Page 40 of Merciless Queen

White.

Heaven?

Nah, too easy. There were no pearly gates, fluffy clouds, or a gentle chorus of angels—all the things my mother claimed we’d see in the afterlife.

In the next flash, the light fades out in exchange for complete shadows.

Hell? Death coming to suck me down below? To burn my soul, probably right alongside my father for the criminal life he led.

“Zeno.”

With that simple sound, with my name spoken by my angel, colours bloom. Blue, purple, yellow, and green.

But mainly blue. A sapphire colour of eyes so multifaceted, so knowing, they draw me back to the top of consciousness. Lull me forward, promising a more painful death than what I nearly experienced.

Because when I open my eyes, ignoring the room around me or even the position my body’s strapped down in, it’s not a guardian angel above me.

No, Madre’s wrong, as I always knew she was. Someone like me doesn’t get one ofthose.

Instead death stands beside me in the form of the Merciless Queen.

“You really shouldn’t be sitting here,you know.”

Anastasia’s voice jolts me out of the stare down I’m winning against my herbal tea, in time to see her and Lev walking through the doorway of the spare bedroom. Lev’s head is buried in his phone, his fingers working rapidly as visible frustration rolls off of him. He’s irritated that the Cosa Nostra is so locked down and he hasn’t been able to break through their secrets.

It was only this morning I discovered Zeno injured in the forest, but it’s felt like so much longer.

I drag my eyes from them to the bed across the room, where he is still peacefully passed out, thanks to the drugs the doctor injected into him. After lugging him from his hiding spot in the forest and having others carry him inside, we got the doctor the Bratva keeps on retainer to come and help heal what seemed like a basic gunshot wound, but was much more intense. Shards of the bullet remained behind in his leg, which explained the fever Zeno was rocking when I found him. He’s been in and out since then, delirious from the near infection. According to the doctor, even a few more hours would have complicated the mannerfurther, but since I found him when I had, healing should be fairly straightforward.

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

Anastasia crosses the room, her brother following. “Seems like you’re worried about him, that’s all.”

“Doc said he’s likely to wake soon.” I glance at Lev, using him to change the topic from me and onto his task. “Anything yet?”

“Nope.” His mouth flattens into a line.

Anastasia glances toward the bed. “I still think you should have sent him straight to the mountains and tossed in the incinerators. Would have been more satisfactory than healing him all for him to die.”

“Dead, the truth dies with him. Alive, he can provide answers.”

“Can and will are two different things,” she points out.

“He’ll talk eventually,” I say definitively.

It’s a truth I firmly believe because this whole situation feels larger than what he let on. Whoever hired him to take me out likely wanted a quick job—I would, if I were them—and he could have finished me off easily without major consequences. At the club for example, when my guard was down and the civilians around could have been blamed. Instead, he waited and lured me into a deeper ploy.

“Then when he does,” I finish my earlier thought, “he dies.”

“Well...” Anastasia drops her arms. “...what I actually came in here to say is unless you need me, I’ll be in my studio, practicing for a gig I was hired last-minute for. Some bachelorette party or something. Rich bitches are going classy this round and want a private performance. But who just happens to be attending the event is a certain politician’s sister. This might be another lead on enemy number one.”

Everything with Zeno momentarily melts away as my other goal resurfaces. The Cosa Nostra might be a huge problem, butmy personal vendettas also can’t be ignored. Boris will be found, one way or another, so fuck the Cosa Nostra for taking my focus away from that. Seems like so long ago when I had his bookkeeper in my warehouse, but it’s only been a matter of days.

I smile gratefully, unable to convey my appreciation for everything she does in a simple quick glance. “Thank you.”

She nods and goes, Lev trailing behind her, and they shut the door, leaving me with Zeno once more.

After another few minutes, I rest my tea onto the nearby windowsill and stand, slowly making my way toward the bed. Zeno’s on his back, the blanket drawn up to his waist, and his chest has been left bare after I ripped his shirt when dragging him out of the words. His eyes are shut, and he looks completely at peace in enemy territory as his dreams lull him to a safe place. One away from me and what’ll be coming to him.

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