Julian appears from my left. Three shots in rapid succession. The guard drops.
“Go!” Julian shouts. “Get her out of here!”
I run the last twenty feet to the vehicle and slide into the back seat with Aurelia still in my arms. The medic is already there, bag open, hands moving.
“Lay her down,” he says. “I need to assess injuries.”
I lower her onto the seat as gently as I can. Her head rolls to the side. There’s blood on her face, her clothes, everywhere.
The medic starts checking vitals. Pulse, breathing, pupil response. His face is grim but focused. “Multiple contusions. Possible broken ribs. Severe dehydration. She needs a hospital.”
“Secure facility,” I say. “Julian’s people have one ready.”
Declan slides into the driver’s seat. Marcus takes passenger. The vehicle is moving before Julian even gets in. He appears at the last second, diving through the still-open door as we accelerate away from the warehouse.
The medic is working on Aurelia. Starting an IV. Wrapping her ribs. Cleaning blood from her face so he can see the extent of the damage.
I’m holding her hand. The only part of her I can touch without causing more pain.
Julian’s staring at his sister. At the bruises. The blood. The way she’s not moving. “Did they—” he starts.
“Tortured her for information. She didn’t break. Didn’t tell them anything.”
“How long?”
“Hours. Since they took her.”
His hands clench into fists. “The Petrovs?—”
“Will be dealt with. After she’s safe.”
Aurelia’s eyes flutter open again. Just for a second. She looks at me, tries to say my name but can’t manage it.
“I’m here,” I tell her. “You’re safe now. The boys are safe. Everyone’s safe.”
Her hand squeezes mine weakly. Then her eyes close again and she’s unconscious.
The medic checks her pulse. “She’s stable. But we need to get her to the facility fast.”
“How fast are we going?” I ask Declan.
“As fast as I can without killing us.”
The drive takes twelve minutes that feel like hours. Every second she’s not moving. Every second I’m waiting to see if she’ll wake up again or if the torture was too much and we got there too late.
The secure medical facility is in Westchester. Private. Discreet. Heavily guarded. Julian’s people run it for situations exactly like this. We pull up to the emergency entrance and doctors are already waiting. They have a gurney. Equipment. Everything ready.
I carry Aurelia out of the vehicle and lay her on the gurney myself. Can’t let go. Can’t walk away even though I know they need to take her.
One of the doctors puts a hand on my arm. “We’ve got her. Let us work.”
Julian pulls me back. “Let them do their job.”
They wheel her inside through doors that close behind them, and I’m left standing in the parking lot with blood all over my clothes and my hands and nothing to do except wait.
Julian’s beside me. Both of us are staring at those closed doors.
“She asked about the boys,” I say. “First thing. Before asking about herself. Just wanted to know if they were safe.”
