Page 100 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts

He cast an impatient glance down the street. “I’m sure you’re excellent at it, but I need to go.”

Her lips quivered. “Is it a woman? I bet I can make you forget her in less than two minutes.”

“I don’t want to.” The roughness of his tone startled him.

Gretchen placed her hand on his cheek and stroked it.“Is she like us?”

Like them? Depraved? Finding joy in misery and pain? No. Diana was light. But for different reasons than he’d initially thought.

“It doesn’t matter.” He brushed her hand off his cheek.

“Ah. So, she’s the complete opposite, yet she returns your feelings?” Gretchen’s scepticism was unmistakable.

Constantine remembered how Diana had kissed him, even if she’d had ulterior motives. That sort of chemistry couldn’t be faked.

“Don’t fool yourself, Constantine. We often peer into your world. We observe, we choose… We understand the minds ofearthly beings. You embody their vices and deepest desires. I have no doubt this woman is drawn to you,” Gretchen said, as though reading his mind. “But would she stand by you when it’s time to step into the light? Sins are temptations indulged in the dark. Never confessed by daylight.”

Her words pierced him like a poisoned arrow.

“Goodbye, Gretchen.” He brushed past her and strode down the street.

If she chased after him, he’d kill her. He didn’t know what powers she possessed, but his necromancer’s energy was eager for action and he wouldn’t hesitate to use it against anyone blocking his way.

Following Belphegor’s directions, he reached the fire. As strange as it was to speak to the flames, he didn’t waste time ruminating and repeated the words about his errand to another world.The fire parted.

Constantine’s form faded into weightlessness, with the gloves’ atoms and molecules dissolving into countless tiny particles that followed his consciousness down to Earth.

***

Constantine

Before the full restoration of his physical form, he hurled the gloves at the Queen’s feet and rushed to Diana. When he reached out to her shoulder, his fingers were half-bone, half-raw sinew.

“Are you all right?” His voice was a guttural rasp.

Diana nodded, her eyes widening as she took him in.

“Have two of the Chosen tend to her wounds,” the Queen said. The guards pulled Diana to her feet while two others seized Constantine, now back to his human form, from behind. “She’ll remain safe, as long as you comply with everything asked of you.”

The guards led Diana out of the hall. It was the first time Constantine had seen her so subdued. It unsettled him, raising questions about what had transpired during his absence to so diminish her spirit. Anger simmered, hot and bitter, in his chest and throat.

“I need to speak with her!” His voice cut through the tension.

The Queen glanced at him, her gaze hardly diverting from the gloves already adorning her hands. She had better realise that denying his request would be a mistake – a very costly one. He was poised to make his displeasure plain in less than three seconds if she didn’t comply. Underestimating him, after what he’d discovered about Diana, would be her gravest error.

“Very well…” Her smile widened. “Let’s go together so you can see I mean her no harm.”

Suspicion seeped through his veins as he followed her. The oppressive corridors loomed overhead, carrying the heavy weight of a familiar nightmare. He avoided looking through the windows, but the jagged, menacing shapes of Antambazi clawed at the edges of his vision, a stark reminder that this time, there might be no escape.

He clenched his jaw.This time, things were different.

The Queen led him to a room on the second floor, identical to the one he’d been kept in. Diana lay face down on the bed. Two Chosen tended to the raw, angry wounds on her back. Bloodied bandages were piling in a metal basin on the floor beside the bed, while the nightstand brimmed with more rolls of gauze and bottles of tinctures. A guard stood in the gap between the wardrobe and the bookshelf, his expression a mask of indifference. Another, statue-like, watched from the corner by the window.

When the Queen and Constantine approached the bed, Diana was quick to turn her head towards the wall. His muscles tensed. She could infuriate him even when his concern for herwas tearing him apart inside. As if it weren’t enough that she’d hidden so much from him, now she was outright ignoring him.

“It seems she doesn’t want you here, necromancer,” the Queen said, her voice lilting with amusement. “Just as I suspected.”

Constantine chose not to give her the satisfaction of asking what she meant with the last comment. Instead, he eased into one of the armchairs near the table by the window, positioning himself with his back to the guards.