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“Oh, god.” Her eyes widened. “Are you hurt?”

Then I felt it. Something wet trickled from my nose. My fingers flew up to check.

Blood.

A fucking nosebleed.

Before I could say or do anything else, my legs gave out. Neeve lunged to catch me, but we both collapsed to the ground.

Blackness tore at my consciousness, and I completely passed out.

Weak and vulnerable.

Chapter Twenty

Xeniya Morozova

Age 35

Present

On the video, a frantic Neeve shook my unconscious body, screaming for me to wake up.

“Please wake up,” she sobbed. “I can’t do this alone. Please.”

I didn’t. And I probably wouldn’t for a while.

Then something happened that I knew nothing about at the time, although considering what happened when I finally woke up, I shouldn’t have been surprised.

The compound door squeaked open, and Sabine entered, flanked by several of her large, muscular men.

She approached my unconscious body slowly, like a lioness on the hunt.

“I did tell you this is what would happen.” She poked me with the toe of her red-bottomed heel.

Seriously?

“Well, gentlemen, do take care of her.” She gestured toward my body.

“No,” Neeve yelled from the video. “I won’t let you take her.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Sabine scoffed. “She’s my…” She tapped her chin, searching for the right word. “… associate. And I’ve come because this idiot didn’t think through her escape plan.”

Another kick from her red-bottomed heel. “Now, out of the way, Red. We must get out of here before they send reinforcements.”

The footage cut out rather dramatically, fading to static, then black, before another message finally appeared.

Go find your little ghost, Severin. I gave you more than enough information to hunt her down and END her.

Happy Hunting!

Love,

Damon Bayswim Locke

My stomach dropped to my toes. That fucker.

Apparently, he hadn’t appreciated the virus I’d written to attack his programs.