Heirs And Hunters

Chapter 25

W I N T E R

Nausea sweeps over me as I struggle to tame my nerves in the presence of Viktor, who sat on the other end of the couch while I occupy the far side of the three-seater. My knees bobbed, our faces remained brick blank, and the moisturing sweat in my palm was a recurring remnant of past events. I don't think I could even muster a proper grip on a weapon with the jitters buzzing beneath my fingers, and yet I sat in Jason Daniels apartment waiting for him to return through the front door like a normal person. Unlike Viktor and me, who had broken into his quarters illegally.

Yuki required medical attention for the muscle he accidentally pulled in his shoulder, and Fleur stayed behind with him in the underground lair to monitor his progress. This roughly translated to: Yuki could have almost died today, and Fleur had to report the field incident to Mr. Addams and Regina Laurent to file the necessary initiatives and derivatives until further notice from Aaron Windsor.

I don't need an email or verbal confirmation to realize that this was no longer a mission of level D. We were probably just a few letters short of climbing the scale to X. This knowledge cages my chest with apprehension. But somehow, my safety is a fear that reclines far back in the recess of my mind.

I had too many people I could lose to this frenzy to maintain my calm: Yuki, Fleur, and even Viktor, whom I despise but don't hate enough to wish harm upon. And in the center was Ivan—the actual man with a target nailed on his back. We as a team could withdraw from the mission, which would end the threats endangering us.

But not Arcane.

He was the nucleus of it all. And In my haste to escape and avoid his company in the past, I had foolishly overlooked the fact that he might be the one person who might need our assistance to navigate this pandemonium while his friends had him to cure and convert their issues.

Which he did without prompting a regard for his personal security. Fury strikes my spine and shoulders at Astor Windsor's incompetence of letting Ivan handle his crises alone. Ivan is far from the type who will allow himself to be dictated or used for a cause. What he does and how he does it—he executes in accord to his will. But that isn’t enough to soothe my rupturing diligence.

He shouldn’t be putting himself in harm’s way voluntarily, not often as he does like he wishes for the risk to reach him and cause pain. Almost as  if he doesn’t believe he deserves to live in peace and be protected.

“Are you thinking about him?” Viktor’s gruff question pulls me back to the present—Jason Daniels’ apartment -waiting for him before he escapes to another country. The ticket on the bed next to his messily packed trolley case suggested a one-way flight to Cape Town.

That wasn't happening until we have little chat before that.

“Thinking of who?” The mixture of anger and concern churning in me clears, and I blink at Viktor. He blew a slow stream of smoke. The tattoos on his forearm—a rose stem and a sword crossed in an X—weren’t an appealing sight. My stomach twists in discomfort.

“Of Arcane,” A drag, a release, and an unpleasant stare my way.

“Who and what I think of is for me to ponder. Don’t fret your mind with my problems,” I crossed my ankles and stretched the sleeve of my red hoodie to cover my fingers. It was a cold December in the city, just ten days remains for Christmas to arrive. As for Viktor—if my response enraged him, he tucked it off and resumed his activity with the nicotine blunt.

“Were you aware that you acquired a street name while we were in Shadow Pearl?” He said after a long pause. “They called you Yuki’s chick.”