Page 156 of Emperor of Wrath

I rush back to him as he struggles to lift his head out of the water, now ankle-deep.

It’s still. Fucking. Rising.

We have to move. Now.

I go to grab him under the arms again. He grunts as his eyes focus a little more on me.

“Annika…”

“Come on!!” I scream, trying to drag him.

His arm muscles flex as he pulls away, shoving one knee underneath himself. His face twists in agony as he drags himself to his feet, turning to let his dark eyes pierce into me.

“You okay?” he grunts, his jaw clenched in pain.

“I’m fine!” I yell over the rushing water as it creeps higher and higher up our calves. I reach down to grab his sword off the ground. “Kenzo?—”

“Stairs!” he hisses, nodding his chin at the main room that is quickly filling with water. My eyes follow his, locking on the metal staircase bolted to the wall that climbs up to the second-floor metal walkway.

“Okay!” I scream, wrapping my arm around his waist and draping his over my shoulders. Kenzo groans as he walks, leaning heavily on me as I stoop under his weight. I can feel the warm stickiness of his blood soaking into my shirt.

We’re running out of time.

The water is past our knees as we exit the tunnel back into the circular, double-height room. I take another step forward, but then shriek before I yank us back.

The floor is gone. I almost just stepped into nothingness beneath the inky black water.

Ignoring the pure terror swirling up in me, I grab him tighter, keeping us against the wall as we inch around to the stairs.

The water is up to our waists.

“Can you climb?!”

He glances at me, his face pale as he nods. “For you, I can fucking climb,” he wheezes.

It’s slow going, but we take them one at a time, his arm heavy on my shoulders as he grips the railing with a white-knuckle grip. The water level stays at our knees, rising in time with our ascent.

When we get to the top, we shuffle and stumble our way over to one of the two tunnels leading out, mirroring the floor below us.

“One sec,” he groans, his knees buckling as he clings to the wall.

I stop, gritting my teeth as I help lower him to the floor, sitting up against the brick wall of the tunnel. Kenzo glances down at the hole in his side, his wet clothes soaked red as the blood continues to flow out of it.

I rip open his shirt, trying to ignore his hiss of pain as I open it wide and examine the wound.

Holy fuck, that’s a bullet hole.

Without thinking, I yank my top off, pressing the fabric to his wound.

“Hold this there,” I command, searching desperately for something to tie it with before I realize I can use my belt.

“When did you become a triage medic,” Kenzo chuckles quietly, wincing when he tries to force a smile.

I’m not smiling. He’s losing a lot of blood.

I wrap the belt around the shirt, cinching it tight to keep the cloth in place over the hole. It’s not going to save him, but it might buy us some additional time.

“Annika.”

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