took Nadya with him.
* * *
When Nadya woke, it was on top of crimson snow. She shivered violently, sitting up. After a quick check, she realized the blood wasn’t hers. She was in the forest, in a snow bank, and still alive. She felt terrible.
There was a dark form lying a few feet away. She hesitated before stumbling over to Malachiasz, unsure what she would find.
But whatever had taken over his features was gone now. He was just a boy, pale and unconscious in the cold. He was covered in blood, they both were, but somehow unwounded. Nadya leaned back on her heels and eyed him. He had a soft mouth and his nose was stately. His face was lovely, all the feral, unsettling qualities absent when he wasn’t awake. She wasn’t pleased with herself for noticing, especially not now. As heat rose on her face, it occurred to her she wasn’t sure he was breathing. She had ducked her head down to listen to his chest when his eyes opened, black as pitch.
“Kill him.”
Then she was on her back, the weight of Malachiasz’s body pressed onto her. His mouth opened in a snarl and iron teeth glinted against the light; she could feel the ice of his claws press against her neck.
“Malachiasz!”
His eyes cleared, the black leaking away until there was almost no color left at all but the palest blue. He stared down at her, slowly moved his hands away from her neck. And then like a startled animal he shot off, staggering backwards until he tripped and landed a few feet away. His expression was troubled. He scanned their surroundings, his face becoming more concerned.
“Nadya,” he said softly. As if he hadn’t expected for them to escape, to be alive, for him to be himself.
“Where are we?” she asked, sitting up. She moved to pick up a voryen lying in the snow nearby. She didn’t sheathe it.
He looked up at the trees. “I don’t know.” His voice sounded broken and unnatural.
She felt her heart stutter. “Are the Vultures still around?”
His eyes closed and he grew still. “Well, there’s one,” he said weakly, cracking half a smile as he opened his eyes.
She glared. His smile faded and he leaned back on his hands, seemingly oblivious to the cold. Nadya was shivering.
“If this didn’t work … If we just abandoned our friends…” Nadya trailed off, panic snapping at her chest. If she had just left Anna behind at the behest of this monster she was going to kill him. She might just kill him anyway. She didn’t know what was holding her back.
“Nadya—”
“No,” she snapped, cutting him off. She stood up, clutching her voryen. She pointed it at him. “Give me a reason not to kill you.”
“You would be dead if not for me?” he offered, looking up at her, squinting at the glare from the sun off the snow.
“Not good enough. You would be dead if not for me.”
He nodded, allowing that. She pressed the tip of her knife underneath his chin, tilting his head back farther.
“What I just did was heresy,” she said softly.
“Was it worth it?” he asked, sounding curious.
Of course it wasn’t worth it. Every breath more he spent alive Nadya was disobeying her goddess. They had saved each other but it didn’t mean she should let him live. It was her duty to rid the world of monsters like him. She moved to press the blade against his neck, cut his artery and be done with him. His hand landed over hers, fingers digging into the spaces between hers. His pale blue eyes met her dark brown. He didn’t struggle, instead he bared his throat farther to her blade.
“You could do a lot with blood like mine,” he murmured. “That’s always the first step, you know. Spilling the blood is the hard part. Using it is easy. Using your blood was enlightening; that’s quite a power you have. It could be greater, if you had mine as well.”
Revulsion charged through her body and she pulled back. “What are you?”
Malachiasz shrugged. She watched as he stood, unnerved by how much taller he was than her. Her head only just came to his shoulder. She’d liked it better when he was at her feet.
He took a step closer; she forced herself to hold her ground. Then his hand—anxious tremors gone—was underneath her chin, directing her gaze up to his. She couldn’t help feeling the chill of iron nails graze her flesh, even as his hand was