Page 33 of The Watcher's Bride

If they find out about our nighttime activities, Dimitri will kill us both.

Yet I can’t stay away.

Despite the danger it puts us both in, like an addict unable to resist, I return to Nora’s bedroom each night. She seems as helplessly drawn to me as I am to her. Tonight, however, she isn’t waiting in bed for me as usual.

She sits on the edge of it, fully dressed, her bedside lamp still on, bathing the room in a soft light, her eyes puffy from crying.

She gasps when she looks up, the light somehow making my masked presence more fearsome than the comforting shadows of darkness. She flinches and moves back slightly, wrapping her arms around her legs to comfort herself.

I want to tell her that she doesn’t need protection from me, I would never hurt her, but there’s fear in her eyes and I worry that if I speak, it will only make things worse.

“Did you kill him… did you kill Mike?” she whispers, looking at me as if she’s afraid to hear the answer.

I don’t answer, which only serves to make her more afraid. But I won’t lie to her either.

“Who are you? Why won’t you let me see your face?” she asks, surprising me with the subject change.

In all honesty, I don’t know why. Maybe for fear of her reaction. Maybe because we both need me to be the maskedstranger just a little longer. I didn’t mean for it to go this far. Max was only supposed to be a temporary measure—a way I could get closer to her and learn what my uncle needs to know. But the longer it’s gone on, the harder it is to step away.

She gets up, tentatively walking over to me. I don’t move as she comes close, so close we’re almost touching, her breath heavy and sweet. She looks into my eyes as she reaches up and touches the edge of the mask, ready to pull it up. I gently take her hand in mine and look into her eyes, making sure she really thinks about whether or not this is what she wants before going ahead with it. She’ll know I’m Max, and after that, we can’t go back. I let go of her hand, and my breath catches as she slowly starts to pull it up.

Just as it goes over my chin, there’s a sound from the living room. A window opening. Someone’s breaking in.

Nora’s eyes widen with fear, and I hold my finger to my lips, warning her to stay silent before I head toward the other room, ready to deal with her intruder. The room is dark, which gives me the upper hand as I know the layout of the apartment so well. But with no cover, the man is likely to spot me immediately, removing the element of surprise. However, it seems that luck is on my side today, that and a half-feral street cat. Josef spots the intruder from his perch on top of the refrigerator, and without hesitation or fear, the cat arches its back and launches himself, claws drawn, into the face of the intruder.

“Fuck!” the man hisses in surprise and pain.

I use the distraction to quickly close the gap between us, issuing a flurry of well-placed jabs to incapacitate the man. He manages to fling Josef off him, who scurries away, defeated butnot hurt if his disgruntled yowls are anything to go by. I release my chokehold on the man carefully, allowing him to regain consciousness but giving him no room for escape or for him to fight back. His eyes widen as he takes in what’s happening. Like me, he’s wearing a mask to hide his face. When I remove it, I don’t recognize him.

He’s not one of ours. I don’t know if I should feel grateful or not. “Who sent you?” I ask, my voice low and commanding.

The man doesn’t respond, he simply stares me down, contemplating who I am and why I’m here.

“Was it Quinn?” I press.

There’s the barest flicker of recognition in his eyes that he quickly shuts down.

Shit. Killing one of Quinn’s men is risky. But leaving him alive is even more dangerous. If word gets back to Quinn, it could jeopardize our alliance, or, worse, he could figure out my feelings for Nora and use her against me.

With a sigh, I realize I’m going to have to spend the night far differently than I’d initially anticipated. The man, seeming to realize the decision I’ve come to, starts frantically struggling to free himself from my grip. I tighten the grip I have around his neck.

“Sorry. Nothing personal,” I murmur as I begin to squeeze the life from him.

“No. Please,” he chokes out through strangled gasps.

His pleas fall on deaf ears, and he slowly sinks to the floor. The sound of movement from Nora’s bedroom pushes meto hurry this up and I wrap my legs around his back to get a better hold, I take his head in both hands and twist it until his neck breaks with a sharp crack. The light in his eyes goes out and his face falls slack.

The sound of a terrified whimper draws my attention away from the dead man.

“Nora…”

She’s watching me, her face a mask of horror. I get up to go to her, to explain, and she backs away from me, flinching in fear.

She’s seen the monster behind the mask.

To my surprise, she doesn’t run or scream. “Who was he?” she asks, jerking her head to the dead man on her living room rug.

“He was sent by your father.”

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