“I knew I liked that man from the day I met him.” Raina smiles and marches back to the door.
I drag a coat over my disheveled appearance, my body still holding the faint warmth of Rhys’s cologne. “Me, too. I think.”
The plants in the corner rustle as I pass.
Fern whispers, speaking for the crew,‘We hope he’s okay.’
One of Ivy’s trailing vines trembles, and she starts to cry, tiny droplets of dew beading up on her leaves.
I stop and press my palm to the soil. “He’ll be all right,” I tell her softly. “I’m going to get him. Bring him home.”
When I turn around, Raina is watching me with the faintest smile on her lips.
“It’s okay,” she says, casual as breathing. “I talk to my knives.”
Somehow, that makes me feel better.
Out on the street, a Tahoe waits, engine purring. Raina’s guard, who she calls Nero, nods from the driver’s seat. His massive shoulders are hunched like a linebacker made of black ionized steel. Blade, who I’ve met in passing, idles in a Denali behind us. There’s no sign of his partner Jett, though. But I can’t worry about them right now.
Everyone looks like a cool death squad. And I’m dressed like a candy cane. But I can’t and won’t be anyone else. Rhys loves me this way.
As soon as Raina slides in beside me, the car pulls off, tires hissing on wet pavement.
“Why aren’t we going to a hospital?” I ask as we crawl through dark, narrow streets of low brick buildings.
“Empire assassins don’t go to hospitals,” Raina says quietly. “The Quinlans use a clinic. A doctor is with Rhys right now.”
Her calm should soothe me, but it doesn’t. I grip her hand anyway, and I love how she lets me.
The Tahoe stops in front of a steel door with men I’ve never seen before standing guard.
Raina senses I’ve gone rigid and holds my hand. “Empire guards. They’re here to protect us.”
“Right.” I let her steer me out of the SUV and past that door.
Inside, I smell antiseptic and gunpowder since there are so many armed people in this room. I catch my breath. Rhys is lying shirtless on a gurney under bright lights, his bruises shadowing his ribs and blood dried along his hairline. His head is bandaged, his eyes covered in an ice mask.
The sound of the monitor beeping to reflect his heartbeat is the only thing keeping mine from coming apart. My knees go weak with relief.
A tall man with blond hair moves a stethoscope over my boyfriend. “No internal bleeding.”
Ares, all sharp Greek God angles and a stupid, perfect chin, approaches me. “You should feel very proud. This man is one of the toughest, most ruthless killers I’ve met. I’m certain he can handle anything. But he needs you.”
Okay, maybe I don’t hate him so much.
“Fallon? Is she here?” Rhys sounds so weak.
Raina nudges me forward and whispers, “It’s okay.”
I step forward to hold his hand. “I’m here, Rhys.”
“Fal, love. I’m okay,” he says weakly, dry lips moving.
He does not look okay!
I hold it together as best I can, but seeing my mountain of strength, the man who protects me crumpled on a gurney, challenges the strength of my stomach to hold down food.
Tears welling, I ask the men in the room, “What’s wrong with him?”
