Page 13 of Wicked Knight 2

The water fountain in the middle of the courtyard made this place feel less like a prison. “Do you live here?”

“Yes. I said no more questions.” He gestured toward the front door of the home, which sprawled all around the courtyard. “Past the double doors, and up the stairs.”

Suddenly, I didn’t want him to leave my side. He might’ve threatened to kill me five minutes ago, but at least he was talking to me. I could tell he felt sad about his brother being hurt.

“Would you go with me?”

He swallowed, as if considering something. After a long minute, he conceded, “Fine.” He strode ahead of me.

With a quick glance behind me toward the dark and scary corridor that led to the cells near the parking lot, I followed close behind him. I couldn’t help but admire the sheer size of this place. It was a mix between a Spanish hacienda style home and barracks. The living room past the vestibule had high ceilings with wood beams and large plants that accentuated the terracotta tile. What kind of place was this?

At the top of the stairs, my guide-slash-kidnapper opened the first door on the right. “Your OR.” He ushered me inside. “That’s Maxim. Fix him.”

I stared at the hospital bed at the end of the oversized suite. Not exactly an OR, but Maxim was already hooked up to an IV with a guy in a white coat tending to his wounds. “I thought you said he was stabbed.”

“Blade or bullet is all the same.” He waved his hand in dismissal.

“Not the same at all.” I furrowed my eyes at him, then shifted my attention back to the doctor. “You said you had killed the old doctor.”

“We did. This is the new one, but he’s not a doctor yet.”

Omigod. “Okay.” I approached the new doctor. “I’m Dr. Salvatore. And you are?”

“Anatoli. Nice to meet you.” His pleasantness took me by surprise.

“I’m Ivan.” The brother barged in. “Ivan Belov.”

“Nice to meet you both.” I smiled at him pleasantly, the way I would’ve done in an OR, then turned my attention back to Anatoli. “What do we have here?”

“Um. Shots. Two shots to the chest. One on the side.”

“And one to the face?” I pointed at the patient’s swollen face. The dressings on his nose were covered in blood.

“No, that happened earlier. Broken nose. I took care of it,” he said proudly.

“Nice work,” I said to Anatoli and leaned over the patient to take a better look. “Two attacks in one day? Your boss must be a piece of work.”

“Busy day at the office.” Ivan chuckled, appearing in my line of sight.

“May I?” I asked Anatoli, nodding once toward the injured area.

“Yeah, please.” He stepped back and removed his latex gloves, then offered me a fresh pair.

As I donned the gloves, I examined the wounds. My best guess was that he was shot at an angle. Surgery was the only way to know for sure if the bullets did any damage on the way in or out. “Can you help me?” I asked Anatoli. “I need to see if the bullets found their way out.”

He moved into place right away and lifted the patient’s side. “Two of them did. The one in his shoulder didn’t.” He showed me all the locations.

“He needs surgery.” I glanced up at Ivan. “Like right now. He’s in bad shape.”

“Do what you gotta do?” He pointed at his brother.

“He needs to go to a hospital, where a whole team can operate. He can barely breathe.” I pointed at the massive splint covering his face. “You’re asking for the impossible here.”

“That’s not our problem,” a deep voice with a Russian accent said from the door, “save my son.”

“That’s Papa.” Ivan leaned over Maxim to whisper to me.

“I would love to help your son, but I need an OR.”

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