The abandoned opera house on the Lower East Side still smelled of velvet and dust, even though no performance had taken place on its stage in nearly fifty years. Moonlight seeped through broken stained-glass windows, casting fragmented pools of color across the cracked marble floors.

  Valeska ‘Valya’ Draganova stood motionless, her mercury-gray eyes sweeping over the surrounding ruins. Moonlight cast a soft glow on her pale silver hair, which reflected it like a blade.

  With a quick, annoyed flick of her wrist, she tucked the two long, dark strands of hair behind her ears while glancing at her watch. The ebony tendrils were a constant, unwanted reminder of a wolf from her past who had once been her lover. The dark expanse of his hair, touched with silver at the temples, offered a striking contrast.

  Time, which she usually paid no attention to, was now another source of irritation. For this meeting, she chose to arrive early. The prospect of a challenging assignment, hinted at by an old client, ignited her curiosity and made her eager to learn more.

  Valya pulled her black leather coat, smooth and cool against her skin, snug around her body as she walked across the stage, its hem rustling softly against her boots with each stride. Dancing had once been her passion. With her tall, slender build, she had once found solace and refuge in the theater’s spotlight. Her captivating performances had enthralled massive crowds, and in her youth, she even had the honor of entertaining royalty across Europe. It was a far cry from her current profession.

  The sound of faint footsteps, echoing from the upper balcony, broke her reverie.

  Valya smiled. “You are late,” she said in a smooth Russian accent. “But then, you always enjoyed theatrics.”

  Stefan Jaranovich descended the grand staircase with his usual relaxed grace, hands clasped behind his back. His coat flowed behind him like a shadow with a mind of its own. The fractured colored lights from the windows cast blues and reds across his face, but his smile, cool and composed, remained unaffected by the broken beauty of the place.

  “My dear Valya,” he purred. “You look magnificent. Eternity suits you.”

  “Eternity suits me better when it pays well.”

  Stefan’s mouth twitched, a sign that hinted at either approval or amusement playing on his lips; Valya couldn’t tell. He moved in closer and circled her as a connoisseur might inspect a rare piece of art. His eyes lingered on her infamous necklace, a macabre collection of wolf and vampire fangs, each one a memento from a kill she considered worthy.

  “You didn’t say why you wanted to meet,” Valya added. “Which means you want something risky or impossible, and you believe only I can do it.”

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  “You still haven’t lost your intuition.”

  “I have lost nothing.” She tilted her head. “What does the Pale Duke want?”

  His eyes darkened at the old title. “There is a creature loose in this city,” Stefan said, pacing in front of her. “Powerful. Unstable. Responsible for the, how shall we say, unfortunate incident in the subway.”

  Valya raised an eyebrow. “You mean the massacre.”

  Stefan frowned. “Such a crude word.”

  She folded her arms. “You wish for me to kill it.”

  “I want you to find it,” Stefan corrected, “and eliminate it. Cleanly. Quietly. Before the councils embarrass themselves and destroy half the city chasing phantoms.”

  “Your informants say it is a wolf.”

  Stefan’s smile grew sharper. “Something close enough.”

  “And what if someone protects this wolf?”

  “Then remove the protection,” he said. “Just as you always do.”

  She chuckled. “Your confidence in me is almost flattering.”

  “Almost?” Stefan teased.

  “Tell me the payment.”

  “I will owe you.” Stefan bowed. “A debt you may call in at a time of your choosing.”

  Valya’s eyes sparkled. “A sire of your age offering a debt? Either you are desperate, or you are lying.”

  “Why settle for just one when you can have both?”

  Their eyes locked, predator to predator.

  “Very well,” she said. “I will hunt your subway phantom. When it is dead, your debt begins.”

  Stefan’s expression changed, a darker note creeping into his smile. “There is more,” he said.

  Valya paused. “Of course there is,” she whispered. “Please continue.”

  Stefan moved closer, whispering into her ear. “After you kill the creature, I want you to handle two complications.”

  Valya remained still. “Which complications?” she asked.

  “Sofia DeReyes,” Stefan said. “And her daughter, Seraphine.”

  Valya’s hand slowly reached for the fang necklace, her fingers grazing the tips. “Two vampires,” she said. “Powerful ones.”

  “One vampire,” Stefan said. “And one hybrid.”

  Valya’s nostrils flared. “Their fangs,” she murmured, “would look exquisite on my necklace.”

  “Indeed.” Stefan leaned back, hands clasped again. “I can’t think of any hunter more suited for the task. And, I believe Sofia owes you for the ‘flaw’ she left behind on your beautiful face.”

  Valya’s hand unconsciously reached up, her fingertips tracing the barely visible scar on her cheek.

  Her eyes narrowed. “And Maxximillian?”

  Stefan smiled. “No. He remains untouched.”

  Valya’s lips parted in a quiet sound that was half-scoff, half-surprise. “A werewolf as powerful as him, and you want me to leave him alive?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Stefan’s tone became silky and cruel. “Because suffering,” he said, “is a much more effective punishment than death. I want him to experience the loss of his beloved wife and his precious child. To feel the world collapse beneath him.”

  Valya’s breathing grew shallow.

  Stefan’s eyes sparkled. “And,” he added, “I know you still desire him. With them gone, the chance to reignite your romance might come again.”

  Valya’s smile spread. “Ah,” she whispered. “Now your plan has flavor.”

  She approached Stefan, her boots echoing across the shattered stage, her necklace rattling like tiny bones.

  “I will find your subway killer first,” she said. “And then…” her fingers brushed a wolf fang at her throat, “…we will see how hungry I feel.”

  Stefan held out a gloved hand. She gripped it without looking away.

  A pact was made. A hunt had begun. And the two predators smiled in the ruins.