Page 9 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts (Hospital for Immortal Creatures #3)

Kathrine

The stone walls of the tavern barely contained the crowd of creatures seeking entertainment on this typical Antambazi evening.

Bartenders struggled to keep up with orders for spiced witch’s scotch, waiters squeezed their way between the wooden tables to deliver trays of raw Balkan game, and the music, with its contemporary rhythm borrowed from the human world, amplified the room’s energy.

A tipsy woman in her reptilian form climbed onto one of the tables and began a dance far too bold for the early hour. Kathrine observed the scene with indifference until Lina’s voice compelled her to turn around.

“I don’t usually bite, but if you keep staring at me like you’re imagining me naked, I’ll clamp my thighs around your neck and squeeze until…”

Kristo intervened. “For heaven’s sake, Lina! Leave the poor lad alone. Can’t you see he’s new?”

“And so what? He’s playing terrible tracks!”

“I’m not the one picking the music, ma’am.”

“See, Lina?”

“I see he’s still staring at me!”

Kathrine snatched the glass from her subordinate’s hand. “You’re drunk.”

“And you’re dull! Both of you are dull,” Lina said, pointing her finger first at Kathrine, then at Kristo, before shifting it to the waiter. “And he’s a pervert.”

If Lina weren’t her closest friend, Kathrine would have sentenced her to at least three days in a cell.

She should punish her anyway. But if she did, the Queen would learn about the Chosen’s inappropriate behaviour, and that was another issue altogether – one she lacked the strength to face at the moment.

“We’re leaving!” Kathrine stood and dragged Lina along with her.

The music was loud enough to drown out her friend’s indignant shouts. Unfortunately, it couldn’t conceal her expressive gestures. She screamed and shoved as Kathrine and Kristo took her by the arms. They had to haul her through the tavern, drawing the attention of everyone in their path.

“Hold your head up and walk in a straight line!” Kathrine hissed into Lina’s ear, but her subordinate wasn’t listening. They managed to drag her out despite her resistance.

Outside, it was a typical Antambazi night, and the cold had cleared the streets.

“I’ll take her home,” Kristo said, slipping his arm around Lina’s waist.

Kathrine nodded, hoping this wouldn’t reach the royal court. If the Queen found out about a Chosen’s poor behaviour, she would demand punishment – punishment Kathrine would have to administer herself. And she hated causing pain to her friends.

Leaving them behind, Kathrine walked up the slope, through the inner streets.

Lina had been buckling under the pressure lately.

Being a Chosen wasn’t just a job that required you to perform the Queen’s most horrific tasks – it also branded you in a way that drew everyone’s attention.

People admired the Chosen for their strengths, but in the end, they stared at you like you were no better than a circus performer.

Sevar enjoyed the attention. Kathrine felt… differently.

***

Kathrine

Kathrine disappeared into the shadowy twists of the rock beneath the castle. She crept through the hollowed-out passages, her pulse quickening.

An iron grid with a padlock guarded the secrets at the tunnel’s end. Few creatures knew the catacombs had existed since the time Arius was king. All the tunnels had been sealed and now served as subterranean cells.

She unlocked the padlock with one of the keys hanging from the chain at her waist, her lips tightening in displeasure at the thought of what awaited her on the other side. So far, she’d made no progress in her task with the necromancer.

From the outset, she’d expected that torture would not lead to his submission, but that hadn’t bothered her.

There were other ways to motivate a being.

Chains, for example. An immortal man couldn’t endure life in a dungeon.

Kathrine had stripped him of light, fresh air, freedom, and space – just as the Queen had taught her to break the stubborn prisoners.

Once he’d begged for release, Kathrine would have offered him a deal.

But she was shocked to realise he cared for neither his freedom, nor what they wanted from him, nor the threats they made, nor…

anything at all. He wasn’t the dashing necromancer famed for his charm and weakness for women.

What she faced was a cynical man who revelled in captivity.

By the heavens, she couldn’t even convince him to hear the Queen out! He wouldn’t listen to her offer.

Now, as her boots touched the stone floor of the first tunnel, an icy shiver ran down her spine.

Her encounters with the necromancer left her restless, haunted by a sense of unfinished business – but that wasn’t all.

He unsettled her. They said necromancers could see beyond flesh and bone, past the illusions people cloaked themselves in.

When his dark eyes locked onto hers, Kathrine couldn’t help but wonder what he saw past her elite bodyguard facade.

She lit the faint bulb at the tunnel’s entrance.

Her gaze swept across the yawning darkness of the catacombs, a strange thrill bubbling beneath her skin.

That, too, was his doing. Some days, he refused to answer her questions.

