my aunt’s old clippings.
But Dragan was dead.
My mind reeled. I pulled my knife back, preparing to strike the moment
he came near. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The bastard’s ghost possessed me. Ironically, he was the one who
needed you alive. I don’t.”
None of this made any goddammed sense. “But…I just freed you!”
“What would you have me do, then? Let you drag me back to Bentham?”
He chuckled in the darkness. “Thank you, Savannah. You’ve been useful.
And now, the only thing I need you to do is die.”
With a freakish burst of speed, Kahanov—the real Kahanov—summoned
the blade and charged toward the sound of my voice, lashing out recklessly
like a rabid animal. Before I could call it back, the Soul Knife sank deep into
my leg, and I gasped with pain. But at least it wasn’t the soul-wrenching
agony from earlier.
With a snarl, I twisted away, wrenching the hilt from his hand. Then I
spun and rammed my elbow into his face and sent him flying back.
Blood gushed from the wound in my thigh. Oh, shit.
Kahanov staggered unsteadily on his feet and grinned with maniacal glee.
He raised his hand. “Now this ends.”
The blood still pouring from the knife wounds in my back and leg began
to burn my skin. I looked down, and to my horror, the flowing rivulets began
to writhe and take shape, bubbling and expanding until they had shifted from
trickles of blood into a pair of crimson serpents.
I yelped and staggered back as the two blood snakes wrapped around me.
Panic clouding my thoughts, I tried to tear them away, but the serpents
reared back and lashed out. One sank its fangs into my breast and the other
into my back. Agony racked my body, and I stumbled into the wall.
I seized the one on my chest. It wrapped around my hand, and then it
struck my face with unbelievable speed. Pain shot through my right eye, and