Page 57

Seren banks hard between two towers, climbing above the morning traffic. “For fuck’s sake,” I mutter as my ribs protest.

“Then we’d better hurry the fuck up.”

“Calm your tits.” Ryven keeps scrolling. “Our guards are already there. They’ve found all sorts of creative ways to keep your boyfriend from leaving.”

A quiet snort escapes Seren.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Didn’t say he was.” Ryven grins without looking up.

“And why the fuck is he in the hospital?”

Ryven shrugs, still reading. “Apparently, that’s where he wanted to be dropped off.”

“Then make him drive faster.”

Seren doesn’t even glance over. “Him is working on it.”

I lean forward as another line of towers slides past the windshield. “How long?”

Seren checks the navigation. “Ten minutes.”

“And the Calder shuttle?”

“Five.” Ryven’s already back on his slate.

That’s too fucking long.

Clenching my jaw, I keep my eyes on the traffic. Ryven’s right. I should be flat on my back in the hospital.

Instead, I’m chasing a candidate who thinks saving my life earned him the right to vanish before I dismissed him. It didn’t.

The holo-SUV barely settles onto the hospital pad before I’m reaching for the door. I’m out before it fully stops, the ground doing its half-beat trick beneath me. Seren’s hand hovers near my elbow without touching. He knows better.

Ryven falls into step beside me as I take the corridor too fast, my legs arriving a fraction too late and the straps around my ribs punishing every step.

People look up as I pass. A doctor steps aside. Two hospital attendants flatten themselves against the wall, but no one tries to stop me.

A nurse is arguing with someone farther down the corridor. “He can’t be moved that quickly. His oxygen levels aren’t stable.”

I turn the corner and find four Hunt escort guards clustered near the exit. At the center, my candidate has one arm wrapped around another man, supporting most of his weight just to keep him upright.

His head turns toward something one of the guards says, those green eyes going wide. For the first time since I met him, I catch him completely off guard. His blond hair is matted against his forehead, mud still beneath his nails, and his arm locked around the man beside him.

Then the other man lifts his head.

And my mouth actually falls open.

Good fucking Light.

There are two of them.

Same blond hair. Same green eyes. Same mouth, except this one is thinner beneath the oxygen line under his nose.

“Fuck me.”

The man suddenly folds over in a coughing fit, and my candidate tightens his hold around him. “Easy. I’ve got you.” He looks toward the guards. “Please. We have to board.”