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He recognized Meg even with what was left of her face. The owner of the diner had seemed protective of Alina. He was grateful.
As she continued to stare, Alina’s face twisted with grief and something else, something that made Luka want to pick her up and carry her away, even if it would be painful. He tugged on her hand instead, leading her to the door.
The sun had continued to rise, as it always did. Death never changed that.
Walking in the light would draw more eyes, eyes that would see the blood on Alina’s legs and hands and hair and shoes. The black shirt was wet with it.
The diner wasn’t far from the safe house. Luka locked the door behind them, but worry filtered in. Ivankov had known all along, it seemed.
The diner wasn’t hidden. The sun was up. Luka should call Giovanni to warn him. It was probably too late for a cleanup crew.
He led Alina into the bedroom instead. She seemed to feel safer there. A shower would get rid of the blood.
Her hand pulled away from his, wrapping around her middle. She collapsed to her knees, hunching forward into herself. And she cried.
Words failed Luka as they always did. For once, he felt no bitterness toward himself. Sometimes, there wasn’t anything to say. Words didn’t make things better.
Only Alina had found her own.
“My fault. I killed them. I should have never—” A sob cut into her words. Her arms shook with how tightly she gripped herself. Her whole body shook.
“I was supposed to die. Today. Back in the alley. Burned in the fire. All the way back with my parents. I was never meant to be here. If I hadn’t been, they would—”
Luka dropped beside her, wrapping his arms around her trembling form. It wasn’t skin on skin, except where his cheek pressed against her matted hair. Pain stabbed along his body, but he thought it was only fair. Let him share in it.
Her body didn’t stop shaking at his touch. The sobs came harder, taking more of her words. “Meg… wrong. Should… begged.” And then her words were gone, and it was only the sobbing.
Luka continued to hold her. Alina curled into his body, as if she could be absorbed into his chest. His arms tightened around her despite the stabbing that made him feel like he was dying. Let him die. If it brought her even partial comfort, he’d endure any pain.
Because Alina was wrong. She was meant to live. Everything else in the world could die, but Luka was going to make sure she lived. Even if she thought it was wrong.
He wondered if she would hate him for it in the end, like his sister had.
Alina stared at the tattoo on Luka’s bicep, her eyes unable to focus enough to make out the design.
His heart beat, soft and steady, under her ear. It was the only sound that drifted in. A while ago, there had been sirens. She’d been making those awful sobs when they’d screamed by. It had only made her louder, and Luka had held her even tighter. Painfully tight.
She should have pulled away. She was hurting him. Hurting someone else.
Her body curled into his instead, trying to become a part of him. Maybe if she could live inside Luka, she’d be safe.
Only he himself was never safe. She’d patched him up twice. More than that if she counted the pulled stitches. While he held her and the day passed, it occurred to her that he might be bleeding from the effort of saving her. She should check.
She didn’t. She stared dully at his arm after the crying finally ended. Her face felt hot and gross, but soon that faded, replaced by the chill that had crept inside her.
Meg and Frank were gone. They were dead because she had been there. It wasn’t fair, but she would have to live with that.
Because even while she was sobbing, she had wanted to live. It was part of why the tears had gotten worse. She should hate herself, and she did, but she still wanted to cling to as much time as she could before death’s stalking steps overtook her.
Even if that killed more Megs and Franks. Even if that killed Luka.
The idea of it had her hands digging into his back, pulling their bodies tighter together.
Luka was a killer. He’d rescued her again. Maybe he’d survive being around her.
Alina didn’t want to be alone.
She let his heartbeat drift in again. Let the dullness take over for a while. She didn’t remember closing her eyes. The sun had faded. Shadows fell around them, with only a small patch of moonlight.
