The Groznyj Grad Living Novel

"Two. Dismembered and...posed. He likes to make a show of it."

Rakitin hoped that was enough detail to discourage further questions.

His hand unconsciously went to his hair, mirroring the man's gesture.

"That's true," he said thoughtfully.

It wasn't the first time someone had mentioned that Rakitin fell rather neatly into the demographic of potential victims himself.

"There's something surreal about thinking of it that way. Then I'd never see how he gets caught."

That aspect was the more disquieting. Ippolit had long since accepted that death came, like a cat, at its own whim.

"I don't think I'd make a very good hungry ghost."