Page 7

They weren’t Kek and Lucas. Merely cheap versions from my drug-addled brain. A poor man’s interpretation of my fantasies.

Drawing my bag up to my shoulder, I pulled out a few extra bills for the furniture damage, leaving it on the table. Slipping out of the brothel and to the street, my lungs sucked in the icy morning air with a bumpy hitch. My legs were shaky, my head pounding as the drugs wore off, my feet traveling toward the train station.

“No direct train?” I frowned at the attendant behind the counter.

The man scoffed, peering at me like I was an idiot. “In the East, you’re lucky the trains are working at all.”

I knew it, but everything in me wanted to avoid stopping in Budapest. It was too close to everything I was trying to avoid.

“Take it or leave it. It’s the only train heading in that direction.”

“Yeah, okay. Give me the next ticket to Bucharest.”

“Bucharest?” The man’s lips pressed, studying me, probably wondering why anyone would be heading toward a hostile country. “Waste of money. I heard it’s almost impossible to get in or out of the border of Romania.”

My gaze leveled on him, and he swallowed, nodding his head, getting me a ticket. I wasn’t used to being intimidating; that was Warwick’s job. But when you lost everything, you had nothing left inside, people sensed it. Picked up on the vibe that there were no lines you wouldn’t cross anymore.

After being handed my ticket, I weaved through the busy terminal, exhausted and hungover. Grabbing a coffee and pastry, I headed for the train platform. An awareness drifted over the back of my neck, twisting me around, my attention threading over the mobs of people traveling through trying to locate the source, but no one stood out.

Shoving a bit of the flaky apple strudel in my mouth, I turned back, springing up the steps of the train car, proceeding down six full cars before settling into a quiet one near the exit, with single seats across from each other and a small table in between.

A few people settled in at the opposite end of the carriage, a family with two young kids and an older couple, but no one who would warrant alarm. Still, unease prickled over me. Like I was being watched.

Glancing behind me and outside the train window, nothing screamed danger or offered a reason for my jumpy nerves. Maybe my senses were malfunctioning? So tweaked out from drugs, they no longer worked right.

Exhaling, I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, feeling the train jerk forward, leaving the station.

Here I go… off to Romania with no plan, no backup, and no idea where they are actually hiding.

I couldn’t wait anymore. I would hunt them down and kill them, no matter what it took. Nothing, I mean nothing, would get in my way.

A huff of air and the awareness of someone sitting down across from me at the table popped open my lashes.

I blinked several times.

No. No fucking way.

“You didn’t even shower, did you?” Her nose wrinkled, gaze rolling over the charred clothes I redressed in.

“What—” I sat up straight, peering around like something would remedy my confusion. “What is going on? What are you doing here?”

“I guess I can’t talk much.” She sniffed at her burned clothes. “But I didn’t spend all night in a brothel on top of that.”

I froze, my lids opening and closing with shock, my intoxicated mind not able to understand what was going on.

The girl from last night, the one I saved… was here. Still wearing the same outfit, her pale skin was healing, showing off more of her freckles that were hidden by makeup last night. Her dark-lined eyes were smudged, but it only sharpened the bright green color. Her tousled hair and disheveled dress gave the impression she had a crazy night.

Annoyance started to overtake my shock. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I hissed again, glancing around like I was going to find a parent or someone who was in charge of this girl standing close.

“Coming with you.”

“Wha-aaat?” I sputtered, causing heads from upfront to turn back, my tone hitting a high pitch. Clearing my throat, I leaned across the table, lowering my voice. “What the fuck are you talking about? You arenotcoming with me.”

She tucked her dark hair behind her ear, peering to the side, the morning sun glistening off her diamond earrings.

Probably from a well-to-do family, which, getting into a school in Vienna, you had to be.

“I’m not kidding.” I reached over, roughly grabbing her arm. “You are getting off now.”