Foul Heart Huntsman (Foul Lady Fortune, #2)

by Chloe Gong

She missed him. Terribly. She had thought him a complete menace while he was here, complained to his face that he was a terror in her space, and he had only ever grinned in return, making an effort to bring her food or smooth her hair down when she was busy writing something.

She wanted to love more than her city; she wanted the love that had been wholly hers for that gasp of a moment. Given the choice between the two, she had her suspicions about which one she would run toward.

THE WESTERNERS ARE NOT OUR ENEMY! WE MUST COME TOGETHER AGAINST THE JAPANESE EMPIRE! Classic propaganda.

“You know, Oliver”—Celia slapped her hand down, leaning forward—“it is really hard to provoke my temper, but somehow you are incredibly good at it.” The faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “I have missed you quite fiercely.”

Phoebe was… He didn’t even know how to describe Phoebe. An ever-expanding supernova. A hurricane that changed worlds and remade them.

Her head snapped up. Her ringlets shifted along her shoulders. “Just thinking about how I wish I could show this to him,” she said. She let the album fall closed in her lap, the pages shuttering one after the other. Phoebe jostled a knee, and then the album went to join the rest scattered on her bed.

“You are nobody.” “Excuse me?” A wave of irrational anger overrode the pain of her landing. “I am your wife.”

Alisa let out a shriek. Rosalind stiffened, except when Alisa ran forward and launched herself at the stranger, she realized it wasn’t a sound of alarm but sheer delight.

“Oh my God,” the man said. He wrapped his arms around Alisa tightly, holding her up. “Oh my God, Alisa, you’re so big now.” He was speaking Russian. And his voice sounded… familiar. Slowly, Rosalind turned to the woman. Holy shit. She was seeing ghosts. The woman yanked the square of fabric off her face. “Biǎojiě,” Juliette Cai said, grinning. “Don’t you recognize me anymore?”

“How do I blame a dead girl?” Rosalind asked quietly. It was a serious question. She was relieved beyond anything she could put into words that her cousin sat beside her. When Rosalind reached out and closed her fingers around Juliette’s wrist, she felt solid blood and flesh, warm and beating with the steadiest pulse.

“And I forgave you,” Juliette cut in, her hands coming around to grasp Rosalind’s shoulders, “a long, long time ago. Even if I were dead, you made a mistake, and then you needed to pick yourself back up to live for me. What else is there to do? Do you expect to repent forever?” Rosalind took a ragged inhale. Then another. “You’re going to make me start crying again,” she whispered. Juliette laughed, throwing her arms around her in a tight embrace. When Rosalind hugged her cousin and exhaled, it felt like she was breathing differently for the first time in five years.

“I would have found you anywhere.” He reached forward. Tugged that piece of her hair, then tucked the curl behind her ear. “Across the world and under it. No matter how well you hide. It doesn’t matter where you go. I’ll always find you. Understand?”

A pause. He was thinking—or hesitating. “Even if the memories never come back,” he said slowly, “I’m going to love you again. I have decided to warn you in advance.” Her throat closed tight. Don’t say that, Rosalind thought. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.

“I can’t,” he replied weakly. “It swoons when you’re around.” Rosalind tightened her hold on the steering wheel. Her throat twisted, tears threatening at her eyes. She couldn’t lose her composure. Orion was relying on her. She could cry her heart out with all the terror racking up inside her lungs when he was patched back together. But not a second sooner.

Orion was not the sort to languish away in a small lab that had been abandoned for years. Orion was bright fires and burning stars, and when his time came, it would not be here by a mere stab wound.