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It was calmer that way.

Distant and remote and focused.

I fought its pull.

I needed one last weapon before I allowed myself to succumb completely.

I snapped my fingers, jolting Campbell into action. “Last chance.”

“Jesus Christ.” Finding the right box, he pulled it free, ignoring the yellow and red warning sticker. A label coloured with dangerous pigments to alert the user of how risky its contents were. Warnings of death and serious complications.

The drug was another form of elixir with irreversible side effects. A tonic and stimulant—a brew that had the power to disable pain and enable the user to do what was necessary before they succumbed.

I didn’t care about the price.

I didn’t worry about the future.

All that mattered was her.

In Drake’s hands.

Too far for me to protect her.

Facing a future of pain and horror and—

“Fucking do it, Jim.”

“For God’s sake.” Campbell grabbed a crutch on his way past, handing it to me and placing the box of potentially lethal injections on the bed. Selecting one, he unwrapped it, uncapped it, tapped out any air, and tore open an alcohol swab from his pocket.

Pika fluttered to the bed, squeaking grimly, his beady black eyes intelligent enough to understand something dangerous was happening. Something he didn’t like.

Campbell’s jaw clenched. His hand lowered. “If I administer this, the percentage of you surviving are—”

“I know the math.” I held out my arm. “Do it.”

“What if it’s not enough to get her back? To win?”

“It will be. I’ll make sure of it.”

“She won’t be happy if you save her only to die a few hours later.”

“She doesn’t have a choice in the matter.” I narrowed my eyes. “Once she’s safe and Drake is dead, nothing else matters anymore.”

“Love matters, Sullivan. Love can change you. It’s already changed—”

“Love is dead if I delay any longer!” I hoisted my arm higher, ignoring my chugging heart and the quiet whisper of sanity. I could be buying Eleanor’s life with my own.

And I would take that trade.

Because I refused to go back to the man I’d been.

I hated who I was.

No existence was possible for me unless Eleanor was in my world.

That was the point of a sacrifice. It wasn’t noble. It wasn’t heroic.

It was selfish.

Just like every other emotion a human being could conjure.

I would die because I was selfish and couldn’t bear to live in a world without her.

Campbell sighed and swiped the swab over my bicep. With steady hands from a lifetime of being a doctor, he punctured my skin, pressed the plunger, and shot the golden contents into my bloodstream.

The second the needle had emptied, he tossed it into a biohazard bin and raked both hands through his hair. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here anymore.”

“Go back and keep Jess alive.” Using the crutch, I hopped across his surgery to the phone resting on the wall. A landline. Archaic in this day and age but technology I was grateful for.

Dialling a number I knew by heart, I waited until it connected with my hangar in Jakarta. The second Ametung answered, I growled, “Hire twenty mercenaries who aren’t afraid of getting their hands dirty. Use Quietus—their details are still on file.”

Pika tried to bite the cord, dangling upside down with his usual antics. I needed to console him. To offer some sort of commiseration that I was still his, even if every part of me was cloaked in rage.

But if I let empathy enter my soul in my current predicament…it wouldn’t just be my broken bones destroying me.

Eleanor…

“Anything else?” Ametung asked.

“Prepare the jet. Get the crew ready. I’m on my way.”

“Consider it done.”

I hung up.

I marched outside even as Cal’s voice followed me from his bed in the recovery ward. “Hey, sir. Sully!”

I didn’t stop.

“Go to Skittles, Pika. You can’t follow me where I’m going.”

I once again leapt from my body.

I let fury be my master.

The bird studied me, cursed me, lost me. He squeaked, then gave up on me, flying away from a demon.

I inhaled hard.

Tritec iced through my veins, numbing me, freeing me.

Free to bathe in blood and turn into a nightmare.

I took my place above such mundane activities of men.

I played chess from my place of watching, cursing my physical weakness as I hobbled with a crutch, walking on a broken leg, fractured ankle, and foot, slowly standing taller as Tritec-87 kicked in.

Heartbeat by heartbeat, breath by breath, the pain receded, the panic deleted, and fury welcomed me back.

My pawn had become a knight.

I was ready for the final checkmate.

I’m coming, Eleanor.

I’m coming…

Chapter Three

THE HUMAN PSYCHE HAD always intrigued me.

From the dynamics in the school playground to the ethics within work environments, human nature was a fickle beast.

I’d seen the same theme while travelling.

Some people could accept rules with no complaint while others boycotted the mere whisper of boundaries. Those who were used to travel had the inherent ability to adapt to a new situation while those who’d never stepped out of their comfort zone panicked at the slightest unforeseen change.

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