Seichan snatched the gun, leaving the blade embedded.
Valya gasped—not in pain, but in shock. She recognized the black handle sticking out of her arm, the cast of its steel. It was herathamédagger, her grandmother’s ceremonial blade.
“You left this behind,” Seichan hissed at her ear. “Thought I’d return it.”
6:42P.M.
Seichan felt Valya go slack under her, but she didn’t trust it. She kept the pistol at the back of the woman’s head, another blade at Valya’s throat. Her heart pounded, demanded that she plunge the knife deep, to end not just this life, but to sever Seichan’s past from her present.
Valya was the last vestige of her former life, a pale ghost that had been haunting her, a reminder of who she had once been. The monster inside Seichan wailed to be released, to be let loose, if only this one last time, to end the long, bloody journey that had led here.
“Do it,” Valya said coldly.
There was no defeat, no fury, not even resignation.
Just acceptance.
Seichan knew this woman was her pale doppelganger, brutalized into who she was as readily as Seichan had been. If it hadn’t been forGray, this might still be her. In this moment, she wondered if Valya’s long pursuit of her had not been solely fueled by revenge, but driven more by an underlying envy.
I escaped.
Still, Seichan knew that wasn’t entirely true.
A monster remained inside her, one that still wailed for blood. She recognized it would never be sated. There was one way to kill such a ravenous beast.
To starve it to death.
She climbed off of Valya, sheathed her dagger, and yanked the rifle from under the woman. Seichan flung her arm, sending the weapon out into the steaming mud. All the time, she kept her pistol pointed, never wavering, never trusting.
She stared down at Valya. The woman’s blood flowed down the stone.
The beast wailed inside her, wanting more.
“I won’t be that monster,” she whispered, knowing she had made this pledge before. She intended to keep it this time.
For Gray, for Jack, for my future.
Still...
She reached down, tugged free theathamédagger, and severed Valya’s other Achilles. She flung the blade far, then fled the poisonous cavern, casting back a final promise.
“But I won’t be a fool either.”
Not ever.
54
May 14, 6:44P.M. ANAT
East Siberian Sea
Gray stood his ground as another section of the icewall cleaved away. It fell like a spear and shattered against the stone. A blast of shards stung him, peppering any exposed skin.
Still, he remained fixed, never taking his eyes away from the nearest throne. Behind him, Jason and the others gathered with Tucker and his dogs. They had safely escaped long minutes ago. The returned group kept themselves armed, guarding over their three Russian prisoners: Turov, his lieutenant, and Sychkin.
The latter continued to moan, half delirious, half sedated, but still in pain.
The noise scratched like nails along Gray’s stretched nerves.
