“I did wonder which one of you would have the courage to return,” she said with an arrogance she only used with those she despised. With her attention drawn to the blade in his hand, she added, “If you’re going to kill me, at least afford me the courtesy of seeing your face.”
Don’t let it be him.
The words raced through her mind as the hunter stepped closer.
“Courtesy?” He stood just a few feet away. “Were you so generous of spirit when you took our humanity?”
She could see the sculptured line of his jaw, the full lips that formed the bitter words, just the tip of his nose peeking out of his black shroud. The sense of familiarity was strong. But then their affinity for the night would always bind them together.
“You will show me your face. You will not refuse me.” She drew on her ability to coax and persuade. He would try to fight it, of course, but would he be strong enough to disobey. Either way, she would not rest until she knew the name of her quarry.
“Do not think you can control me,” he sneered. “Do you think I will bend so easily to your will?”
Ivana smiled. No matter how strong, no matter how skilled in mind control, surely she would have an advantage. She had taken his blood, let it mingle with her own, let him suck from her pricked finger. Even if she did possess the strength of will to prevent him from taking her life, was this not the moment she had been waiting for?
Wasn’t death the thing she had been craving?
“Lower your hood.” Her icy tone sliced through the volatile air. The wind howled around them, swirling about their clothes, pushing, pushing in a bid to whip them away. “I will see your face.”
“In this, I will not fight you.” Confidence and arrogance infused his tone. “Perhaps you should know the face of the man come to put an end to your devilish deeds. Perhaps you should look upon the face of the man whose life you have ruined.”
The hunter tugged at his hood.
Ivana held her breath.
No! Not him!
It took a moment to drink in his features, for her mind to accept the vision standing before her. If God had sought to punish her, he had chosen wisely. Very wisely, indeed.
Leo!
His name echoed through her mind, over and over.
Why him? Her hands were shaking, the pain in her heart unbearable. Why not one of the others?
“Well?” He gave a disdainful snort. “Do you remember me? Do you recall the night you created a monster?”
The heavens opened in response; the first few drops of rain suddenly turned into a streaming torrent, saturating them in seconds.
Neither moved.
“Of course I remember you.” How could she ever forget? She had thought of him many times. She had broken her own set of rigid rules. Not that he would remember. “Welcome home, Leo.”
With anger and bitterness etched on his face, he cried, “This place is not my home.”
“It is the place of your birth, is it not?” she replied calmly. “Your rebirth. You are not the same man who came here three years ago.”
Her heart lurched when she thought of how slowly time had passed, how long it was since she had last seen his handsome countenance.
“No! I am not the same man. You destroyed him out of spite or for some other twisted reason.”
“And I am glad of it,” she yelled. She was starting to let her emotions control her. Wiping away the rivulets running down her face, she exhaled slowly.
She would not fight him. She could not tell him the truth.
The time had come.
He could have what he wanted — a chance to rid himself of the bitterness. A chance for revenge. Pulling the ties on her cape, she let the sodden garment fall to the ground.