Page 103 of Eternal
Something sharp twists in my chest.
No hesitation, no regret, just the quiet, sinking realization that she'shappy.
I watch as she takes her time with her target, savoring it. In a few moments, he's strapped to a chair, leather cuffs, steel bolts, his wrists raw from struggling, his shirt damp with sweat, his chest rises and falls in quick, and shallow gasps.
Is that him? The man she’s been surveilling for the past few days.
It is him, but he’s bigger than I expected.
His empire of liquor and power, his years spent weaving through governments, but none of it matters now.
How do I know this? Because she knew it, she worked for it, and I watched from my screen, trying to piece her together, trying to understand her motives.
Not for her, not really, but for me. She found him, and that’s all that matters, I stay where I am, crouched in the rafters, mask on, concealed in the dark, watching.
She’s fascinating when she works, when she kills.
Voron moves slowly, the tip of her knife taps against his knee as she studies him, almost curious.
“I found your name in a journal, Donovan,” her voice is soft, thoughtful. “A very old one.”
His breath hitches.
Her smile widens. “Surprised?” she crouches, resting an elbow on his thigh, the knife spinning lazily in her gloved hand. “Tell me, Donovan, why was my mother writing about you?”
Nothing.
I see her grip tighten slightly on the hilt, but she doesn’t press, not yet, instead, she reaches into her pocket. A handful of bullets spill onto the floor between them.
Small, matte, each one engraved with a black iris. Her mark, and then, I see his face drained of color. His lips part, his breath coming quicker now.
“Is it—” He swallows hard. “Are youVoron?”
She smiles, “Have you heard of me because I killed some of your old friends?” That smile, teasing, deadly, and yet somehow… better when it’s aimed at me. “Do you know why I leave these bullets everywhere I go?” She tilts her head, watching him like a cat watches a mouse. “It’s not to hide. It’s not to taunt.” She picks one up, rolling it between her fingers, letting it slip through her hand. “I wanted you and the people involved to find me.”
He stiffens.
“I don’t care,” she murmurs. “I’m not scared.” Her smile fades slightly, something colder settling in her expression. “They should be.”
She stands, twirling the bullet once before letting it slip through her fingers, the small clink echoing in the room.
“It’s been years,” she says, almost to herself. “Years I’ve been dreaming of understanding what happened that night.”
I lean forward slightly.
What night?
What happened to you?
What are you doing, Voron?
Why are you doing this?
Donovan shifts again; his voice strained. “What do you want from me? What do you know?”
“I think you know,” she replies, her tone still soft, yet cutting. “A woman died. A very important woman. And you were there when she died. My mother found out... and she received a threat after confronting you about it. But what interests me is this other girl. A young girl who started working for you, disappearing just like that. How old was she again? fourteen? Don’t you see that it might be a problem?”
His shoulders tense against the restraints, his lips twitch like he wants to speak, but the fear. No, the realization holds him back.
