Multiple vehicles. Heavy ones.
My pulse quickens.
“The road runs east,” Andrei continues. “Toward the border. Then south to…” He pauses, searching for the English. “To the city. Bra?ov, maybe. Or further.”
I pull out my phone, releasing a sigh of relief when it powers on. One bar of signal flickers in the corner.
Thank God.
“I need to make a call,” I tell Andrei. “It might take a while. And I might need privacy.”
He nods, understanding. “I will watch. You have ten minutes before we must return. Longer and Dragana will send others.”
“Ten minutes. Got it.”
He moves away, giving me space.
I stare at the phone screen. One bar. Maybe enough. Maybe not.
I pull up my contacts. Find Viktor’s number—the emergency line, encrypted, meant for exactly this kind of situation.
My finger hovers over the call button.
What do I say?Hey, sorry I’ve been dead for a week. Turns out I found an amnesiac dragon who saved my life and then got captured by the Syndicate because of me. Can you send a rescue team?
Yeah, that’ll go over well.
I take a breath. Hit call.
The line rings. Once. Twice.
Please pick up. Please—
“Mara?” Viktor’s voice, sharp with disbelief. “Is this—? Are you—?”
The line crackles. Goes dead.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I lift my phone in the air and wave it about, desperately seeking signal.
A bar flickers.
Yes!
I dial again. Viktor answers immediately. “Mara?”
“Yes, it’s me!”
“Good,” he says. “I’ve called for the others.”
Great. An audience.
But what the hell. I work better that way.
“Fine,” I say. “I just wanted to check in so—”
“Mara?” Viktor’s voice is breaking up. “Mara, can you hear me?”
