Page 93 of Blood & Snow
But it will, whether she wants it or not.
Repeated exposure dulls emotional responses, builds tolerance for horror.
She'll watch more people die if she stays in this life.
The only question is whether she'll break first or adapt.
My phone rings.
Unknown number, but the area code matches Brotherhood territory.
I let it go to voicemail, then play the message on speaker.
"We know who you are," a voice says in accented Russian.
"We know who was with you. Tell your little bird to fly home while she still can."
The message ends.
Nadya stares at me with fresh terror in her eyes.
"They saw me," she whispers.
"They saw someone. Doesn't mean they know who."
But even as I say it, I know it's a lie.
The Brotherhood has extensive surveillance networks, cameras and informants throughout their territory.
A woman matching Nadya's description, seen with me near a crime scene, would be easy enough to identify with the right resources.
I've exposed her.
Brought her into the open where enemies could mark her as a target.
The mistake in that alley compounds into something larger, more dangerous.
"What do we do?" she asks.
I finish my vodka and set the glass aside.
The documents spread across my coffee table contain information worth killing for, intelligence that could help me destroy the Brotherhood before they destroy me.
But the woman sitting on my couch has become a liability I can't afford.
"We adapt," I tell her.
But I'm no longer certain either of us will survive long enough for adaptation to matter.
16
NADYA
My hands won't stop shaking.
The metallic taste of blood and vomit lingers in my mouth, though I didn't touch the courier.
I think I bit my tongue while I watched Xander drive that blade between his ribs or maybe while I was vomiting in the bathroom
