Page 69 of Bad Moon Rising
It would never be like this with anyone else
The moment she kissed him softly, he confirmed the deadly thought rattling around in his head since the moment he met her. Not only was he completely infatuated with her, but also he knew for certain he’d never be the same without her.
He’d do anything to protect her. Highest on that list was never doing this again. Her magic, although strong, already waned. He could feel the curse gearing up to push him into compliance. He couldn’t allow them anything more than this one moment. No love. No bonding. This was the only option. To keep her safe.
He gently kissed her and then pushed up and off the bed. Rapidly, he dressed, shoving the compulsion to follow the monarch’s orders into the back of his mind.
“You’re leaving?” Her eyebrows pinched together with a pained expression. “Now?”
“Sorry,” he managed to rasp out. “Curse…hurts.” His throat felt thick as he stared at her from the door, and his vision blurred as he stared at everything he wished he could have but wasn’t in the cards for him.
His breath caught as a pulverizing burn shot up his arm to his stomach with the reverberation of“do it”echoinginside his head.
I won’t hurt her.
He pushed off the doorframe and stumbled out of the room to find Flynn and beg he be locked up for the night. Somewhere…anywhere he couldn’t escape to get to her.
Chapter Nineteen
Copenhagen in December was cold as bitter hell during an ice age. At least in December, the sun was up at midday, which helped. Roman yanked his coat collar up to ward off the chill coming off the water. Snow swirled in the air around them as he strode next to Nova toward the modern apartment building in which Peter Kenaz resided. After a lengthy discussion this morning of how to travel with minimum exposure risk for Nova, all concluded his plane remained the safest bet. The flight plan could be tracked. The plane’s movement monitored, but Flynn could control more public cameras—on buildings, traffic lights, and stores—if he used the plane as a base of operations.
They told Gerard they were chasing their target as an excuse for the deviation to Denmark. The rental car Flynn arranged through a dummy account couldn’t be traced.
Roman’s stomach was a mass of hard knots. Last night had been a beginning and an end. He couldn’t dwell on regrets over what-ifs. His life wasn’t his own. The only option for him was to complete a mission one way or another. Doing so this time involved finding the truth. He’d convince them she was innocent and then get her far away from him, out of his life and somewhere safe from all of this.
He didn’t know if he could handle when they arrived at the endgame, especially if it pushed him to finish the job, whether that meant execute her or let her go free when he proved her innocent. The familiar burn of the curse powered up his arm, but its bite stung more than ever before.
“I’m glad Evie lent me this outfit. I love the coat.” Nova snuggled into the furry hood of the downy jacket. Her face peeked out as if making sure he’d heard her. Adorable.
He tried to smile and reassure her, but his brain wobbled from vertigo to the point he had to throw out a hand to grab the streetlamp they passed. The icy cold of the metal hurt his hand through his thin gloves.
He tried to think through the pain but could taste blood in his mouth. Yet, he didn’t know if it was blood from him biting something or simply ruptured blood vessels. A quick check found no self-induced bite of his own tongue or lip. Vessels might be exploding elsewhere inside him as part of the curse’s punishment. Sure, he’d heal, but would it be fast enough? The damage the curse slowly inflicted would slow him, especially if he bled internally. His system needed time to regenerate blood cells.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Nothing. Let’s get this over with.”
“I can try to use magic again if you—”
“Leave it,” he said. “I’m handling it.”
She pressed her lips into a fine line but didn’t push further.
Time ticked slowly in a haze until they were face-to-face with Peter Kenaz. He barely remembered entering the apartment building. Peter’s entire face flushed and then lost color as he stood in the doorway.
That was a clear yes on Peter recognizing Nova. Without a word, he opened the door and waved them inside. The minimalist decor had no clutter and lacked personality.
He and Nova sat on his sofa as, in clipped English, Peter said, “You said you would be back. I didn’t think it would be this soon. Nor did you say you’d bring company when you returned.”
They each sat across from him on separate modern stuffed chairs. Roman’s chair lacked comfort to the point its angular edges dug into his thighs. Sitting was better than moving, though. It kept the vertigo at bay.
“Do you know me?” Nova threw back her hood.
“You paid me a lot to hold onto this flash drive and give it to you when you showed up. Said it might be months, maybe a year before you came back.” Peter held out a small red flash drive, which she took. He tented his hands in front of his face. “You seem different than the person who was here before. Less… I’m trying to put my finger on it. Less detached from life.”
“Did I tell you I planned to use PKC-zeta on myself?”
“No.” Peter’s mouth slackened. “It’s still experimental in that we don’t know how to calibrate the dose. Too much and it’ll wipe… How much do you remember since you took it?”
