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2.30

Morana adjusted her tight, black dress and fluffed her curly copper hair as she walked down the dim tunnel. After she left that idiot Mikhail to return south, she’d flown to her master’s base in the northern mountains, as bleak and desolate a place as she’d ever visited.

It suited Connor Blackman perfectly.

She approached the library Connor had carved out of the mountain and paused outside the entrance to pull the neck of her dress a little lower. Morana didn’t know why she bothered. Connor never noticed her no matter how short her skirt or how low her top. Was it her or did he have no interest in women in general?

Morana squared her shoulders and stepped across the threshold. As always the darkness of the place struck her like a cold fist, sending a thrill through her whole body. How she wished to join Connor in this wonderful, consuming darkness. Soon, he’d promised her. For now he needed her soul force uncorrupted so she could move about as his agent in the wider world.

Connor had carved the library out of solid stone; the tables and bookcases were simply stone he’d left behind and shaped to his needs. Ancient tomes and scrolls covered the gray shelves alongside stranger artifacts like a horned demon skull that still retained eyes which followed her every move. If it had lips she suspected it would have licked them. The entire collection radiated demonic corruption.

She reached out to touch a black gem that pulsed with power, but caught herself before her fingers could brush the cold facets. Last time she touched something in his collection Connor had been very upset with her. She had the scars to prove it.

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Morana strutted down through the rows toward the back of the room, swinging her hips in her best imitation of a cheap whore. She’d tried this trick before and, of course, he’d ignored her like always. Maybe this time she’d have better luck.

Connor sat in a stone chair turned inky black after years of absorbing his corruption. Long, black hair covered his face as he looked down at the blackened metal amulet in his hands. That artifact never left his possession. Morana had asked him about it once and he just smiled and said it was the key to eternity. Whatever that meant.

She stopped a safe distance from him and after a moment he looked up, veins black in his pale face, lips blue as a corpse, and eyes as crimson as blood. She shivered, wishing she had the courage to discover for herself if those lips felt as cold as they looked. “Master.”

“Morana.” The emotionless, precise voice showed her neither warmth nor affection. “How fare things in the city?”

She grimaced. He wasn’t going to like this. “The Unkindness is finished and the death of the Santen family has been discovered.”

Blue lips peeled back from clenched teeth. “The others?”

“Still in place and undiscovered.”

“That’s something, at least.”

“Mikhail, that idiot, destroyed the gate.”

She’d expected Connor to hit the roof at that, but he just waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter. It was just a proof of concept. Now that I know it works I can move on to the next phase.”

“Do you have another mission for me?” Please don’t send me to join Mikhail.

“Return to Port Valcane. I have agents arriving in the near future and they may require your assistance. In the meantime, see about gathering up whatever remains of the gang. I’m sure we can find some use for them.”

“After Mikhail destroyed their base they may not want to work with us anymore.”

Connor’s gaze bored into her. “I trust you to persuade them.”