“Agree, Katarina. Give me your word and sign this deal with your devil.”
I nodded slowly, the weight of what I was agreeing to hitting me. I was killing two men. I was ordering their deaths. No one deserved it more, but it was still sobering.
“I need your words; I need you to agree.” Massimo waited for me to clear my throat.
Then I spoke.
“I agree to your terms. I need your help; I can’t do it alone. I need you, so I agree.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, and then stole my breath one more time by bringing the hand that held the knife to his neck. The line of blood that I’d spilled was still there. He smeared it on his thumb and brought it to my lips.
“Bargains with the devil are signed in blood,” he said, his gaze fixed on the sight of his blood painted across my lips.
I was frozen there, transfixed by his actions. When my lips were wet with his blood, he sank his sullied fingers into my hair and tugged my head back, baring my mouth to his ruthlessly.
He closed the space between us and kissed me. No, not just kissed me. He savaged me. He bit into my lip, drawing blood, and I gasped. His kiss gentled then, and he slid his tongue in mymouth, caressing it against mine. It was suggestive and wicked. It felt like being invaded by darkness... and I liked it.
It was unholy. It was perfect. Our blood mixed between us, sealing our agreement.
For better or for worse.
It was done.
11
KATARINA
The next day, the morning hymn sent me out of bed at the usual time. The halls were quiet, and there wasn’t a nun to be seen. Usually they watched over the cafeteria while patients ate, but this morning, it was bedlam without them.
I sat with Tatiana. She ate cereal and played with a small corn-husk doll we’d made together. Moving was challenging. My ribs were a colorful array of purples and dark blues.
Dr. Blackwood walked through the room looking harassed. I spied Alonso, but he barely had a second to wave to me before he was striding away.
I shot out of my seat before remembering the state of my midsection.Ouch.I collapsed back into my chair, and Tatiana eyed me curiously.
“Where are you going?”
“I just wanted to speak to my friend,” I muttered.
She turned to look at Alonso’s departing back. She seemed unsettled. All the patients were. The staff might not have announced that something was wrong, but the tension was palpable.
“Knock, knock,” Tatiana said after a moment.
I summoned a smile for her. “Who’s there?”
“Howl,” she said seriously.
“Howl who?”
She bit her lip, her gaze moving to Dr. Blackwood, who was now walking toward us.
“Howl we ever get out of the haunted house?” she whispered just as he arrived at our table.
“Katarina, a word,” he snapped at me.
I jerked at his tone. Blackwood was usually civil—well, civil enough. He didn’t seem to share the perverted interests of the unholy trinity.
Tatiana tensed, and I patted her hand.