The mask hit the ground with a dull thud, and for a heartbeat I couldn't breathe. That face. Older, sharper, but unmistakable. Angelo's father. Fuck.
My knees nearly buckled, but I clutched Lucien tighter, soothing his cries, his small body trembling against mine.
"Who sent you?" I demanded, my voice came out hoarse, like something was clawing my throat.
He gave a low, humorless laugh, stepping closer, his eyes gleaming with something colder than hunger. "Does it matter? I didn't come here to kill you, girl. I came to uphold my end of the bargain I've made with your vampire."
My stomach twisted. A trap. It had to be. It was too neat, too sudden. But Lucien stirred in my arms, warm and fragile, and I couldn't move. I couldn't even breathe.
"And why," I hissed, "should I trust you?"
