Zane immediately knelt in front of him on the floor. “Let me see it.”
Artur kept his eyes closed but lifted the sleeve of his t-shirt. What I had thought was a flesh wound wasn’t. Grigori cursed seeing his brother’s bicep, and Eva called him a very unkind name. I scowled at her. You weren’t supposed to call people that when they were shot and bleeding in front of you.
“He should have told us,” she muttered harshly returning my scowl.
Zane probed the wound, and Artur grimaced, right before passing out. Daniil ordered to Zane, “Take us to the fucking hospital or he’s going to lose his arm.”
Guess they weren’t too late after all.
It looked like I wasn’t getting to see my bed anytime soon.
We sat in the waiting room while Artur was operated on. I leaned against Daniil—after he had made me get checked out by a doctor there. I had no new injuries, the babies were fine, and my hands were now re-bandaged. It felt good being safe in his arms, to have him ordering people around again.
We were all covered in blood and gore while we sat there. New York’s finest rookies stood around the room watching us wearily. Stash, who knew a few of them, had tried to convince them we weren’t a threat to the hospital, but apparently, they didn’t believe so, especially when Daniil called in more bodyguards.
Ember had been taken to a room—Grigori following—to make sure she was all right, and Grigori had sent word with one of his three new bodyguards—his others dead—that she was fine. They were with us now after they had called to make sure Nikki and Beth were fine.
I sighed and snuggled in closer to Daniil.
Artur would be out of surgery soon, which meant I would be able to see my home after that. I doubted Artur was a man to sit around in a hospital. He would want to go home, just as I had.
“He’ll be fine, my sweet.” Daniil kissed my forehead.
“I know. He’s your son.”
I was freshly showered and had eaten a decent meal. Finally, I was home. We moved to the study after dinner, and Ember brought in armfuls of crystal so everyone could have a drink. Our day and night had been shit so far. But at least, I was safe and home, and Artur had made it through surgery without any complications. I sat on a couch next to the only other person injured, both Artur and I now wearing casts on one arm. I sipped from a glass of red wine—the doctor had said a glass wouldn’t hurt the babies—feeling the burn slide down my throat. I licked my lips. It was damn good.
Ember sat on the desk next to the open bottles of vodka. She wasn’t drinking.
Grigori took a glass from her, bending and whispering something against her ear. She tilted her head, and I couldn’t see what kind of look she gave him, but she didn’t say anything, and he still backed away, saying something else that she didn’t respond to either. He started muttering under his breath, turning sharply from her. When he passed me, I heard a few inventive curse words being stated as he went to sit by his father, who was sipping his own drink. Daniil’s eyes crinkled over the glass in my direction, in obvious amusement, he hid before his son sat down.
Roman took a seat next to me as he threw an arm over the back of the couch, snatching my drink from my bandaged hands. He took a good swig before giving it back. I glared at him, and he stated, “I can’t really drink right now. I have to watch over Ember.”
I gestured to the bodyguards who were taking sips covertly from shot glasses. “Really? And what are they doing?”
Roman grinned, taking my glass from me again for a smaller sip this time. “Celebrating. We’ve all been searching so damn long for you. It’s good to have you home again.” He glanced at Ember. “But she is thoroughly pissed off that she passed out in the wreck. She feels a little…embarrassed. And an embarrassed Ember is nothing to take lightly. Especially when Grigori gets protective like this. I’m just glad Brent and Cole are watching the girls tonight. Ember would have been a real mess if her kids were around, and she tried to pretend everything was fine.”
I nodded, grabbing my glass back from him and draining the contents before he could steal the rest. I could only have one glass, dammit. I nudged his arm with my cast, and whispered, “I’m going to see if I can make her feel a little better.”
I strolled as elegantly as I could over to Ember, my pregnant belly deciding that was just silly. Ember was still silent, sitting cross-legged on top of the desk—she seriously had a fetish with chairs. I sat my empty glass on the table next to the vodka bottles.
I tilted my head, and asked her softly, “You know, I didn’t kill anyone either when we were attacked. And I don’t even have a real injury to blame that on.”
She lifted my empty glass and rolled it in her hands. “You and I are very different.” Her eyes met mine, cold and ruthless. “That’s not a bad thing. It just is. What you’re saying won’t change that I feel like I failed somehow today.”
I hesitated, and then commented softly, “You didn’t fail today.”
She snorted. “How’s that?”
My smile was sincere. “When the reporters were all around, you kept me from freaking out in the limo. You truly did help me. That’s not failing. You succeeded when I needed you, and I’m grateful for that.”
Ember didn’t respond, but her eyes softened as she shooed me away.
I sighed and went.
I sat next to Daniil, listening to Grigori complain on Daniil’s other side. My lips twitched. Grigori and Ember were made for each other. But my head cocked when I could have sworn his words slurred.
I tilted my head to ask Daniil if his son was already drunk, but it was fucking heavy. I let my head drop back on the couch, staring over at him as he did the same. “I may have drank too much.”
