My ribs are killing me but I don’t remember knocking them.
“Mom—” Paige is awake, and now, thanks to me, the door to her room is wide open and not only can she see Morozov with his hand around my neck, but he can see her.
Footsteps hammer through the lobby and Morozov turns to face the sound, shoving me in front of him. The knife tip presses against my neck.
Fear has made everything turn white but I still seehim.
My ghost.
Or is he?
I blink, straining to believe that what I’m seeing is real, that he hasn’t been killed up at the retreat.
My lungs sigh before my head can catch up.
Augusto.
He stands framed in the hallway, draped in shadow, his eyes black with something that looks like annihilation itself.
For a split second, everything stops.
Then Morozov’s voice slides into my ears.
“I will kill her.”
Augusto steps forward into the shard of light. His gaze flashes between Morozov and me.
Then, after everything I’ve learned about this man, what he will and will not tolerate, what he won’t think twice about before obliterating, Augusto says something I do not expect.
“What do you want?”
He’s willing to negotiate.
He’s ready to put everything he’s fought for up to now on the line to keep me safe.
“Ah, he is talking.” I hear the sneer in Morozov’s voice. “I’m surprised, Augusto. You just killed every man involved in the deal, and now you ask me what I want?”
My breath stills in my throat. Augusto killed them all. That means they weren’t going to back down. Despite everything, they still wanted the dirty deal to go ahead.
Augusto’s gaze darts to mine but it isn’t a killer I see. It’s a hero. If that deal had gone ahead, it wouldn’t have meant a handful of lives lost, it would have meant hundreds of lives lost. Possibly thousands.
“I want you to release the fucking goods.” Morozov hisses.
Augusto heaves in a breath. “Fine.”
Fine?I didn’t think my heartrate could tick up any faster but it does.
What is Augusto doing?
Slowly, he takes his phone out of his pocket and opens up the screen. “I’ll put in a call.”
He searches for a contact and holds the phone to his ear as he steps a little to one side.
Then a number of things happen, too fast for me to ascertain order or outcome.
A gun fires. A bullet whistles past my ears.Arrow.
The tip of the blade scratches down my throat. And Augusto is running.
