“Alessandra,” I say, my voice flat. “Go to the bike. Now.”
“Val, what is this? What’s happening?”
“Blood oath.”
Forty-One
MAKSIM
Ismooth my fingers over the bandage on my hand. It isn’t the one Valentina wrapped around me last night. This one’s from Remi. Normally, I wouldn’t let an eighteen-year-old, somewhat inexperienced tattoo artist touch my skin, but I’ll give her this—she’s damn good.
I reached out to her early, after waking up this morning, just as I have every morning since returning, thinking about Valentina. And with this pull in my chest, this need to do something for her. Something small. Something stupid. Something that’ll make her smile. Because the things I’d do just to put a smile on her face scare me—in the best and worst ways. I don’t know what I’m doing, what any of this means…what’s waiting for us on the other side of all this madness. I just know I want her by my side.
Waking up alone, without her, isn’t an option anymore.
“Sir.”
Two soft knocks follow the voice.
“Come in,” I say, not turning, eyes still on the city below.
“Security informed me there are two women on their way up to see you. They insisted, blew past the guards rather…violently.”
I freeze—not out of fear, but interest—and finally look over my shoulder at Alina. She’s pale, tucking a dark strand behind her ear as she steps inside.
Incompetence. Unacceptable.
I pull my Glock from the top drawer.
“Is that so?”
She nods quickly, eyes dropping to the floor. “Should I call for backup? They were…um, covered in blood, sir.”
A cold, sharp pressure clamps around my ribs, and I rack the slide and move past her toward the door.
“I have the footage,” she blurts, flipping her phone around.
One glance.
One goddamn glance is all it takes.
Valentina. And AJ. I’m already sprinting for the elevator.
The metal doors glide open, and for one suspended second, we stare at each other, me rooted in place, her standing there like a fucking nightmare come to life. Blood is splattered across her shirt, her face. AJ behind her in the same state.
“Kolibri,” I breathe, stepping in front of her, voice shredded. “Tell me you’re okay.”
“It’s not my blood,” she says.
That’s all I need to hear.
My lungs unlock, and my heart kicks back to life. I grab her and pull her hard into my chest, burying my face in her hair as I kiss the top of her head.
“Fuck, baby,” I rasp, holding her like my hands are the only things keeping her upright. “Don’t do that. Don’t you fucking do that to me.”
“I’m okay,” she whispers, fingers digging into my shirt. “But we need to talk.”
I nod, eyes sliding to AJ, and settle a hand on her shoulder. “You good?”
