I wake up to pain.
Horrible pain.
My head feels like my brains are leaking out, and my back is one giant spasm.
But on the plus side, I’m not dead—though I almost wish I were.
Opening my eyes, I find myself cradled in the arms of an orc, being carried out of the Izbushka restaurant.
“Kit,” I croak out, then wince as my ribs scream in protest.
“You’re alive,” Kit’s orc voice booms out. “Keep it that way.”
“You were there,” I rasp out, “right after Baba Yaga knocked me out with that skillet. Then you turned into a drekavac and killed her, didn’t you?”
“How did you—”
“Probably a vision,” Felix says in our ears. “Sasha, I’m so glad you’re okay. I hope you don’t mind, but I texted Nero when Baba Yaga was killed. He asked me to do it. I believe his limo was parked just out of reach of Brighton Beach, waiting for her death to be rid of the contract so he could swoop in and help.”
The pain makes it difficult to parse Felix’s words.
Kit exits the restaurant, her uneven stride a torture for my broken body.
Vlad is lying on the sidewalk, already looking better. Lucretia is still holding down writhing Ariel.
A limo screeches to a halt next to the curb.
Right.
Felix mentioned a limo a second ago.
The driver’s door opens, and Nero jumps out with supernatural speed. A familiar-looking woman exits from the passenger side.
She’s the one I bumped into on the way out of the office.
Now that I’m not running, I recognize her as Isis—the healer with prices only Nero could afford.
Pain makes it hard to think, but I still wonder what Isis was doing walking into Nero’s building just as I was running out. Did he summon her ahead of time? That would make him more psychic than I am. Also, it would imply that he knew I’d escape my cell. But if that’s true, why not stop me? And how could he have—
“Put her in the back,” Nero growls. “Carefully.”
Kit picks up her pace, and everything hurts so badly I stop thinking and pray to pass out.
The agony grows almost intolerable when Kit places me on the seat.
I must have countless broken bones, or worse.
“You’ll have to quadruple the usual rate,” Isis tells Nero after she gives me a quick scan. “This is going to hurt me a lot.”
“Fine,” Nero says without a moment’s hesitation. “Hurry.”
Isis demonstratively sighs, then points her hands at me.
The golden energy streams out, and I feel my wounds closing and broken bones straightening.
When she healed us the other week, Isis’s skin had a healthy olive tint. Today, she’s paler, and the more of her energy she sends out, the sicklier she looks. Before my very eyes, a couple of her jet-black hairs turn gray.
A pleasant warmth flows through me, and my pain morphs into pleasure.
“Make her sleep,” Nero commands.
“Wait,” I say, reaching into my pocket to pull out the smoke grenade. “Throw this into the restaurant and have Vlad toss in his firebird egg.”
Nero takes the grenade, removes the pin, and tosses it at the glass above the door.
The glass shatters into tiny pieces, and a few breaths later, the fire alarm activates.
“Do it,” Nero commands, looking at Vlad on the pavement. “Erase this place.”
Grunting in pain, Vlad takes out the firebird egg and pitches it inside the restaurant.
My lips curve in an evil smile as I watch the Izbushka go up in flames.
“An hour nap will do you good,” Isis whispers, shooting me a stronger pulse of her energy.
“Wait,” I want to say again, but my eyelids grow heavy and I sink into a healing sleep.
I open my eyes to find Nero holding me above my bed.
Nero in my bedroom?
“This must be a dream,” I mutter as he gently lays me down.
“Yes.” His deep voice is a croon. “This is just a dream.”
“I like dreams like this,” I say dazedly and grab his collar. “Are you sure it is a dream?”
Nero doesn’t reply, but his limbal rings almost overtake his eyes.
Pulling on his collar, I raise myself up so that our lips nearly touch.
He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t lean down either.
That’s fine. All the healing energy roaming through my body is giving me an almost superhuman strength—and the libido of a succubus.
Easily lifting myself the rest of the distance, I lock lips with Nero. They’re surprisingly soft, his breath vaguely minty-tasting—
Someone clears her throat nearby. “Is this why you wanted me here?” Isis asks. “Because I’m not sure I have enough strength left to heal her if—”
“No.” Nero reluctantly pulls away from me. “Finish your job.”
The healing energy makes my lids heavy again.
“Sleep tight,” Nero says from far away, and the warm energy leaves me no choice but to obey.