Maybe that man worked close by, and it was just a coincidence. If he wanted to hurt me, surely he would have done so while I was peering into an empty building on a deserted street like a sitting duck. Right? I was becoming paranoid. And for that, I blamed Ivan. “T’m sorry,” I said and stepped back, my unease fading in the heat of his presence. “What did I tell you about apologizing?” I frowned. “I ran into you. I was taught better manners than that.” “Twice,” he said thoughtfully. I blinked. “What?” “You’ve run into me twice now.” How could I forget? It knocked the breath from me. An unfamiliar awareness sparked inside. Madame Richie’s laugh ping-ponged through my head, and a shudder ran across my skin. Confused and slightly disturbed, I opened my mouth to apologize for that again but closed it when his eyes narrowed. “This city is going to eat you alive.” I took that literally, and my imagination cast a gruesome scene of zombies tearing into flesh inside my mind. “You’re not superstitious, are you?” I asked suddenly. A half-smile pulled on his lips. “Of course I’m superstitious. I’m Russian.” I rolled my eyes playfully. “Great. Don’t tell me you believe all that D’yavol nonsense too? I’m unwilling to suspend my disbelief regarding red skin and forked tails.” He eyed me seriously, running a thumb across his bottom lip. “Oh, he’s real, kotyonok.” I raised a brow. “Causing havoc and stealing away virgins at night.” He said it so sincerely, a soft laugh escaped me. Something heavy and warm settled with each frozen breath between us. His eyes were cautious as they took me in. “I see you got the coat.” “I did. Thank you. I definitely don’t deserve it after giving the other one away, but I appreciate it all the same.” “You would freeze solid in five minutes here without a coat.” His warm gaze settled on my thighs, his next words reproachful. “And you should probably consider wearing pants.”