Love Me to Death (Underveil, #1)

“What are you doing here?” Aleksandra asked, lowering her sword.

Well, that answered Nikolai’s question about the identity of the other Slayer who had visited Stefan’s penthouse. He slid the sword back in its sheath, and she did the same. “I might ask you the same thing.”

“I’m there to see the Time Folder.”

“For what purpose?”

She strolled over to the wall of windows and stared out. Nikolai scanned her body, looking for signs of injury or abuse, but found none. Good. Fydor hadn’t hurt her—at least not recently…or not where it showed.

The bastard. He’d kill him if he hurt Aleksi.

She faced him. “Where is the human? She’s in extreme danger. So are you.”

Nikolai stopped next to a glass and chrome table. “She’s no longer human, and I have no idea where she is. I followed her here, and then the Time Folder took her to another location.”

“Well, tell him to bring her back.”

If only that would work. He was going mad without her. “It’s complicated.”

“Aw shit. Now you sound like a bad made-for-TV movie.”

Nikolai crossed the room and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Why are you here, Aleksi? You didn’t come looking for Elena or me because you had no way of knowing we’d been here. You seek the Time Folder. Why?”

She didn’t answer, so he gave her a shake—a hard one.

She gasped, and then her eyes narrowed. “Remove your hands from me, Niki, or I’ll slice your balls clean off.”

With a curse, he released her and retreated to the other side of the room. He’d never used physical force on her before. What was wrong with him? Desperation—that’s what. He’d searched for Elena everywhere he could think of, including her home and the hospital where she had worked. He was terrified for her safety and sickened that she had cut him off. But he had no right to take it out on Aleksi. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

She slumped into a chair. “It’s okay. We’re both on edge.”

He moved to a chair opposite her, and they sat in uncomfortable silence for a while.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

“What?”

“Your situation… Fydor?”

“Not nearly as bad as yours.” She stood and paced the wall of windows like a large, lithe panther, her thigh-high boots silent on the carpet. “The shit is totally about to go down. Fydor’s gone all comic book supervillain, complete with maniacal laugh and plans to rule the world.” She stopped and met his eyes. “I’m scared, Niki.”

He took a deep breath through his nose. In the centuries he’d known Aleksandra, he’d never heard her say she was scared of anything. “Why do you seek the Time Folder?”

“I believe all of this revolves around what happened between the two kings up there on that mountain ridge. I don’t think they killed each other. I’m here to ask Darvaak to fold back to the fight again and see if he can figure it out.”

Nikolai ran a hand through his hair. “He has already witnessed it. He, as well as the two other Time Folders. All of them say the same thing: the event has been masked.”

“They missed something. There has to be a clue there somewhere as to what really happened.”

“The real question is who masked it and why? There are only a handful of beings with magic that strong.”

“The elves tell me there are only two: the twins Borya and Zana,” she replied. “And both of them have gone missing since that day. One of them must have been there.” She flipped her long, black hair over a shoulder. “A spell that strong requires proximity. Whichever one was there knows what happened because he or she cast magic that hid it.”

Zana, Gregor Arcos’ seer, was capable of great magic, but she’d never been involved with black arts or anything deceptive like masking a murder—at least not that Nikolai knew of. Borya was equally powerful, but worked freelance. Little was known about him other than the Itzov family had called on him from time to time. He’d only seen him once when he was just a boy. His uncle had called Borya for a conference while Nikolai’s father was out negotiating with the wood elves. He shuddered at the memory. Dressed in flowing purple robes, Borya had looked at Nik with his jet-black eyes and ordered the boy removed. “He’s dangerous. I will kill him if he so much as looks at me again,” the sorcerer shouted, the ground shuddering in a magic-induced earthquake under his feet. To this day, he could still hear his uncle’s laughter and taunts about the terrible, powerful seer being afraid of a smooth-faced boy.

“If Borya and Zana don’t want to be found, you won’t find them,” he said, “And three Time Folders have gone back to the event and found nothing.”

“They weren’t looking for seers; they were trying to witness the murder.”

He shrugged. “It’s your money. Suit yourself.”

She covered her face. “I don’t have the money.”

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