BLOOD WAR

chapter 7

7.1 A World Soaked in Blood

Dedicated to BeautifulNightmare_9

Miles's funeral was held two days after the attack.

Nika donned her finest black skirt, but as she

entered the iron gates of the cemetery near

Konstantin Academy, she couldn't bring herself to

step any further. So while students, staff, and

relatives attended the ceremony, she'd emptied

the contents of her stomach in a neighboring patch

of wilderness.

Hours later, she found herself standing on the

moonlit streets of Lirovin Square.

Thirteen mansions lined the road on both sides,

each with its own unique style. But the one rising

before Nika now was her home, or what would

have been her home, if Markos hadn't so

frequently left her in the care of Lu's mother.

The Gothic building was elaborate and haunting,

complete with sable towers that soared into the

gloomy sky. Windows lined the stone exterior from

low to high, and gargoyles perched in secret nooks

all around. It was a house worthy of its title-

Dimitrovich Manor.

At high midnight, the inhabitants of Lirovin Square

were busy at work. From the end of the cul-de-sac,

where Nika now stood, all the way to the front

gates, the authority and influence of politicians

were being used behind virtually every door. These

were the manors of the Ministers-the most

superior group of Daemonstri in the Western

Hemisphere.

Markos suddenly passed, making urgent demands

into his cell phone. As he briskly carried himself

through the front door, leaving her behind on the

lawn, his voice echoed into oblivion.

He'd been on the phone with his associates for a

small eternity, discussing all the implications of

the attack. What response to give, when to hold a

formal assembly, how to address the public. Same

as always.

"Does he ever stop?" she muttered, slinging her

bag over a shoulder and taking a paved path to the

grand entrance.

After stepping inside, Nika feasted her eyes upon

the elegant interior. Beyond the entry hall was a

parlor, which served as a home for antique

furniture and an enormous fireplace. The room's

vaulted ceilings met at a point in the center, twenty

or thirty feet overhead.

On the opposite side of the fireplace was a stone

wall inlaid with a magnificent arched window. The

geometric design was made of red-stained glass,

and when the light shined through, it gave

everything the distinct quality of having been

soaked in blood.

The manor was quiet. Nothing but the ticking of a

grandfather clock and Markos's faint voice, which

seeped through the walls that separated him from

Nika.

Romanovich cleared his throat and said, "Your

room is this way." Nika regarded the titan of a man,

who pointed toward a flowing staircase at the end

of the entry corridor. "Come. I'l show you."

Being head of security, he probably knew every

angle and facet of this manor like the lines of his

own hands, but it didn't stop Nika from dwelling

on the absurdity that she needed to be guided

through a house bearing her very name.

She followed in silence, absorbing her father's

grand house. The walls were dimly lit with vintage

lanterns, and Nika couldn't help but feeling out-of-

place.

Dimitrovich Manor had been the home of her

bloodline since some Daemonstri king sent

thirteen Serafi families to America. They'd had one

agenda, like any other nation: to reach the ends of

the earth. So those families had expanded the

empire and founded what was now known as the

Ministry.

Romanovich stopped at a door on the second

level, a secret place tucked away in a corner of this

Gothic world. "He had this room made a few years

ago, in case you decided to live with him"

Nika entered slowly, surveying. It was less grand

than those downstairs but in no way humble.

Broad and square, with doors leading to a balcony,

and a large bed centered between two paintings of

distant ancestors.

Live with Markos? she thought. "He honestly

thought I'd leave Konstantin?"

"Perhaps he doesn't fully understand a keeper's

devotion to the Vigil."

She scoffed. "My devotion isn't to the Vigil. It's to

Lu."

After all, the only reason Nika wanted to join the

league of protectors was to be Lu's keeper. She

trusted no one more than herself to defend her

sister-friend.

And a lot of good that did!

She shut down the heinous thought, feeling the

keeper's attention. "What?" she urged, shifting

from foot to foot.

His only response was an imperturbable frown.

Though she wouldn't exactly call him handsome,

Romanovich's face was difficult to ignore. He

might have been chiseled by a Renaissance

sculptor, the sole intention being to capture a

countenance whose only friend was war.

Nika envisioned it with ease-a lone survivor on a

fresh battlefield, grimly observing the smoke and

corpses. It was as if the word warrior had been

invented for him.

"Why were you carrying a gun during the attack?"

Nika blinked. How did he know about that? She'd

been sure to hide any evidence of the pistol,

fearing that Headmaster Kovachev would punish

her for it.

Her bewilderment must have been evident in her

face, because Romanovich explained, "There were

traces of belabane and gunpowder at the site. And

your roommate-she sold you out."

Damn it, Jade.

Nika observed him speculatively, and

unsurprisingly, he didn't balk. She didn't think

anything could fluster this man. Nika, however,

found herself increasingly uncomfortable under

the weight of his gaze. His eyes were forged from

steel and obsidian, harsh and dark as they pinned

her into place. A perfect match for those rock-hard,

perpetually angry features.

"Am I going to get in trouble for this?" she asked.

"That depends on whether or not you tell me the

truth."

She released a long breath from her nose. "It was

me."

He eased back into the door until it clicked shut.

His impressive physique, adorned in all-black

attire, harshly contrasted the white wood and

elegant carvings.

"Why would you feel the need for a gun?

Konstantin has good security."

"Obviously, it isn't good enough."

She waited for him to scowl or return her attack-

something, anything. He wasa monster of a man.

There was no way he didn't have a secret rage

boiling beneath his skin.

But despite his appearance and that gruf, Russian

accent, he remained calm and said, "Did someone

threaten you?"

Nika's breath hitched. It seemed he'd done his

research, though it wouldn't have been entirely

absurd to assume that half of the students and

staff at Konstantin Academy despised her. After all,

she was the world's most infamous halfblood.

"Who?" Romanovich said, his frown deepening.

"There are a few kids that mess with mne

sometimes. I'm not particularly fond of getting

beaten up, so I got the gun. Not to use it on them,

just to scare them of"

"Give me their names."

"No."

He shook his head, and a c***k appeared in that

keeper's mask of his, revealing confusion,

curiosity, pity. Nika forced herself to disregard

them.

"You can't tell Markos about this," she said.

"If you've been harassed, he deserves to know."

"He's just as guilty as they are," she hissed. "None

of this would be happening to me if he hadn't

declared to the whole world that he had a bastard

kid. Sometimes, I wish he'd just given me away

when I was a baby."

Romanovich prowled a step closer. "Don't say

that."

"It's true-"

"It's nottrue, and you know it."

Nika studied the threatening stance, the scowl

etched into his alabaster skin. There it was, that

secret rage. It was almost as if he'd taken her

words personally.

"Your father chose not to abandon you. Some

people aren't as lucky."

"Some people like you?" she wondered aloud.

Romanovich flinched. Interesting, Nika thought.

The keeper slipped back into his usual composed

state and said, "Where is the gun?"

Despite herself, Nika glanced at the bag she'd

discarded on the floor. Romanovich didn't miss a

beat.

He held out a massive hand. "Give it to me."

"Why?"

His black eyes scanned her from head to foot, then

up again. "I'm friends with the investigator

working the case. I can make sure no one else

discovers that you own a firearm. Including

Markos."

"So I won't get in trouble?"

"No. But only if you give it to me right now."

With a sigh, Nika fished the gun from her bag and

dropped it into Romanovich's palm. As he turneddropped it into Romanovich's palm. As he turned

to leave, she blurted, "Why help me?"

He didn't meet her gaze as he said, "Because it

isn't your fault"