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Only, when we went to Knox’s old room where he left her, Dove was no longer there, the window thrown open to the chill early morning air and no fucking sign of her. The security guards on my father’s property were all dead, the dogs too, and my father had been called away on a fool’s fucking errand; a disagreement between the two parties that we were meant to brokering a deal between. Only, those parties disappeared into the night like smoke, leaving us waiting for hours and telling me that clearly, the whole fucking job was a setup.
I think what hurts the most is that Tarl didn’t trust us to help, like he didn’t know that we would do anything for him, but he’s one of us and has been a part of us for more years than I care to remember. It smacked a little of Dove’s betrayal and my stomach has been in knots ever since.
“Where the fuck are they?” Knox grits out, pausing in his own pacing, so close to losing his shit, I’m surprised the room isn’t in ruins yet. Though, it will be if we don’t find them soon.
As it is, we’ve had to come to the last town on the Turkish-Iran border, and are waiting while my dad organizes visas for us to cross into Iran. We’ll head to Tehran, Tarl’s home city, and from there, well, fuck knows, but we will find them. Nothing else is acceptable.
Sweat makes the linen shirt I’m wearing stick to my skin, and although I fucking loathe the lack of air-con, I hate not knowing where my soulmate and chosen brother are even more.
I glimpse Jude just lying on the disgusting bed, eyes vacant as he stares at the ceiling fan which does nothing other than push hot air around the room.
“We’ll find them,” I say, Jude not even blinking, so I step closer to him. “Jude, I swear we will find them.” He slowly turns his head to me, and my jaw tightens at the hopelessness in his eyes.
“You read his letter, Aeron. He’s not coming back. And fuck knows what’s happened to Nightingale. If those people got hold of her…” His voice trails off as a tear slips down the side of his face, and not for the first time, I want to fucking skin Tarl alive, brother or no, for putting that sadness into Jude.
I can’t let myself think of the way I left her, angry at me for betraying her confidence, hurt by my lack of control, something that I pride myself on. If I think about it too much, anger being the last thing to pass between us, there won’t be a place on earth that doesn’t burn.
“We’ll find them,” I repeat, my tone hard and I turn to head over towards the window just as my phone rings. Taking it out of my linen pants, I look down, my heart racing when I see it’s from a foreign number with an Iranian code. “Yes?” I answer, bringing it up to my ear with trembling hands.
“Aeron?” Tarl’s voice sounds in my ear, and I swear if I didn’t have years of training, I would fall to my fucking ass at the sound of it.
“Where the fuck are you, Tarl?” I snarl, my voice biting, but shit, I’m equal parts relieved and enraged to hear him on the other end, my hand shaking as I clutch my phone like a lifeline. He chuckles, fucking bastard.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” he deadpans, and my shoulders slump, releasing the tension that was giving me a headache. “Lark is with me, we’re with friends.” This time I do drop, my knees hitting the carpet hard as relief brings me to them.
“S–she’s, okay?” I stutter, the room behind me deathly silent.
“She will be,” he replies, not answering my question but letting me know that something isn’t quite right. He sighs after a moment. “I didn’t know they’d take her too, Aeron. I fucked up.”
My fist clenches at my side and I have to take several breaths before I can speak again. “The main thing is you’re both alive. Where are you? We’re in Dogubeyazit waiting for Dad to come back with our visas so we can travel into Iran.”
“We’re at a safe house, I can’t say more, just in case, although I think Afshin was working on his own,” he says, and I remember the name from years ago. Afshin was the man who killed his family.
“Are you okay to travel? Is she okay to travel?” I fire, knowing that he’ll tell me his story soon enough. We just need to get to them first.
“Yes, wait for my message, I’ll arrange a meeting point. Give me your address and I’ll get the coordinates to you.” He sounds tired but is back to business like always, and I’m guessing running on autopilot. I reel off the name of our hotel and then we hang up.
Taking a huge inhale, I stare down at the screen of my phone for a moment.
“Well?” Knox grunts, and I get up from my knees, turning to face them.
“They’re both alive, in a safe place, and he’s organizing a way for us to meet up. We’ll take it from there,” I tell them, more relief washing through me when I see Jude sitting up and his eyes focused for the first time since we read that fucking letter.
“And Nightingale?” Jude questions, and I swallow.
“He didn’t say too much, it wasn’t a secure line, but she’s able to travel and they’re together,” I inform him, wishing I could have spoken to her, heard her voice for myself, but I didn’t want to delay seeing her or him, so I didn’t push the issue.
“So, what, now we wait?” Knox questions, and I can hear the frustration in his voice. I feel it too.
“Yes. He’ll send a message but said for us to wait here, so maybe he’s going through non-digital channels,” I say, turning to face the window again, looking out over the street that is rapidly becoming dark as the sun sets.
Though you best hurry the fuck up Tarl, I think, my eyes unseeing the scene before me. I just need to feel her, to see her, and know that she’s okay.
* * *
“Hurt” by Bahari
Lark
