The boy from the mug shot curses under his breath as he races down the street and then darts into an alley on the next block.
“Ryker? I just saw Semyon.” I follow, clutching my bag tightly against my stomach as I start to jog. “I’m turning downUlitsa Tel’manato follow him.”
“No!” Ryker growls over comms. “Get to the rendezvous point, Wren. Now!”
I should listen. But the look in Semyon’s eyes—it was like he recognized me. And if I leave him now, I might never find him again? At the mouth of the alley, I stop, warning bells going off in my head. Except…Semyon is at the other end, banging on one of the building doors. “He’s right here. I can see him…”
“Wren!” Ryker’s voice sounds both in my ear and from a few blocks away. I glance back at him, seeing the pure terror on his face as he sprints towards me. A shout rings out from the alley, and I turn, seeing Semyon struggling with a big burly man.
“Let me go,” he shouts and tries to kick at his attacker. I don’t think. I have to get to him. To save him. For Z.
Ryker begs me to stop, but I can’t, and as I race down the alley, Semyon manages to wrench his arms free and escape out onto the street. I try to stop my forward momentum, but I skid, my heart rate skyrocketing and my feet tangling with one another. Unable to find my footing, I crash to the ground, scraping my palms. As Ryker curses and shouts, rough hands grab me.
“Ry!” I flail my legs, but the man holding me slams me into the wall, and the side of my head explodes in pain. Fear wraps icy fingers around my heart as his scent invades my nose. Sweat and onions. I can’t…I can’t move. Can’t think. I have to get away. But he’s too strong. Too big. Pressed against me. “Ryker,” I choke out, and a shot explodes close to my right arm, sending bits of concrete flying up to hit my arms.
“Let her go, fucker!” Ryker shouts, and I find enough focus to squirm and land a solid kick to my attacker’s shin.
“Stupidcyka,” my attacker grunts and whirls around. Something hard smacks into my cheek. As my world goes dark, I hear Ryker scream my name.
23
Ryker
Two shots is all I can risk. I could hit Wren. But they’re not enough. Small bits of concrete explode from the side of the building as a dark-haired man with tattoos running up and down his arms tosses Wren over his shoulder and disappears inside the building. The other asshole—this one blond—sends a return shot my way before following his partner.
“Wren! Wren, sweetheart, talk to me!” I shout over comms. She can’t answer me. I saw the blond one punch her hard enough to knock her into next week, but I have to try. She’ll be lucky if she doesn’t have a broken jaw. What am I thinking? She’ll be lucky if she lives.
I reach the door, but it’s locked, and my pounding does nothing but bruise my fist. “Let her go, you dumb fucks! I’ll hunt you down and rip you apart!”
Footsteps slap on the concrete at the other end of the alley, and I spin, raising my gun. “Freeze!”
A young kid—no more than twenty-five—stops, stares at me for two seconds, and then darts around the corner. My shot misses him by inches, and indecision paralyzes me. Pick the lock or go after the kid?
Muffled voices echo over comms. Not Wren, but the men who have her. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but I think I hear a door slam. The sound frees me from the terror gripping me, and I abandon any thought of picking the lock. Stepping back, I fire two quick shots at the deadbolt.
The door swings open, and I slip inside and press my back to the wall, listening. Laughter, I think, and another door.
Fuck. Get your bearings, soldier. She needs you.
I take a deep breath. Scent the air. Sweat. Gunpowder. And honeysuckle. This is some sort of warehouse, I think. Stacks of boxes halfway to the ceiling hide the other end of the room from me, and light glows from somewhere behind them.
I know in my heart, she’s gone. This was a targeted, planned attack. Somehow, they knew she was here. Knew just how to get to her. But I can’t give up. Not this time. I’ve failed everyone I’ve ever cared for. I can’t fail Wren. Can’t lose her. Not now. She’s…everything.
Creeping silently around one stack of wooden crates, I find an open door leading to a hallway. With a quick check to verify no one lies in wait, I follow Wren’s scent. Until something glinting on the floor stops me.
Her bracelet. The purple and green beads are smooth between my fingers, and I say a silent prayer they didn’t break when they fell off her wrist. Except…she needs her bracelet. Without it, her anxiety…her panic attacks…
Keep going.
I can’t let myself dwell on what might happen to her. Because I know whatwillhappen to her if I can’t save her. Bursting through another door out into the sunlight, I’m seconds too late. The dark-haired goon grins out the side window of a shiny new car as the vehicle pulls away from the curb, tires squealing, and Wren’s gone.
* * *
I don’t rememberhow I get back to the safe house. I only have vague memories of running back to the car. I know Kolya has her. But I can’t get into his fortress without a hell of a lot more fire power—and help.
Wren’s laptop sits on the couch. Nestled amid the sleeping bags. Dropping my pack, I sink to my knees. Her scent is everywhere in this house. But nowhere more than right here. In the makeshift bed where I found peace for the first time in…forever.
My heart pounds in my ears. Rhythmic thumping I can’t stop. I failed her. This morning, she kissed me right here. I ran my hands over her small breasts, down her stomach, to the patch of reddish curls over her mound. The pressure inside my head builds, more thumping threatening to drive me insane. I can’t calm down. Can’t get myself under control.
