Page 91 of Dance of Thorns

I choke out a cry, hurling myself the last hundred feet down the block, sure that any second someone is going to grab my hair or tackle me to the ground.

I hit the glass back door to the building with a thud, pounding on it and screaming until two Antonov guards inside rush to it and shove it open.

“Right behind me!!” I scream as I tumble into the lobby and dart behind them.

The men pull out their sidearms and duck out, looking up and down the street. They glance at each other, then at me through the glass, still panting, my hair wild.

“Ms. Marchetti?” one of them says gently as they step back inside and holster their guns. “Did you actually see someone behind you?”

“N-no,” I mumble. “But he was right there. I could hear him chasing me.”

The man nods. “Okay, I believe you.”

Hedoesn’tbelieve me. It’s written all over his face, especially when he steps closer and discreetly sniffs, trying to smell the alcohol on me.

“I don’t drink,” I say tightly through clenched teeth.

He winces. “I—of course not, Ms. Marchetti.” He smiles. “I’ll escort you upstairs personally, and we’ll have five men search the surrounding blocks right now.”

I nod, exhaling as I chew on my lip. “Yeah… Please do. He wasthere.”

I know he was.

I felt it.

…I’mnotcrazy.

20

BANE

“Nothing?”I growl, storming through the lobby of my building.

“Nyet, Boss,” Sergey says quietly as he falls into step next to me before we come to a stop waiting for the elevator. “I had ten men tear the neighborhood apart, six blocks in every direction. Not a goddamn thing.“ He sighs. “Look, I’m not saying she didn’t hear something. But…” He lifts a shoulder.

“Keep looking.”

My hands were clenched to fists for the last half hour as I cut through midtown traffic like a maniac.

It's not like me.

At all.

I was never like this with Lark back in high school. I could be possessive, yes. But the level of sheer…I don’t even know what this is…

Possessiveness, definitely. But also something more feral than that. It makes me want to go outside, dig a goddamn moataround this building, and burn the rest of the fucking city to the ground.

I don’t care if therewasn’tanyone out there chasing her.

There could be, at some point.

The elevator arrives. “Keep looking, Sergey,” I growl more quietly as I step inside. “Please.”

“Of course.”

The doors close and the elevator ascends quickly to the top of the building. When the doors open I storm into the penthouse, throwing my coat over the back of a chair as I head for the stairs to the second floor.

I don’t know what I was expecting when this all started. Closure of some kind, maybe. Revisiting the past somehow.