I stop two feet from her. Close enough to block, close enough to shield. Close enough that her perfume isn’t just scent — it’s heat.
The air between us tightens. It’s subtle, but electrically charged. She studies me like she’s cataloging a weapon.
“Are you always this subtle,” she asks, voice low, accented just enough to make people lean closer, “or is tonight special?”
Her Russian accent is educated and clean. Not the kind learned from television.
I adjust my stance without thinking. Closer. Protective.
I don’t remember deciding to move as I respond to her.
“You’re already under our protection. And your exposure just changed,” I say, quietly.
One eyebrow lifts. Not fear, but interest.
“I haven’t noticed anything different,” she says.
“You wouldn’t have,” I say. “But you were flagged. And right now, someone else has noticed you.”
Her gaze moves beyond me to the mirrors, exits, and the corridor that just went quiet. Her eyes finally land back on my face. She’s calculating and measuring. Whatever she sees there makes her decision for her.
“Fine,” she says. “But if this is a mistake, it’s yours.”
For the first time, something cracks through her composure. A woman realizing she’s been seen by someone. She exhales once slowly.
“Just so you know,” she says. “I don’t like being handled.”
My jaw flexes once. Good.
“Neither do I,” I reply. “So don’t make me.”
Her lips curve, but it’s not quite a smile.
We move together, her arm brushing mine as I guide her toward the corridor. She doesn’t resist or draw extra attention to herself. Katarina glides elegantly like a lady trained in the art of walking with posture that is perfect. She walks like someone who knows when to disappear — and how badly it can go if she doesn’t.
As the doors close behind us, my comm comes alive.
“Command confirms,” the voice murmurs. “You were right to move.”
I glance at the woman walking beside me — composed, unreadable, already planning three steps ahead.
Whatever she’s running from followed her into Cupid City. Something tells me that I’ve just stepped directly into its path.
As the doors close behind us, my comm comes alive.
“Hawk,” a voice murmurs. “We’ve got movement.”
I glance down at the woman beside me.
Whatever her name is, whatever she’s hiding … whatever she’s running from, she’s been doing it a long time.
Cupid City just got a lot more dangerous.
Chapter 2
Katerina
The velvet curtain falls back into place behind us, swallowing the music and light as if the ballroom never existed. Noise drops away. My heels click once on polished stone, then stop because he stops.
