Page 73 of Hellbound

“This is from the Bound Eye. And there is a safe house not too far from here, but I cannot go with you, nor can I force you to follow its path.”

Rinna rubbed the little girl’s shoulders with a shake of her head.

Ksenia paused and chose her next words carefully. “Listen, I know you don’t know me, but I knew of your family through the Drazan sisters.”

At the mention of her last name, Rinna perked up. “How?”

“They were my friends…and we were close. They spoke fondly of you and your husband, teaching them when no one else would.” Ksenia’s hands rubbed together, dried blood crumbling and flaking off. “And I know how they used these coins to get people to safety. Please, take it.”

“It’s been years since I’ve heard from those girls. But they were good people.” She gulped before accepting the coin.

Ksenia emerged from the hidden cellar, her black clothes wet with blood. The hour was late, and the rats scurried openly.

Motion in the distance caught her periphery: two darkened figures were stalking around the corner, their beady eyes upon her profile.

She hoisted her rucksack higher on her shoulder, feigning nonchalance and languidly striding away. Anyone who had the guts to chase her right now was in for a surprise.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, eyes glinting as a frenzied feeling she couldn’t suppress spread.

In front of her, another figure joined the fray. This one, Ksenia easily identified from his silhouette.

His sloped, lazy shoulder line and lean, sinewy build were unmistakable.

“Give me the clue, Kitten, and you won’t be hurt.”

Her blood simmered at the pet name. She ghosted her fingers against Caromir’s hilt, and it sent a steady thrum through her nerves, making her itch for another fight.

“Go fuck yourself, Tivan.” She spat onto the ground.

He drew near, faltering for a moment at the blood spattering the bare skin of her neck and face.

His compatriots closed the distance behind Ksenia, and a flush crept into his face. The pride of performing for his cronies was more important than assessing the danger Ksenia posed.

A mistake she promised he would someday rue.

“Like—like I said. Give me the clue, and we won’t hurt you.”

Ksenia felt the man’s arms behind her before they encircled her upper torso, squeezing tight.

She screamed, thrashed, and kicked, stomping on the man’s foot and causing him to crush her tighter.

Tivan leered as he came closer, pleased with her incapacitated state, and in a sickening move, brushed her hair behind her ear. She spat in his face, and he wiped it with his sleeve, gripping her cheeks in response.

Her senses were doused like a cold bucket of water. Try as she might, she could not prevent herself from being transported to the night of her murder and the way Karsan’s hands held her body down as he stole her very soul.

Her muscles locked up and sweat dotted her upper lip.

Tivan’s grin widened to reveal chipped and crooked teeth as he cast his hand lower.

“Tivan—Enough. You pervert. That’s not what we’re here for, and I’ll gut ya like a fish if you keep going,” the man behind Ksenia growled.

His words snapped her out of her nightmare, and she coiled both legs up against her chest in an instant, kicking Tivan in the sternum. A thin line of drool escaped his wheezing mouth as he keeled over, dropping onto the floor a pace away.

The last goon sliced the bottom of Ksenia’s rucksack, searching for the clue. He spotted the bundle of white linen, and his face brightened.

“You pieces of shit!” she screeched as the man dropped her. That same shoulder of hers kept taking the brunt lately, and she let out a genuine cry of pain.

The three men sprinted away, Tivan slower than the rest, to Ksenia’s satisfaction.