Lifting her, I carry her up the bank to the street above. We’re in a quiet neighborhood.
Considering how much she’s shaking and the fact that I can’t feel my limbs, I’d say we need medical attention. Neither of us have a phone or ID on us. I’m not sure if I can trust any of my men. We’re kind of fucked.
What we really need is a safe house. Luckily, I know just the place.
I spot an older vehicle parked on the side of the road. Wrapping my fist in my sodden shirt, I punch out the back window and unlock the passenger door. I settle Ravenna into the seat before going around to the driver’s side. No alarm and easy to hot wire—my favorite kind of car.
As soon as it starts up, I crank the heat and speed toward the city.
“Are you okay?” I glance at my wife. “Ravenna?”
She nods, but I don’t like the blue tinge to her skin. She’s still shaking. We need to get her out of those wet clothes. I speed up.
New York really is the city that never sleeps, so there’s traffic even at—I look at the clock—three in the morning.
“Stay with me. We’re almost there,” I tell her, though she seems to be slipping in and out of consciousness.
By the time I pull up in front of The Manor in Manhattan, and park on the sidewalk, she’s out cold. I don’t bother to cut the engine before rounding the vehicle and gathering her into my arms.
The Manor’s staff meets me in the lobby. They take one look at us and a flurry of activity follows.
We’re checked into a suite where a medical team shortly joins us. They carefully strip off our clothing and replace them with The Manor’s logo-embossed black flannel pajamas. I’m given warm liquid to drink and a blanket. They hook Ravenna up to an IV and place a heating pad on her chest before wrapping her in a comforter. All through this, I never leave her side.
We’re settled together on the bed. The medical team diminishes to a single nurse who regularly checks in on Ravenna throughout the night. Worry coils through me.
As exhausted as I am, I can’t sleep. I spend the rest of the night watching Ravenna doze and hope she’ll be okay when she wakes up.
My near death experience rattled something free in me. I’ve gained a clarity of perspective I never thought possible. When I think of everything I’ve put Ravenna through, I want to go back and beat the shit out of my past self.
What the fuck had I been thinking? My priorities were in all the wrong places. My fears, my demons, much too powerful.
From now on, I’m going to do better. I silently make that vow to myself.
Somewhere around dawn, sleep claims me, only to be jolted awake, disoriented and sweaty. It’s too damn hot in here. I untangle myself from the blanket cocoon, then strip off my flannel shirt.
“Cian?”
I turn to Ravenna, surprised and delighted to find her awake. At some point the nurse removed her IV. I must have slept through that. One glance at the clock tells me it’s mid-afternoon.
I drop to my knees beside the bed. “Ravenna, how do you feel?”
She stretches, yawning. “Like I’ve slept for a million years. Where are we?”
“The Manor. The safest place in the city.” It’s a refuge for those in the underworld.
“Oh.” She sits up. “I’ve heard of this place. Arianna and Dimitri hid out here for a while once.”
I hum in acknowledgement. “What happened last night? I remember going into the river and that’s it. Did you escape Brendan or did he toss you in after me? How the fuck did we survive?”
She looks a little sheepish as she says, “I escaped and jumped in after you.”
“What?! Are you insane? You could have gotten yourself killed.” I suck in a deep breath, an attempt to calm down. “Tell meexactlywhat happened.”
She holds her head high, chin at that stubborn angle I love so much. “I freed myself from the handcuffs. They pushed you into the river, so I jumped in after you. It was the only way to save you from drowning. Somehow, by God’s mercy, I found you in the water, dragged your heavy ass to the shore, and managed to get your cuffs off too. Then I beat on your chest, and screamed at you, until you came back from the dead. I think that about sums it up.”
I’m so conflicted my head’s about to explode. “First of all; don’teverrisk your life like that again. Not for me, not for anyone.” When she opens her mouth to argue, I cut her off with a sharp look. “Second; you’re one hell of a woman,broc meala,and I’m the luckiest man alive to be married to you. Thank you for saving my life.”
Her features soften. “You’re welcome. It seems like we saved each other last night, because I don’t remember how we got here.”
