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"Not at all. It will last up to fifty-six hours and then pass out of your bloodstream as waste, just like anything else natural. We've all used this at some point, but if you're having any doubts…" Raven holds the needle up and finally looks Sabina in the eyes. "We can do something else."

"No, no, it's fine," Sabina says hurriedly and she turns toward me and tilts her head, exposing her neck to Raven. "Just… quickly."

"Are you scared of needles?" I ask softly.

Sabina nods tightly and clenches her teeth so hard that her jaw suddenly protrudes sharply from her jawline. It's impossible not to touch her when she's so visibly in distress so I caress her cheek with my thumb and hold her gaze as Raven quickly stabs the needle into her neck and presses on the plunger.

It's over in a handful of seconds with only a flicker of pain crossing Sabina's forehead. As Raven removes the needle, I keep caressing Sabina's cheek until her discomfort passes.

"How do you feel?" Raven asks as she quickly tucks the equipment away.

"That wasn't too bad," Sabina says with a smile, and she straightens up. Then, all attention turns to Bradley.

He studies the tablet in his hand with a deep frown and his jaw tics back and forth as if he's chewing over his thoughts. A few long, quiet seconds pass before his head tilts up slightly and he turns the tablet to face us all.

"Got you," he says as a small red dot flickers up on the screen. "So, wherever you go in the next fifty-six hours, we'll be able to track all of it."

"And that's not all." Raven approaches the tablet and taps the screen which changes from a map to a diagram of a person with various stats flickering alongside it. "We'll also be able to detect whether Boris drugs you in any way. We'll use it to see when you're under for surgery, if they move that quickly, but it will also give us insight just in case we need to bring anything when we rescue you."

"I'll be honest." Sabina laughs softly. "I never expected criminals to be so high-tech."

"Time moves fast. How we transported drugs and such becomes obsolete with every advancement in tech. Cameras and phones everywhere mean we need to be more careful when conducting business and occasionally, we come across something incredibly useful like this."

"It's cool, don't get me wrong," Sabina says and she runs her thumb over my knuckles as she turns to face me. "I think I just have an old school view of things."

"Old school isn't necessarily bad." I smile, but it wavers quickly and slowly fades. Sabina's expression falls with it.

"Are you still mad at me?" she asks softly.

"I was never mad. I'm just…" I suck in a deep breath as Bradley and Raven quickly step out to give us some privacy. "I'm distressed. I'm feeding you to the jaws of the monster and praying his greed is stronger than his desire to harm you."

"I'm not worried." She smiles and presses her hand against my cheek, then slides it up and teases her fingertips across my brow. "You'll come for me."

"I love that you trust me that much."

"Of course I do. Just remember that because I bet when we get there, I'll be terrified. But.." She inhales deeply. "Illyana is more important. And I know if things go wrong, you'll do everything you can to save her."

"I'll save both of you." The promise weighs heavily as I close the small gap between us and draw Sabina into a gentle, deep kiss. I can promise it until I'm blue in the face, but late-night talks with Valentina have revealed one painful truth. Boris is unpredictable. He believes he's untouchable, which makes him even more dangerous.

"Do you think Raven's little thing can tell her how fast my heart is going right now?" Sabina grins against my lips, kissing my upper then my lower lip.

"Don't tempt me to taste it," I murmur back.

—

Three hours later, torrential rain lashes down on the roof of an abandoned gas station tucked near the highway, safely out of The Suit territory. Six black SUVs block the exits near the rear of the gas station. The empty shelves and broken windows of the building mirror the hollowness in my chest as I climb out of our car with Bradley following. I refuse an umbrella. Having anything in my hand will fuel the urge to kill Boris where he stands for everything he's done, and the cold pinpricks of each icy raindrop are the only thing keeping the fog of fury in my mind to a manageable level.

Bradley moves first. He strides toward the rusted, abandoned fuel pumps and stops beneath an overhang a few feet from one of them. After checking that our men are situated behind us, I slosh through the puddles and join him. By the time I step under the overhang, my shirt is soaked through and clings to my body like a second skin.

Boris is already there.

He stands out in the rain with his face turned skyward, seemingly enjoying the bounce of the ice droplets against his features. His white tank top is soaked through, growing sheer enough that the dark swirls and shadows of his tattoos shine through like bruises. Boris is flanked by three men almost as tall and broad as he is, but all of them pale in comparison to Bradley's size.

I want to kill him.

I want to tear his throat out for having a hand in this sick plot with the Viscontis and my own grandfather. I want to beat his face in until the rain gathers in his jaw like a bowl. The anger must simmer off me because Bradley suddenly steps a half-inch closer and clears his throat in a gentle warning.

Boris finally tilts his head down and opens his eyes, locking immediately onto me. "Ah," he says with a sneer, walking forward. "The man from the car!"