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“Don’t worry, soon it will be over…”

It wasn’t Viktor’s. An icy wave of terror gripped her, freezing her in place. She tried to stay upright, but dizziness overwhelmed her, and she collapsed backwards. Everything went black. When her vision returned, a bright light was pointed at her. Then, a man’s silhouette appeared, but his features were distorted through the glare.

“You’re a very beautiful creature, don’t you know?” His voice was soft, almost tender.

Her instincts fought for control: first, to blink away the spots in her vision; second, to leap up. But when she tried, her wrists and ankles pulled against chains. She was confined to a bed.

The man’s face came into focus – grizzled hair, puffy blue eyes threaded with red veins, tanned skin marked by small wrinkles that hinted he was around fifty, maybe fifty-five. “You’ll be a lovely addition to my collection…”

Amelia let out a piercing scream.

“Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes. Viktor was kneeling beside her on the cold floor of the autopsy room.

“I think so…” She gripped the gurney and pulled herself to her feet, her dizziness fading.

“Your eyes were white,” Viktor noted with a tense expression.

A wave of nausea hit her when memories of the vision returned – the man, the bed, the fear. “Turn him over,” she said.

“What?”

Without waiting for Viktor to react, she grabbed the lifeless body and tried to roll it over. When she struggled, he took over and flipped the manticore face down.

They both saw it at the same time.

“Valknut,” Viktor whispered.

Three interlocking triangles branded the manticore’s neck.

***

The silence in the autopsy room threatened to suffocate her. Amelia could hear her own breathing, but not Viktor’s. He was frozen, staring at the symbol, the light above casting harsh shadows on his tense features.

“I knew I’d find you here!” Helena Nyavolska strode across the room, her sudden entrance making Amelia jump. The nymph wrinkled her nose and buttoned her white coat up to her chin. “Ugh, how can you stand it? It reeks.”

Viktor tore his gaze from the corpse. His throat bobbed. “Hello, Helena.”

She glanced at the table, lips twisting into a sly smile. “Why don’t you do something more productive instead of playing with corpses? Like genetics, perhaps?”

“What do you mean?” Amelia asked.

“I have Constantine’s approval to obtain genetic material from the Temple of the Dead Immortals, but it’s strictly off the books.”

Viktor frowned. “But Constantine voted against it.”

Helena made a dismissive gesture. “Yes, for the Council’s sake. To keep any loose-lipped idiots from blabbing to the wrong people. Get it?”

Amelia and Viktor exchanged glances.

Helena sighed. “I need to assemble a team for the mission. You in?”

“Of course, you can count on me,” Viktor replied.

Helena pointed at Amelia. “And you, Oracle?”

She hesitated. While it was a great opportunity, her chances of finding the ring decreased if she left the country.