Blood War (Book 1, the Halfblood Chronicles)

37.2 | We All Bleed Red

Away, away, away—Nika needed to get away. From the gym, from the crowd, and especially the Ministers, but not from Lu, who shadowed her every step.

"You shouldn't get involved," she said as they walked down a concrete path leading to the school's courtyard. "Our time in this war has passed. Let the adults do the rest."

"The adults aren't the ones who rescued you," Nika countered. "They barely even tried."

A glance through the windows of the buildings that rose around them, and Nika met the faces of curious students. Classes had commenced last night, despite the Ministry assembly, but according to the way both kids and teachers congregated by the windows, no one was in a studious mood.

Nika trained her gaze forward, the lamplights guiding her through the chilly midnight air. "By the way," she added, "my time in this war is just beginning. Next year, I'll be in the Vigil, and it will be my job to fight the Volkari. Why not start now by helping Steele catch Dante?"

"Nika."

When the sound of Lu's footsteps ceased, she sighed and turned around. Lu's silver hair fell like water over her shoulders, and with the halo softly glowing from her dark skin, she truly looked like an angel. Just not a happy one.

"You seem confident that Dante will want to see you again," she said. "Why is he so obsessed with you?"

"You tell me. You spent more time with him than anyone else."

Lu pursed her lips in thought. "He told me he had feelings for you. But the more I think about all the things he's done . . . " Her stare shifted, and an otherworldly vacancy entered her lavender eyes. A shudder ran down Nika's spine. "There is something wrong about Dante Azzara. I just haven't figured it out yet."

Before Nika could inquire as to what Lu was talking about, a pair of sylph-like figures approached from another path. It was the Lazarovs—Lu's mother and little sister.

"Nika," said the former as they drew to a halt, "your father has arrived."

Suddenly, the Ministry and the war and Dante were mere memories in her mind. She excused herself with a perfunctory wave and darted through the network of walkways until she reached the courtyard. At the other end, she made out two shapes, both male, and two keepers flanking them.

She recognized the voice of Headmaster Kovachev, undoubtedly yammering on about frivolous campus concerns. When the man beside him looked up from the pavement, a wave of relief crashed into Nika. It was Markos.

Ignoring the twinge in her side, Nika took off in a sprint, eating up the space between them. She didn't give him a moment to speak before slamming her arms around him and squeezing tight. Markos reciprocated with tender caution, dismissing both the headmaster and the guards who followed.

As the trio's footsteps faded, they held each other. Nika couldn't remember the last time they'd embraced like this. It made her feel like a little girl again. Like the world was made of sunshine and rainbows, void of darkness and hate and pain.

"When they called to tell me what happened, that you were in a coma . . . " he whispered into her hair. "I thought I'd have a heart attack, right there in front of King Gregor."

With her head resting against his shoulder, Nika felt the rapid thump-thump-thumping of his heart, which matched the thump-thump-thumping of her own.

"I know you were worried," she said quietly. "I know how much you care, and how much you love me."

At that, Markos pulled away, frowning. Nika beckoned him to a bench surrounded by perfectly trimmed plants. Even after they sat, she was silent. Her palms grew sweaty as she thought about Ren's words.