The sight was horrific. Adele was in the pool. A man in a waiter’s uniform had her by the shoulders, holding her under the water. Her small hands were fighting weakly, splashing.
The world went red.
My howl tore through the air, primal and deadly. I felt my wolf pushing to shift, to take over and rip that man into pieces.
The assassin looked up just in time to see me launch myself across the pool deck.
He didn’t even have time to scream.
I hit him with the full force of my body, knocking him out cold. He fell into the water, but I didn’t bother to check if he was dead or alive.
I moved straight for Adele, carrying her out of the pool.
My daughter was limp. Unresponsive. Her lips were blue.
“No, no, no.” Isabella dropped to her knees. “Come on, baby. Breathe. Please breathe.
I watched as she performed CPR. Chest compressions. Rescue breaths. Everything there was.
But nothing.
“She’s not responding!” Isabella’s voice was rising with hysteria. “Dimitri, she’s not—”
“Keep going. Keep trying. I’m calling for the helicopter.” I fumbled for my phone, dialing Edmund. “We’re going to the safehouse. Now. Have medical standing by.”
Isabella continued CPR, her movements becoming more desperate, more frantic.
“Please, baby. Please. Mommy’s right here. Come back to me. Come back.”
The helicopter arrived in minutes that felt like hours. Medical personnel took over, loading Adele onto a stretcher with oxygen, with monitors, with equipment I didn’t understand.
Isabella climbed in after them, her face a mask of terror, and I followed.
The safehouse was ready when we arrived. Three doctors swarmed Adele the moment we landed, including Dr. Lucy, who’d examined Adele last time for a concussion. They rushed her into an already set up room, and before they closed the door, she gave me a reassuring look, one meant to calm my trepidation. It did. But only a little.
And then we waited.
Isabella paced the hallway. She wouldn’t sit. Wouldn’t speak.
I sat in a chair just outside the room, with my head in my hands, silently praying. I’d only just gotten to know my daughter. I couldn’t lose her.
Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. Time had lost all meaning.
Finally, Dr. Lucy emerged.
“She’s stable,” she said, and Isabella collapsed against the wall with a sob of relief. “We’ve cleared her lungs. Her vitals are good. She’s breathing on her own. But she needs rest and monitoring for the next few days to watch for complications. I can send a nurse to do that, if you will allow that, Mr. Ravencrest.”
I shook my head, not trusting whoever that nurse is or anyone at all. This house was the safest place for Isabella and Adele, and I wasn’t going to compromise that. “No. You’ll come every dayto check on her. Just you. I’ll pay you double for your services if that’s what it takes.”
Dr. Lucy nodded slightly.
“Can we see her now?” Isabella asked.
“Of course. But she’s sedated. She won’t wake up for a while.”
We followed the doctor to the room where Adele lay in a bed that looked far too big for her small body. She was hooked up to monitors and IVs, but her chest was rising and falling steadily.
Isabella went to her immediately, taking her small hand and pressing kisses to her fingers. “I’m here, baby. Mommy’s here. You’re safe now.”
