NIKOLAI

“Where is my brother?” I asked The Burning City’s chief assassin for the second time, the words passing harsher through my clenched teeth as I watched the skinhead cross his hands over the beefcake muscles on his chest.

Hagrid was quiet as we stood face-to-face in the foyer, the nurse men still loitering about, scraping off the remaining bits of flesh and gut from the grooves in the concrete flooring of the stairs and banquet hall.

“Are we speaking to a fucking oak tree Hagrid sama?” Igor bellowed, spigots of spittle flying from his mouth to spray the burly man’s face and I watched as a muscle ticked in...