“Fuck, Aleks, stop! It’s me,” Pyotr yells over the high-pitched ringing in my ears that’s loud as fuck.
What is he doing here? The last thing I remember is?—
The world comes back in jagged fragments.
I try to sit up but can’t. Grit crusts my eyes, making it difficult to see when I open them, and I regret it when bright light accosts my vision and temporarily blinds me.
“Aoife. Aleksei—” My lungs seize, not able to pull in air, and I choke on racking coughs that won’t stop.
Pytor’s hard slaps to my back double me over, but they help jumpstart my breathing. “You’re safe. We’ve got you.”
“I…need to…save her.”
A bottle of water gets forced to my lips, the cool liquid burning my throat like acid as I guzzle it down.
“What you need to do is lie still and let Boris check you out.”
Screw that.
With every bit of strength I can muster, I push to my feet, and immediately timber sideways and slam into the wall like a felled tree.Aw, fuck.
Pyotr grabs me and forces me to sit on the bed. “Will you please lie the fuck down before you pass out?”
The profound worry in his voice penetrates through the haze of desperation, and I’m finally able to see my surroundings. I’m in a room. A bedroom. A beam of sunlight shines a spotlight across the floor to the wall. The bright light. How did I get here?
“Where are we?”
Pyotr leans into view, crouching down to meet my gaze. The crescent moons under his eyes are tinged purple with fatigue.
“One of our safe houses,” he replies, his hand hovering near my shoulder, like he’s not quite sure if he should touch me. “You’ve been unconscious for two days.”
Two days?Two whole fucking days?
“Aoife.”
Pyotr none-too-gently pushes me back down onto the bed when I try to get up. “I will knock you unconscious, you stupid ass, if you try to get up again.”
He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know.
“Aoife is alive.”
His face screws up like I’ve gone daft. “What are you talking about?”
I grasp his arm in a vise. “She’s Syn. Aoife is Syn.”
He pulls back, opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it. “You’re not making sense. Boris said you have a concussion.”
I know I do, but that’s not the point, and he’s not listening to me. The bedroom door swings wide, the quietcreakmaking elephants tap dance inside my head. Palming my temple, I try to block out the migraine that is jackhammering behind my eyes, the throbbing pain ripping through my skull and splitting it open.
When I glance over, Drako is standing there, his face a mask of desolation. It’s the same look he had that day when?—
My heart begins to thunder against my ribs, the familiar panic coming back like an unwanted memory.No. Please, God, no.
“Where’s…Aleksei?”
Pyotr visibly pales, and the charged silence stretches between the three of us like razor wire.
“Where’s Aleksei?” I shout.
