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He sucked in a breath to shout for Charlie. Ed. Someone. Panic flared in his chest, sending a surge of adrenaline through his body.
But it was too late.
The darkness enveloped his mind. They had him.
1
KAIRO JONES
His head was killing him.
He hadn’t drunk that much at the restaurant. A few beers. Oh, and those shots Soren had talked them all into.
A low moan broke past his lips and he winced. His tongue was almost stuck to the roof of his mouth, and it felt as though he’d gargled paste. Dry mouth, headache, body sore. It would be better if he rolled over and fell back to sleep. Maybe one or more of his problems would go away with sleep.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Now that he was awake, his brain was booting up and flashing a strange kaleidoscope of images through his mind. Broken memories of a large man stopping him outside the bathroom.
The injection.
Someone knocked him out!
Kairo’s eyes flew open only to immediately squeeze shut again when bright light blinded him and sent searing shafts of pain through his head. He rolled onto his side, trying to curl up into a ball while waiting for the pain to subside.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” A gentle male voice grew closer. There was the scrape of a shoe across the floor and then a hand landed carefully on his head, stroking his hair and moving it from his face. “Would you like a drink of water? It might help.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to snarl that he didn’t want anything from the person who’d drugged him, but his head was throbbing and his mouth was so dry, water sounded like heaven.
“Yeah, thanks,” Kairo rasped. Slowly, he pushed upright and a pair of strong hands immediately grabbed his shoulders, helping to steady him. He rubbed his eyes and blinked, opening them to only a slit to get them adjusted to the blinding light.
A young man came into focus. He was half-turned away from Kairo, but he could see enough to make out a handsome but somewhat bruised face with a puffy bottom lip that looked as if it was still healing from being recently split. Scruff lined his jaw and cheeks and surrounded his mouth while heavy eyebrows shadowed his eyes.
When he turned toward Kairo, he was stunned by the eyes that met his. With his dark hair and olive complexion, Kairo had expected equally dark eyes, but pale-gray eyes were watching him closely while a cautious smile pulled up the corners of his mouth.
“Here. I was saving this for you,” the stranger said. The crack of the plastic seal filled the silence of the room as the man twisted the cap on a bottle of water and handed it over to Kairo.
Kairo grunted and accepted the water. He took two tentative sips while scanning his surroundings. The room was simple with white walls, wood floors, and a pair of windows that revealed a bright-blue sky. The two twin beds separated by a few feet of empty space and a small desk and chair were the only pieces of furniture in the room.
He was seated on the edge of one bed while his unknown companion was seated on the opposite bed, facing him. Some of the pain had receded in his head and his vision had cleared, allowing him to unabashedly stare at the stranger. In addition to the bruising on his face, his dark-blue button-down shirt was slightly torn on the left shoulder and one of the buttons was missing. His slacks were dirty but still in decent shape. The man had been roughed up but not badly beaten.
“Who are you? Where are we?”
The man’s expression brightened immediately, his smile becoming as warm as the summer sun. “I’m Isidore Panopoulos, but all my friends call me Izzie. I’m so sorry you’re here.” He’d spoken easily in English, and his words carried an accent similar to the man who’d stopped him outside the bathroom, but it wasn’t nearly as strong.
Kairo shoved to his feet and wobbled as the room seemed to sway. Isidore was right there, grabbing his arm with both hands and steadying him.
“Careful now. Go slow,” he murmured in a low, gentle voice.
Kairo ignored the heat of those hands burning his arm through the thin sweater he was wearing. He pulled free of the man’s grip and shuffled over to one of the windows. “And where exactly is here?”
There were no buildings, just a wall of dark-green trees and hints of mountains beyond that against a bright-blue sky. None of it looked familiar—not that Uruguay would necessarily appear familiar to him. It had been his first trip to the country.
“Greece.”
Kairo’s head whipped around toward Isidore, and he squeezed his eyes shut as his brain sloshed in his skull. Lesson learned: no sharp, quick movements for the time being. The contents of his stomach rose, and Kairo sucked in a steadying breath through his nose while clenching his teeth. He was not going to get sick. He also wasn’t going to shout. His head began throbbing with that word he was sure he didnotfucking hear.
“Where?” Kairo bit out when he got a handle on his body.
“You’re in Greece,” Isidore repeated, though the words sounded a lot more tentative and nervous.
