“She is.”
Vanessa nods, though her expression sobers quickly. “And she’s lucky too.”
“What do you mean?”
“Roland told me that something like fifty COE and SDD fighters were sent in.” She blinks and then looks around at the empty room, occupied only by two other individuals. “Haven’t you wondered why this room is so empty, Taranis?”
I haven’t. Not once. I shake my head.
“They all died,” she whispers. “The Marduk killed everyone. Only Roland, Monika, and five others made it. Three of them Roland carried here by himself before going to your apartment ...”
“Miss Theriot?” a booming voice calls.
I jerk and Vanessa jumps to her feet. “Is he ...?”
The nurse nods, a smile on her face. “He’s impatient to see you.” She gestures Vanessa forward, and for a second, I’m instantly forgotten.
Then Vanessa surprises me. She turns around, hooks an arm around my neck in an awkward hug, and whispers against my cheek, “Be good.”
And then I’m alone, left to wonder how the fuck Monika survived, and what in the hell Vanessa means.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Monika
“You stubborn idiot, wake up.” The voice is familiar to me, but I’m not sure who it is. I have a feeling I know them, but I can’t quite make the link to their name in my mind. Then my eyes blink open, and I see the prettiest face I’ve ever seen, one belonging to my arch nemesis.
I frown. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking on you.” Cynthia sits below the edge of my hospital bed, and she’s shifting back and forth in a way I don’t understand. As my mind clears of fuzzies, I realize she’s sitting in a wheelchair.
“Oh ... shit. How are your legs?” I cough. There’s air flying into my nostrils through little tubes. I’ve been treated for work-related injuries before, but only minor scrapes and bruises. I’ve been to the hospital, but I’ve never beenhospitalizedbefore.
Cynthia’s face gets all pink. “Fine. I mean, I’m hardly healed at all, yet here you come, stealing my spotlight again.”
I chuckle and then groan. “Sorry. I mean this with my whole heart when I say this—I definitely did not intend to.”
She laughs a little at that. “I just, um ... You came to check on me, so I thought I’d return the favor.”
“Thank you.”
She runs a hand through her hair and then holds it out to me. “Truce?”
I grin. “Truce.” I use all my strength to lift my right hand and clutch hers.
Cynthia glances across my body, and my gaze swivels to follow hers to find whatever she’s looking at.
“Ow,” I hiss. There’s a shooting pain in the back of my neck when I try to turn. Ugh. Feels terrible. Actually, my whole body feels terrible. I try to move my arms, but they feel weighted even though they’re lying at my sides atop a plush blanket, untethered. Huh. This doesn’t look like a hospital blanket, and I know for damn sure that no truce in the world would have convinced Cynthia to bring it. That’s one step too far.
I carefully look up to see the person—being—standing at my other side. Darius has his arms crossed, his clawed feet stamped apart on the tiled floor, a completely blank look on his face.
I flinch. “Oh shit. You’re here.”
When he exhales, his already wide nostrils flare even wider and his horns crackle with blue light. He doesn’t speak. My mouth opens to say something to defuse what looks like an imminent eruption, but I can’t get anything out. He’spissed. Is he ... gonna kill me?
“What happened, Monika?” Cynthia’s voice severs the tension, which is ascending to dangerous heights. “It wasn’t ... because I gave you that phone, was it?”
I tense. “I . . .”