Other times, he was crude and indifferent.

At his worst, he was cruel. And yet, every encounter left her rattled, as if she’d just stepped off a rollercoaster.

And she was starting to crave the ride.

Passing through a series of empty chambers, she pictured him as she always found him: lying on his back on the metal bench, hands clasped behind his head in place of a pillow, bathed in shadows. A metal collar around his neck and shackles on his wrists and ankles.

She had no idea how to approach him today… or ever.

Entering the room, she pursed her lips. Her boots stuck to the floor. He wasn’t there. The chains hung from the metal shackles on the wall.

Kathrine scanned the empty corners, recalling the layout of the underground tunnels. They all led to dead ends, so he couldn’t have escaped through them. Nor could he have exited through the rock, since the padlock was secured.

Maybe he’d jumped into the sea? The only tunnel with an exit opened onto a cliff above crashing waves. The height was significant, and no sensible creature would risk smashing their skull on the jagged rocks below. But the necromancer wasn’t in his right mind.

Damn heavens! She’d let him escape. The Queen would have her head for this!

The light from the tunnel behind her went out, plunging the underground chamber into darkness. Kathrine spun on her heel, straining to make out anything.

He was here.

Her hand moved to her thigh, fingers grazing the weapon holstered there without drawing it. The necromancer had been confined for weeks. He was exhausted, far from his physical best.

Kathrine edged towards the tunnel and peered in both directions. Her eyes were adjusting to the dark, but it offered little help. The tunnel curved, obscuring anything beyond. He had to be close – how else could he have cut the light so suddenly? The switch was inches from where she stood.

Someone grabbed her from behind. A large hand clamped over her mouth while another pinned her back against a solid male body. The necromancer’s breath brushed against the side of her neck. “Got you.”

The skin on her neck prickled.

He drew her closer against him. “Enjoying the role reversal?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, stirring an unpleasant knot in her stomach. “Now that your narcissistic friend isn’t here to beat me unfairly?”

He slid his hand away from her mouth, letting his fingers trace her lower jaw and forcing her head back. Her gaze remained locked with his glowing – almost demonic – eyes in the darkness.

“Hmm…” he grunted. “I think you’re enjoying this.”

“Let me go.”

If the necromancer kept up this game, he’d force her to shift and fight him. Although the Queen hadn’t explained why she needed him, Kathrine had gathered enough to know that, whatever the reason, they needed him in good condition.

His fingers tightened around her chin. “Or what? You boast about having beaten every contestant in the Al-Hatib Tournament. Show me just how dangerous you are!”

She could break free. She could shoot him. Yet, despite the temptation to fight back, she relaxed in his rough embrace. She wouldn’t feed his hatred with aggression. “None of this is personal. Do what the Queen asks, and you’ll be free to leave!”

He let out a bitter laugh. “On the contrary – it’s entirely personal. You have no idea how personal.”

She was missing something, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of asking questions. Her neck began to ache from the position his fingers held her in, but she couldn’t think of a plan to regain control of the situation without seriously hurting him.

“Even if you kill me, you won’t escape from here,” she said.

The necromancer laughed again – that vile, sinister sound capable of unsettling even the dead. “Escape? That’s not what I’m interested in, tigress.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I told you: I want to see what you’re made of!”

“I’m not fighting you.”

“Because I’m not chained up?”

He released her.

She stepped away and pivoted on her heel. Her vision had adjusted enough to make out his broad frame dressed in rumpled clothes. He claimed he wasn’t interested in escaping, but Kathrine didn’t believe him. And she still hadn’t figured out how to lock his shackles back in place.

Lifting her chin, she asked, “What would it take to get you to hear the Queen out?”

The necromancer looked her up and down, as if weighing his options. “How about we go to her, and you’ll find out.”

“You’re ready to listen to her?”

“I am, yes. It’s time you told me what you want from me.”

With a few quick steps, Kathrine reached for the light switch. The dim glow illuminated the necromancer’s face. In the dark, she’d only glimpsed the outline of his features. In the light, she saw the true darkness lurking within him.

He was known for being handsome, but with his messy black beard, dusty clothes, and unsettling presence, he was a shadow of his former self.

“I’m losing patience, tigress.”

Kathrine reached for her holster again, this time drawing her weapon. “After you, then.” She gestured towards the corridor.

The necromancer glanced at her gun with disdain. “If I wanted to escape, I’d have done it long ago.” He raised his hand, revealing a pin clenched between his fingers. “I always carry one. Maybe if you hadn’t been so shy when searching me, you’d have found it.”

He had unlocked his shackles with a pin. Kathrine grimaced. She had searched him thoroughly. No way she’d missed something so important…