I manage a few blocks, my teeth clenched so hard I think they might crack. The streetlights blur past in streaks of gold, my mind half-focused on staying upright, half-praying that the next wave doesn’t hit.
But it does.
This one is worse—sharper, deeper. My foot falters on thegas pedal as another jolt of agony rips through me. I can’t stop the groan that escapes, low and guttural, as my vision starts to tunnel. My hand flies to my side, pressing uselessly against the source of the pain as if that could somehow stop it.
The car swerves off the road, tires screeching. The world spins, streetlights and shadows blurring together. With my last bit of strength, I slam on the brakes. The car skids to a stop on the shoulder, mere inches from tumbling into the ditch beside the road.
I stumble out, the ground shifting under my feet. I bend forward, hands on my knees, and vomit. Acrid bile fills my mouth as my stomach heaves.
The pain doesn’t relent, hitting me in waves, each one worse than the last. I blink, trying to clear my vision, but everything’s a blur, pulsing in time with my heartbeat.
This isn’t normal. Through the haze of pain, I recall the explanations from my training. The sudden onset, the intensity, the disorientation...
I struggle back to the car, every movement an agony. My fingers are thick and clumsy as I hit the dial button on my phone.
Zane’s voice fills the car, tense and clipped. “I don’t have an answer for you yet. It’ll take more than two hours to fix the mess you’ve created.”
“Mercer,” I groan, another wave of pain stealing my breath. “Fuck.” I double over again, my forehead pressing against the steering wheel as I fight to stay conscious.
“Ryder? What’s happening?” Zane’s tone shifts. “Ryder?”
I can’t answer him, caught in a bubble of pain. The world narrows to just this moment, this agony. I force myself to breathe. In and out. Control the pain. Shrink it into a small ball. Focus.
“Something’s wrong,” I finally manage, my voice a ragged whisper. “I’m showing signs of poisoning.”
“Are you sure?” The worry in Zane’s voice is clear now, even through the fog of pain.
“Fuck, Zane. I’m not sure.” I grit my teeth, fighting another wave. “But it sure feels like it. It’s something strong. I don’t know how long I can hold on.”
“Where are you? Send me your location. I’ll send someone to you.”
Cora. There’s no time.
“No.” I straighten back in the seat, leaning back and exhaling. The leather is slick with my sweat. “Send people to Cora. She’s in danger. Someone’s trying to take me out of the picture.”
“I already assigned Cora a new bodyguard when we talked earlier. He’ll be there soon.”
Ice floods my veins, colder than the pain. “Soon? No. She wrote to me thathe’d already arrived. A guy named Josh?”
There’s a pause, heavy with dread. When Zane speaks again, his voice is ice cold. “I don’t have an employee named Josh.”
My eyes widen as realization hits. I groan and clutch my stomach as another wave of pain hits me hard, but the fear for Cora overpowers even this agony. “He’s already there. He’s got Cora.”
“Where are you, Ryder?” The urgency in Zane’s voice matches my panic.
“On my way to her. I think she went to the Valeur estate.” I start the car again, the engine roaring to life. “Send your people there.”
“No, get to a hospital. That’s an order.”
I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. The worldspins with the movement, but I grit my teeth and focus on the road ahead.
“I’m done for. Save her.”
Thirty-One
CORA
Ican’t stop crying. The tears flow, blurring my vision and leaving salty trails down my cheeks. My chest heaves with each sob, the emotional pain manifesting as a physical ache.
