unbelievable skill in a studied, almost clinical manner. Bruno wondered what hindered his own
ability to fight Eno. Maybe he unconsciously subverted his own efforts. Maybe something inside him
wanted her to be free. Maybe women hunters didn’t have these problems.
Yana paused before a steel door at the rear of the final passenger car, and, after fumbling through a
ring of keys, inserted one into the lock. Turning to Bruno, she said, “The last ten cars are our storage
and transport cabins, reserved for prisoners on their way to Siberia. In addition to the infirmary, there
are cars equipped to hold the various species of angelic creatures, each one designed to counter the
creature’s particular strength. Nephilim are kept in a car filled with a high-frequency electric current
that renders them comatose. Eno is in a freezer car, a space reserved for the most violent angels—
warrior angels such as Gibborim and Raiphim, as well as Emim like herself. As you’re well aware,
the lower temperatures slow the heart, diminish the power of the wings, and bring the level of
violence to a minimum.” Yana smiled and pushed the door open. “Eno is in bad shape. You may not
even recognize her.”
They stepped into a narrow, lightless passage that opened to the holding cars. As they walked,
Bruno stopped at each car to examine the creatures. There were three angels bound together in one
cell—a Leogan, a Nestig, and a small red Mendax, three creatures whose words could never be
trusted. They didn’t notice Bruno, so busy were they muttering among themselves. At the end of the
train, at the front of the last car, there was a plate-glass door covered in ice.
“This is my week’s transport,” she said, pride in her voice.
“Impressive,” Bruno said, careful to not reveal the extent of his admiration.
“Eno is an extraordinary catch, one that I’ve been hoping to make for years. I don’t think I could
have managed her alone, and so I have you to thank.” Yana stopped before the frozen door. “Come
and look at our angel.”
Yana unlocked the door and Bruno stepped into the compartment, his skin prickling from the cold,
his breath rising and fogging in the air, his shoes slipping on the frost-covered floor. It took a moment
for his eyes to adjust. He saw Eno’s bare leg, its blue-gray skin a curl of fog; he saw her face, drawn
in sleep, her eyes closed, her violet lips. Her head had been shaved, and thick veins snaked over her
skull, pulsing and blue, living. Now that her beauty was stripped away, Bruno could perceive, with
visceral poignancy, how inhuman she was. As he knelt beside her, he heard her breath sticking in her
chest, as if the freezing air had lodged itself into her lungs. He ran a finger over her cheek, feeling the
old electric attraction to her. The train jerked and Eno opened her eyes. Their reptilian sheaths
retracted. As she trained her gaze on him, he saw that she knew him, that she wanted to speak to him,
but all her strength was gone.
She opened her mouth and her long, black tongue fell from her lips, its end forked like a snake’s.
Bruno felt an irrational urge to draw her close, to feel her breathing on his neck, to feel her struggle
under him. From the way she looked at him, he could feel her rage. Their game was over. Bruno had
won.
Yana said at last, “Do you have any clue how difficult this Emim is?”
Bruno let his gaze linger a moment longer. Half of his life had been spent hunting Eno. Yana had no
idea how well he understood how difficult and dangerous she could be. “Unfortunately, I do,” he
said, following Yana back into the corridor of the train.
“You think she’ll talk?”
“Maybe,” Bruno said. “Now that she’s isolated from the Grigoris, we have a better chance.”
Yana took a cigarette from a pack and offered it to Bruno. He didn’t smoke under normal
circumstances, but the past days were not at all normal. He took a cigarette, lit it, and inhaled, feeling
his mind clear.
“I have to admit, this is the first time a foreign angel hunter has assisted me with a hunt,” she said,
blowing the smoke from her cigarette away from Bruno.
“Your team isn’t very large, is it?” Bruno asked.
“It’s become more active in the past five years, but that is only because the oil companies have
brought a lot of action back to this part of the world. Old Nephilim families—families that left Russia
after the revolution—are building mansions and setting up corporations here. The new oligarchs have
worked in tandem with the Grigori family to create massive wealth. Before this rush of new blood, it
was just me, the occasional lost Anakim angel, and Siberia’s godforsaken winters.” Yana threw her