Page 169 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

Then motion. I twitch a finger and touch cool leather at my side.

“Hello?” a male voice calls from somewhere in front of me. “You finally alive back there?”

I pry my eyes open, blinking against the deluge of sunlight.

“That’s an affirmative, she is alive. Welcome back,” the same man says, a twinkle of a laugh on the edge of his voice.

When my vision finally resolves, I realize I’m in the backseat of a car. The man talking to me is driving. I’m alone. No sign of Nikolai or the person who injected me with… What the hell was I injected with? I try to ask, but the words come out jumbled.

“You’re still coming off the sedative,” the man explains when he sees my confusion in the rearview mirror. “Nikolai told me to tell you to relax. You’re safe.”

Easy for him to say!I try to scream. In reality, it sounds more like, “Ease-fhim-seh.”

We pull to a stop at an intersection and the man turns to scrutinize me. I finally recognize him, from the night I fell down the stairs at Zhukova Incorporated. He was the man Nikolai was talking to in his office.

“Arslan,” he says by way of introduction, waggling his fingers in a saucy little wave. “Considering all the shit you’ve put my boss through, I’m surprised we haven’t officially met yet.”

I clear my throat and run my tongue over my lips before I try to speak again. My lips are slightly more cooperative this time. “All the shit I put him through?” I rasp. “More like the shit that he’s…”

Arslan smirks. “You’ve been awake two minutes and you’re already arguing. No wonder he had to drug you.”

“He didn’t need to drug me! He just needed to… to leave me alone. What the hell is going on?” I claw at the seatbelt across my chest, suddenly very eager to be free of anything restraining me.

“I’d leave that on if I was you. Traffic in the city is a bitch, and I’m trying to keep to the schedule. You’re still drowsy.”

“The city?”

Arslan grins. “Welcome back to the Big Apple, baby.”

I look out the window. Steel buildings pressing close to the street. Hordes of people whisking along the sidewalks. I see a subway station entrance and feel my chest constrict.

“How did I—? Where is—? What did he—?” All of the questions fizzle out before I can finish them.

“Shit,” Arslan says, “I’m not good at this. Bad bedside manner, I’ve been told. More than once. But, um, let’s see, start with the basics… You’re fine, okay? I’m not going to hurt you. No one is. You’re here because Nikolai was concerned.”

I’m here. In New York City. I’m here. And where is…?

“My sister,” I gasp. “Where is Elise?”

“In another car. She’s fine, too. But Nikolai didn’t want her to see you all zonked. He wanted to give you a chance to wake up and calm down.”

Rage ripples through me. “He wants me to calm down? After he kidnapped me? Is he fucking delusional?”

“What can I say? He’s a charmer.” Arslan chuckles, but nothing about this is funny.

“What does he plan to do with me? Lock me up because I wouldn’t go to a doctor?”

He glances back at me in the rearview as we resume driving. “You shouldn’t joke about things like that.”

An icy dread slips down my back. The last time I was here, I had some level of protection. An employer, coworkers, et cetera. If I disappear now, Tony won’t so much as call my cell to see why I missed a shift. He’ll replace me in two minutes flat and keep on moving. I can practically hear him in my head now:Dead bartenders are bad for business.

“Will he really lock me up?”

Arslan shrugs. “Not if you cooperate. But he really is worried about you.”

I snort. “Yeah, right. If he was worried, he wouldn’t have drugged me.”

“Believe me, I know Nikolai. Drugging you is actually a good sign. It’s a lot better than being dead, don’t you think? That’s what happens to people he doesn’t care about.”

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