Page 231 of The Harbinger
A metallic tap echoed against the window beside my ear, making me jump and fumble my phone, dropping it into my lap.
Jenny’s face drained of color, her skin as pale as a ghost as she looked around the car, her eyes filled with fear. “I knew there was a risk in meeting with you,” she said, my rapid pulse beating in my ears, “but I needed you to know the truth. I needed to know what really happened with Nikolai.”
“He’s dead. Ruslan had him killed at the Remembrance ceremony.”
I picked my phone back up and put it to my ear. “Get out now, Mia.”
Jenny nodded. “You should do as he says.”
One. Two. Three.
“I’m not finished talking to her yet.”
The guy outside the car gave the handle a firm tug, but the door was locked and didn’t budge.
My heart trembled, and sweat broke out along my brow.
“The hard way it is.”
My stomach bottomed out, and the line went dead. “Sacha?” Tears welled in my eyes, and a whimper escaped me.
“I never expected you to fall in love with him. For that, I am sorry.”
I scoffed. Love wasn’t a word that had crossed my vocabulary when it came to Sacha, but it made utter sense now that it was said with such absolution. I couldn’t be without him. I thought about him day and night. My stomach fluttered when I heard his voice. Was that love?
“What did you think was gonna happen?”
The men closed in on the car, their silhouettes looming like monstrous shadows.
“You were always meant to die while Nikolai was supposed to live.”
“What do you mean, I was always meant to die? Does this have anything to do with the mark on my back and their ridiculous prophecy?”
“That prophecy is very real, but the marks on your back are not. Even the best tattoo artist wouldn’t have been able to spot it as a fake.”
“So why do it?”
“We needed something to keep their attention until the Remembrance ceremony.”
My fingers groped for the latch as if my life depended on it. The metallic click of the lock echoed through the car’s confined space, but it offered no sanctuary from the palpable dread that hung in the air. Sacha’s men wouldn’t lay a finger on me, but the thought of her motives made my skin crawl.
“Mia.” She grabbed hold of my arm, halting me from leaving. “My ring before you go, please. I’d like to die with the one thing I have left of my daughter.”
Tears streamed down my face as I ripped the ring off my finger, my sobs echoing through the car. With a swift flick of my wrist, I hurled it toward her, the rounded edges slicing through the air until it struck her squarely in the chest. Without a second glance, I flung the door open and bolted out, desperate to escape her.
The man at the door slipped into my space, a gun pointed at her skull as three more men slipped into the back seat. She put the car in drive, and he forced her down the road, his gun still visible until they turned the corner.
Amidst the chaos, a familiar face emerged from the crowd of Sacha’s men—Vlad. Despite the sea of unfamiliar faces, he stood out like a beacon of hope, a glimmer of light in the darkness.
He could take me to Sacha.
Vlad stepped forward and handed me his phone with Sacha’s name etched across the caller ID.
Chapter 63
Sacha
“Youareeight-thousandkilometers away, yet I’m still cleaning up your messes.”