Page 151 of Reign
“Where are your guards?” I ask.
“Dead or engaged,” Vincenzo says. “The first wave came in with stolen credentials.”
“I’m going to kill everyone involved.”
“I assumed.”
The elevator drops. Too slow. Everything is too fucking slow.
Then Vincenzo coughs.
It is small. Almost covered by noise. He tries to turn away from the phone, tries to bury it under another breath, but I hear it. I hear the wet edge. I hear the way his next inhale is just a fraction thinner.
“You’re hit,” I say.
“I’m fine,” he answers immediately.
“Do not fucking lie to me.”
“I’m moving.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
His voice has gone sharp with warning now, but there’s strain under it—real strain. I know his pained voice. I know the difference between clipped irritation and a man forcing his lungs to work around damage. My vision tunnels.
“Where?” I demand.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Where the fuck are you hit?”
He doesn’t answer, and the silence lasts one second too long.
“Side,” Vincenzo says after half a second, like the word has been dragged out of him by force. “Maybe lower ribs. It’s nothing.”
I make a sound that doesn’t belong to me. Kai’s eyes snap toward me, and I see in his face that he heard enough to understand.
The elevator doors open, and we explode into the lobby. The hotel staff scatters before us. Maksim is shouting into his phone now, voice hard enough to crack bone. The convoy is already there, engines running, doors open, men armed and moving with the beautiful terror of disciplined panic.
I get into the back seat, with Kai on one side and Maksim in front. The car surges forward before the door is fully shut.
“Stay on the line,” I say again, and my voice sounds strange even to me. Too calm on the surface. Cracking underneath.
“I’m here,” Vincenzo says.
Another shot is fired through the phone. His or theirs, I can’t tell through my panic. Then he breathes hard and whispers something in Italian I don’t catch.
Kai leans toward me. “We have four cars moving to the east exit. Local police channels are jammed, but someone tripped the fire response,” Kai says, his voice fast and controlled. “Medical is five out.”
“Make it two,” I snap.
“I’m making it two,” Kai says.
Maksim throws the car into a turn hard enough that my shoulder slams against the door. I barely feel it. Streetlights smear across the windows. Horns blare.
The city folds into streaks and noise while my entire life hangs from a phone line and the sound of the man I love trying not to breathe like he’s bleeding.
“Nikolaj,” Vincenzo says.
