A BLADE BETWEEN OUR HEARTBEATS

Chapter 3

It was a dagger.

But it wasn't rusted or pitted like the broadswords in the other crates. The blade was violently, impossibly bright, a pale silver that seemed to catch and hold the harsh halogen light. It didn't look old. It looked like it had been sharpened an hour ago.

The hilt was strange. It was carved from some kind of dark, matte stone, shaped into the sleek, diving form of a hawk with its wings pinned back.

Kai couldn't stop staring at it. Her chest felt tight, the air thinning in her lungs. Her fingers twitched at her sides.

Don't touch it.

The thought was loud, a frantic warning bell ringing in the back of her skull. But her arm was already moving.

She reached out. Her fingers wrapped around the hawk-hilt.

The world violently tore in half.

The freezing concrete of the loading bay vanished. The buzzing halogen lights snapped off, replaced by the deep, suffocating darkness of a massive, stone-walled room.

Kai wasn't standing. She was crouched low, the balls of her feet resting silently on cold flagstone.

The smell hit her first. Roasting meat, ozone, and that cloying, rotting-sweet stench of night-blooming jasmine.

She looked down at her hand. She was holding the dagger. Her thumb rested perfectly in a worn groove on the hawk’s wing. The weapon felt like a phantom limb, an extension of her own bone and muscle. She wasn't shaking. Her heart was beating a slow, terrifyingly calm rhythm.

A heavy wooden door groaned open across the room. A silhouette blocked the flickering candlelight from the hallway.

A man.

He stepped into the room. He was tall, wearing a loose white shirt that hung open at the collar. He didn't look frightened. He didn't look like prey.

He looked right at the dark corner where she was hiding.

"I know you are there," he said.

His voice didn't echo. It vibrated. It was a low, resonant baritone that bypassed her ears and rattled directly against her ribs, sinking into her blood.

"Do it, Seraphine," the man said softly, stepping fully into the moonlight filtering through a high, stained-glass window. "If this is your choice, do it quickly."

He opened his arms, exposing his chest. A faint, silver pendant rested against his collarbone.

Kai didn't want to move. She wanted to scream. She wanted to drop the knife and run.

But her body wasn't hers. Her legs coiled like springs, launching her out of the shadows. The air rushed past her ears. The blade came up, catching the moonlight in a deadly arc, driving straight for the center of his chest.

The wet, tearing crunch of ribs parting beneath silver.

His hands coming up, not to strike her, but to grip her shoulders. His dark eyes wide, locking onto hers as the light began to bleed out of them. A deep, muddy red flashing in his irises.

"I wait," he choked out, blood spilling over his bottom lip. "I will wait."

Kai gasped, her knees slamming into the concrete floor of the loading bay.

The dagger slipped from her numb fingers, hitting the floor with a sharp, ringing clang that echoed endlessly in the massive room.

She scrambled backward like a panicked animal, her boots slipping on the smooth concrete until her spine slammed hard against the metal leg of the staging table. She dragged her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her head, dragging oxygen into her burning lungs in ragged, jagged gasps.

"Kai!"

The heavy steel door of the loading bay banged open.

Lilian ran into the room, her high heels abandoned somewhere in the hallway. She skidded to a halt, her chest heaving, staring at Kai huddled on the floor.

"Hey, hey," Lilian dropped to her knees, reaching out to grab Kai’s shoulders. "Look at me. Breathe."

"I killed him," Kai sobbed, her voice a raw, ugly sound. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the phantom feeling of blood slicking her hands wouldn't go away. "I killed him, Lil. He just let me do it."

Lilian’s hands tightened on Kai’s shoulders. She didn't ask who. She didn't look confused.

Kai opened her eyes, her vision swimming with tears. She looked past Lilian’s shoulder. The silver dagger was lying on the floor, the bright blade pristine, mocking her.

"Don't touch that," Lilian said sharply, following Kai's gaze. Lilian scrambled up, took off her expensive navy blazer, and threw it over the dagger, hiding the metal from view.

Lilian turned back to Kai, her face pale and rigidly controlled. She crouched down, grabbing Kai’s face in both hands. "Listen to me. You had a panic attack. The air down here is terrible, and you’re stressed."

"That wasn't a panic attack!" Kai yelled, shoving Lilian’s hands away. She forced herself to stand up, her legs shaking so badly she had to grip the table. "I was there. I felt it. The knife—"

"Is a piece of medieval junk," Lilian interrupted, her voice rising in pitch. She picked up the blazer, wrapping the dagger tightly inside the fabric without letting her bare skin touch it, and shoved it back into the crate. "Kai, you need to pull it together."

"Why are you acting like this is normal?" Kai demanded, her voice cracking.

Lilian slammed the crate lid shut. She leaned heavily against the wood, closing her eyes for a long, terrible second. When she opened them, she looked exhausted.

"Because we don't have time for a breakdown," Lilian said quietly. She looked at Kai, her expression grim. "Higgins just got off the phone. The Vantane Estate broker isn't waiting until tomorrow. He’s upstairs in the main gallery right now."

Kai wiped her face, her chest still heaving. "Okay. So what?"

Lilian swallowed hard. "He wants to see the artifacts. Now. And he said if you aren't the one to bring them up, he's taking the collection and leaving."

"Me?" Kai asked, her stomach bottoming out. "I don't even know his name."

"His name is Damien Nyx," Lilian said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "And Kai... don't look him in the eye."