Jesus.I didn’t believe in him. Not anymore. But it was his name on my lips as I trailed Folk into the building, sensing hell even before Folk paused, his spare hand raised, telling us towait.
A heartbeat later, he surged forward, kicking a door, and I braced myself for the brutal snap of gunfire. For the dismantling tsunami of adrenaline.
But it never came. Folk spun around, sweeping the remaining space ahead. Then he turned back to the door he’d booted open and kicked it again. “We’re too late.”
9
NASH
I had no time to react. Before I knew it, three extra bodies swamped the space, and strong hands yanked me upright, propelling me outside.
Cold air hit me so fast I wondered if I’d died and not noticed. Then horror gripped me again. Folk’s growled words returned to me with a choking gut punch, and I fought the hold some utter cunt had on me.
We’re too late.
No.
We couldn’t be.
My fists went crazy, impacting the unyielding flesh of my captor. I hurt them. But they didn’t let me go, and as my surroundings made themselves known and a familiar scent of hemp and trees swamped me, it dawned on me that I was being restrained by the only fucker brave enough to hold me when I lost my fucking head.
Saint.
His arms tightened around me, shielding me from whatever horrors Folk had found inside. Whatevertragedy.
We’re too late.
We’re too late.
We’re too late.
“No.” Saint’s voice tore from his chest like he was in pain. “Not like this.”
His answer to words I’d spoken aloud without realising made no sense.
And I couldn’t breathe.
Those were the sole thoughts in my head as Saint held me and a thousand lifetimes passed before he let me go.
I stumbled away from him as Alexei emerged from the prefab.
He had blood on his hands.
On his clothes.
Vomit rushed my oesophagus.
No.
I staggered again and Alexei darted forward, catching me, treading on my feet as if he could root me to the ground and stop my brain exploding. “Mishka is not here.”
Mishka.
Locke.
“He’s not here?”
“He is not.” Alexei scanned my equilibrium. Then released me from his bloodied grip. “Neither is Viktor. The dead men inside are all Crows. The nomad is identifying them.”