My throat tightens. Fear hits me. "What if something goes wrong? What if the arena collapses too early? What if the wrong surveillance catches your uncles, and that assumes they'll agree to this?"
Brax tugs me into him. "We won't allow for any mistakes."
Sean declares, "My uncles will need everything. Layouts. Entry points. Security spots. Air ducts. Tunnel maps."
Kirill answers, "I have everything."
Zara encourages, "Then we can do this."
Brax's grip on my waist tightens. He orders, "Sean, call Brody."
28
Brax
Several Days Later
Steam curls through the bathroom doorway, drifting across the hardwood floor. Valentina stands in front of the mirror, head tilted, towel wrapped around the ends of her dark hair as she rubs gently, trying not to tangle it. The morning light spills across her bare shoulders, softening the sharp edges of her exhaustion and illuminating the bruise of worry under her eyes.
Several days have passed since we discovered what the Omni wanted to do to her. Those images of her on the operating slab still claw at the back of my mind in the quiet moments. I haven't slept more than two hours at a time since that night, but I hide my fear from her.
She drops the towel and reaches for the blow dryer. When she catches my reflection in the mirror, her lips curve gently. She murmurs, "You're watching me again."
I step behind her. My lips brush her neck. "Can't help it. You're the best thing in this fucked-up penthouse."
Her lips twitch. "This is a fucked-up penthouse?"
"You know what I mean, Minx," I offer, feeling like the walls are closing in on me. Ever since Kirill ordered none of us to leave, I've feltlike a caged animal. I'm not used to not being able to come and go freely. And all the threats surrounding us aren't helping.
Sean had new computers arrive the day after we got here. After ensuring they weren't bugged, we set up shop in Kirill's office, the two of us spending most of our hours online, but not getting any further than before.
"Hopefully we can go home soon," she says, but neither of us knows how long this is going to last.
I slide my hands around her waist and kiss her cheek. "I'm going to go wait for the O'Connors."
She smiles. "Okay."
I give her another peck, then step back.
She turns on the hair dryer, tugging a wet brush through her long strands.
I give her a final glance before I change my mind and drag her into bed instead. I leave the bedroom, heading toward Kirill's office. The corridor stretches long and silent, every step echoing the tension of the last few days.
Sean is already inside, pacing like a caged wolf. Kirill stands near the windows, arms crossed, jaw tight, staring at the skyline as if mentally mapping out where he wants to watch the Underworld burn from.
"You ready?" I ask.
Kirill doesn't look away from the glass. "Yep."
A knock pounds against the door hard enough to rattle the hinges.
Four large Irishmen fill the threshold, broad-shouldered, thick-armed, unmistakably O'Connor. Brody steps inside first. A scar drags along his cheekbone, disappearing into the scruff of his jaw. His accent hits the air like a fist.
"Well, lads," he announces, sweeping the room with an assessing glare. "Which one of ya wants to tell us why ya dragged us out here? And the reason had better be worth the bloody airfare."
Behind him, Aidan flicks a lighter open, holds the flame too long, then snaps it shut with a smirk. Devin and Tynan step inside last, both watching everything with expressions that say they're just as curious and annoyed that they don't have any information on why they got summoned halfway across the world.
Kirill closes the door and gestures toward the seats. "Please. Sit."
