My attention sweeps back and forth like a radar as we approach the car and then split, Cassian moving around the right side while I loop around the back toward the left. Music rises from an open laptop on the workbench on the other side of the room. As we come around the car, several of the carefully laid out pieces of the vehicle have been kicked and scattered aside, breaking the pattern.
“Raven!” Cassian darts forward over the pieces toward Raven. She’s lying face down on the ground with blood pooling out near her head.
“Shit!”
Cassian slides on the ground as he reaches her and gently presses his fingers through her hair to the side of her neck. I can barely stomach watching as ice-cold fear grips me, my mind spiraling with the dreaded answer Cassian will give when he lifts his head.
Another sweep of the room to distract myself shows that there’s no one else here. No Harris. No one.
“She’s alive,” Cassian gasps, setting his rifle aside and grabbing his phone. “Shit, it’s okay. She’s alive.”
As he calls for medical, I lower my gun and my stomach twists. “So where’s Valentina?”
32
ZIRA
Waiting for news is sickening. As sickening as it felt thinking they’d take Raven to the hospital but instead brought her back to the Empire State Building for treatment. The medical wing here is better than any hospital, according to Bradley, and only the most trusted can tend to any of the Suits.
It makes sense, but it unsettles my stomach to wander the lounge and see the city of New York spread out beneath the window, like some kind of metropolitan blanket. I’ve never worried about being high up, but with worry churning my gut up like a blender, I have to avoid the window just in case.
Raven. When the garage door opened and Cassian was carrying her unconscious body, there was a terribly cold second when I feared she was dead. Bradley told me the Suits were the best of the best, but no one is untouchable, and Harris is insane.
Thankfully, she seemed okay, but I’ve chewed three nails to their beds waiting for news. Raven in hospital and Valentina missing. There’s no way Harris could get Valentina, right? That womanmoves like a snake and seems as strong as a horse, with wit to match. Beautiful and deadly, I can’t imagine her ever letting Harris get close to her.
But something happened.
Because of me.
Because I couldn’t remember everything he told me because I was so wrapped up in Peter that nothing else mattered. I wear a pale patch into the floor with my frantic pacing back and forth until a knock at the door makes me jump right out of my skin.
“Oh, sweetie.” Ivy walks in with a large mug of tea clasped in her hands. “It’s just me, you’re okay.”
“Sorry,” I murmur, massaging my breastbone to calm my frantic heart. “Bit jumpy.”
“Understandable. Here, I made you some tea.”
“Oh.” I don’t have the stomach for anything right now, but I can’t bring myself to reject her gesture so I accept the mug and sit on the couch so the liquid doesn’t spill. “Is there any news?”
Ivy nods. “Raven took a really nasty blow to the head, but she’s going to be okay. Of course, Cassian is making sure they run every test imaginable on her to ensure she’s okay, but she is fine.”
“Oh thankGod.” My shoulders sag deeply and the tea threatens to spill over the edge of the mug. “I was so worried.”
“We all were.” Ivy smiles tiredly. “Don’t get me wrong, everyone in the Suit is brilliant, but Raven is definitely the cheeky little sister. I’ve never seen Cassian heated before either, so that was a first.” She shakes her head. “And we found Valentina.”
“Is she okay?” My eyes dart up from the swirling bubbles atop my tea.
“I’m fine,” comes Valentina’s cool voice from the doorway. She walks inside, her arms crossed over her chest with Bradley behind her.
Like always, the room feels a bit smaller with Bradley here and his presence instantly comforts me. He’s followed by Ruslan who beelines for Ivy and slides an arm around her waist.
“Hi, Zira.”
“Hi.”
“I’m here to steal Ivy. Cassian needs some help, and no one has kinder hands than her.” Ruslan briefly nuzzles into Ivy’s hair as he starts to lead her away.
“Charmer,” Ivy mutters, sliding her hand into his. As she walks away, she glances back at me. “Drink the tea, Zira. You’ll feel better.”
