Page 74 of Owned By Shadows

“But?” I press, sensing the unspoken concern, my stomach churning.

Hunter hesitates, then sighs. “But he’s taking risks. Rowan says they’re planning some kind of reconnaissance tonight, at what they believe is one of Sergi’s medical facilities.”

Fear tightens around my heart, the monitor beeping faster in response. “They’re deliberately getting close to Sergi? Before we even arrive?”

Stupid fucking men!

“Nik believes it’s necessary intelligence gathering,” Hunter says, his tone making it clear that he doesn’t agree, but what can any of us do? We are not with them, and this is precisely the reason I didn’t want to split up. “Rowan will keep him in check.”

“Like he’s not just as bloodthirsty and fucking crazy to want to hurt Sergi?” I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice. The separation had been Nik’s idea—divide our group to divertSergi’s attention. Then he took Rowan, leaving Hunter and Roman to protect me. It was a tactical decision that feels more like abandonment with each passing day.

Hunter squeezes my hand, his emerald eyes locked onto mine. “Nik knows what he’s doing, Iris. He always has.” His jaw is tight, and I know he hates this as much as I do, if not a little more. Hunt needs to be in control, needs to know that he’s able to protect us all, and right now, he’s not.

“That’s what scares me, Daddy,” I whisper. “He’s always had to deal with Sergi alone, and yes, he can play angles we don’t even see, but what if this time he’s miscalculated? What if Sergi is expecting exactly this move?”

Before Hunter can answer, Andrei emerges from the cockpit, his face grim. “We have a problem. Singapore Air Traffic Control just contacted us with an urgent security notification. Someone filed a flight plan identical to ours, departing thirty minutes after we did.”

My heart jolts inside my chest, bile stinging the back of my throat.

Hunter gets on his feet instantly. “Coincidence?”

“Not likely,” Andrei replies, his brows low. “Same aircraft type, similar call sign. They’re shadowing us.”

“Sergi,” I breathe out, one hand going protectively to my belly as my breaths shorten, the feeling of the walls getting smaller making my vision blur at the edges.

Hunter’s expression hardens. “Change course. Now. Roman!”

Hunter and Andrei hurry toward the cockpit, but the plane banks sharply, sending medical equipment sliding. I grip the armrests, feeling the baby kick vigorously in protest at the sudden movement.

“It’s okay,” I whisper to my unborn son, unsure if I’m trying to convince the child or myself. “We’re almost there. Almost safe.”

Roman is suddenly in the seat next to me, buckling in and grabbing my hand.

“Nothing will happen to you or our baby, Princess,” he vows, his brown eyes serious and currently the only thing anchoring me here and keeping the panic attack from overwhelming me. “I swear it. We will protect you both. He will not have you.”

But as the plane continues its evasive turn, the medical monitors start beeping in alarm around me, no doubt because of my current stress levels. I knew safety was still a distant hope. Between what feels like my failing health and Sergi’s relentless pursuit, simply reaching London alive would be victory enough for now.

The actual battle—the one Nik and Alexei have been planning for months—still lies ahead. New Year’s Eve. The night that will determine all our fates.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“BODIES” BY BRYCE FOX

ROWAN

Iforgot just how fucking miserable London in December is. Drizzle soaks into my all-black attire as I wait in a hidden spot, watching the Harley Street building that we suspect is where Sergi is planning to take Iris if he gets his hands on her.

It’s cold too, the air I breathe puffing out in front of me as I wait. For what, I’m not fucking sure, but apparently Nik has a plan. I guess at least the fog provides excellent cover, though it’s making it a bitch to see what’s going on.

I think nothing would have been better than my plan of just blowing up the entire building. I seem to have developed an appreciation for explosives recently, and just so happen to have some stashed about my person tonight. A few minor charges, for just in case. I thought they might come in handy, even if Nik didn’t like my idea to just rig the entire building.

Don’t get me wrong, nothing can beat the feel of warm blood flowing over your skin from someone whose throat you just slit.Or watching as their entrails leave their body and they have a second to watch it happen before they go into shock.

But sometimes an old fashion bomb is pretty fucking effective. Sends a real pretty message too, all that fire lighting up the sky.

My earpiece crackles. “Perimeter sweep complete,” Dima’s deep voice comes through, his accent thicker in the cold. “Two additional guards on the east side. Motion sensors as expected.” Always efficient, our Dima. While Nik and I take the direct approach, he’s handling comms and surveillance from a parked van two streets over, making sure we don’t get any unwelcome surprises.

Nik is round the back, watching in the pissing rain just as I am. We have to be careful. There are security cameras, motion detection sensors, and timed guard rotations. All a bit much for a building that’s not in use and supposedly under renovation, if you ask me.

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