word, he walked out, leaving the door to his cell open.
Mikhail followed.
Presiyan had taken Mikhail to his private quarters, where he’d been left alone to bathe and change into clean clothes.
The Tribunal leader had been cryptic about the unfolding events but had hinted humans were involved.
All the Tribunal cardinals and agents had been mobilised and on high alert for a potential threat.
On the way back to the Hospital, Mikhail had relaxed, knowing Amelia was with Constantine and safe.
He had planned to give himself a few hours before facing her.
He had caught his reflection in the mirror and, by God, he did resemble a beast – terrible enough to scare her or, at the very least, put her off him for good.
He had intended to tidy himself up first, but as soon as he’d caught her scent in the corridor, his feet had led him straight to her.
His desire for her had flared up, uncontrollable.
The human part of him. The animal part of him.
And above all, that part between the two, which represented his truest self.
Mikhail returned to the present. He didn’t like the story of the temple, nor the results of the genetic tests.
Actually, many things furrowed his brow, especially the part about the stolen mummy.
And that he still didn’t know who was behind his imprisonment.
Presiyan had told him he couldn’t reveal the name.
“I was imprisoned in Prokaliya because I was accused of the disaster in Alberobello, of killing a bunch of witches, and of compromising the secrecy of the immortal world,” Mikhail said.
“I don’t know who framed me, nor do I know why.
Nor why the camera footage shows just me.
Actually, I do know – because whoever provided it wanted only me to look guilty.
It’s someone who has a personal vendetta against me. ”
“And how come they released you early?” Constantine asked.
“Presiyan decided that our friendship was more important.”
Zacharia chose that moment to join the impromptu gathering. “Welcome back, brother,” he said, raising a white envelope in front of his face. “Looks like this is my early Christmas gift for you. You can thank Constantine – it was his idea for me to dig deeper into this.”
Mikhail took the envelope and inspected it. “Why Christmas?”
“Because I expected to hand it to you around Christmas of 2102. Figured that’s when they’d let you out of prison.”
“More like 2172.” Mikhail pulled out the envelope’s contents – three photographs of a naked female body. A headless female body.
In the first photo, the body lay on its back.
The first thing that struck Mikhail was the black nail polish on the fingers and toes.
The second photo showed the corpse from behind, giving a clear view of the tattoo covering the left half of the buttock and part of the back of the left thigh – the Council’s tattoo.
The last photo was a close-up of the upper back, just below the point of the severed neck.
There was another, smaller tattoo there – three interlocking triangles. What Viktor referred to as a valknut.
“The missing body of Kaliope Gazis,” Zacharia announced in a mock-dramatic tone.
The others jumped up from their seats as if scalded, all inching closer to get a better view.
“That—” Viktor grabbed the photo from Mikhail’s hands, observing it with wild, wide eyes. “Fucking pervert bastards! It had to be the Kreiss Hunters!”
Zacharia shared a look with Constantine, then frowned. “The Kreiss Hunters?”
“Several centuries ago, there was an organisation of humans searching for supernatural creatures in the world. They called themselves the Kreiss Hunters,” Mikhail said, wanting to spare Viktor from going through the story once again.
The lycanthrope, however, clenched his teeth. “I’ll tell them about the Kreiss Hunters.” He went on to explain the history of the Kreiss Hunters to the rest of the group, the same way as he’d done with Amelia and Mikhail – what seemed like ages ago.
When he finished, Nyavolski shook his head. “Un-fucking-believable! I’ve never heard of such disgusting practices…”
Viktor’s upper lip curled. “Because I made sure that bastard Konig died in excruciating agony before his twisted ways led to more innocent victims.”
To this day, Mikhail remembered Viktor’s blood-soaked face, twisted with satisfaction and madness, after he had punished Konig. It had been the catalyst for his second fall into Vaka Hara.
“Konig marked his victims with three triangles, which was the original symbol of the Kreiss Hunters. Historically, it was a Viking symbol called a valknut, but Konig claimed it as his own,” Viktor explained.
“Hmm…” Helena rubbed her temples. “How is it possible that this maniac, who was supposedly killed by Viktor, is still alive and active today? Because that’s what you’re saying, right – that he murdered Kaliope? Could he be some kind of witcher? Or perhaps he’s using a time portal?”
“Kaliope isn’t Konig’s only recent victim.
Just before the Tribunal arrested me, Viktor called me to the autopsy room.
He’d been working on the body of a woman with her stomach removed and she had the same tattoo on her neck,” Mikhail said with bitterness.
Even then, he should have done something, but it had been easier to pretend it was just a coincidence.
And how he despised the word coincidence …