Page 102 of Blood Code

Would there be a new Calliope?

Probably. Kill one of us off, abduct another, and assign her the same name. Probably all within a week.

Sick bastards.

“Xeniya,” Blackwood whispered into my hair. “I’ve come for you. It’s all going to be okay now.”

I winced. The Order would probably schedule back-to-back marathon days for that.

“I am Calliope. Please, they’ll hurt me worse,” I sobbed, my voice breaking against his suit jacket. “Please.”

“No one is ever going to hurt you again.” He kissed my forehead. “I rented you for a year, and I will find a way to keep you forever after that. I promise.”

His thumb traced my cheek, then followed the line of my jaw to my chin. He tipped my face up and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

“You’re going to be safe now, I promise. I’ll make it so.”

I didn't know how to react. Could I even believe escape was possible?

Were his sweet words all lies?

Was this true?

If they were true, what did that mean? Would he free me only to become worse than my other tormentors? Or would he be my salvation?

My safe haven?

I flattened my hands on his chest and closed my eyes, feeling his heartbeat. Then my fingers spider-crawled from his pectorals to his collarbone, tracing every contour of his body, then moving up the thick column of his neck and along his sharp jaw.

I felt the rough shadow of his stubble under my fingertips.

When I reached his cheeks, I encountered cold, hard metal—his black mask. I curled my fingers underneath it and tore it from his face.

I dropped it, and it clinked against the concrete.

Blackwood drew a sharp breath as my fingers moved over his newly exposed face, letting me see him through touch for the first time.

He was beautiful. Sharp cheekbones, a defined jaw, and the faint roughness of five-o'clock shadow.

I wished I could have seen him with my eyes. But that would never happen now. I would never be able to see this man, and even that thought gutted me.

I know I was supposed to be strong and resilient, and push through, but I wasn’t.

I was devastated.

When I opened my eyes, I was met with his beautiful blue gaze. Of course I couldn’t see it. But I could see the color. My vision was a watercolor painting of azure, mixing with cream. The man was a pale white—like pale, pale. Russian pale.

“Kiss me again,” I whispered, afraid I'd miss his mouth if I tried to find it myself.

He did, and when we were finished, he scooped me up in his arms and slowly, confidently walked me out of my prison cell and into the backseat of a car.

After several car rides and two flights, we arrived at my new home.

It smelled of pinewood and fresh snow.

He had kept his promise… for now.

Chapter Thirty