“Of course not. Telling her would have only complicated matters.”
“How does she seem…?”
“About what, dear?”
“You’re going to make me say it?”
Sarah grins wickedly. “I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
“How does she seem about my baby in her womb?” I grimace.
“Oh! That silly thing?” Her smile fades somewhat. “She doesn’t trust me enough to confide in me, Kian. She feels lost. Trapped. I’ve experienced that enough to recognize it on someone else’s face.”
“I’m gonna get her out of here,” I vow.
“First things first,” Sarah says, splattering her own clothes with a little blood. “We get you out of here.” She finishes up and pushes the bag of remaining blood into my hands. “Pretend it’s Guinness and take a nice, big swig.”
“Oi. Don’t joke. That’s grim, even for you.” I hold my breath and take a gulp just as Sarah starts banging on the door, her face contorted into controlled hysteria.
“Help! Help! Guards, get in here! Hurry!”
The door bursts open as I stash the bag of blood under the mattress. My mouth is suffused with the metallic taste of blood from who-the-fuck-knows-where.
I flop to the ground and start spasming. All three guards pour in with their weapons drawn. Clearly, they’ve assumed I’m attacking the doctor. Instead, they find me thrashing around on the floor next to the bed, spurting out blood intermittently and groaning like a dying goat. I let my eyes pinwheel around in their sockets.
“He’s got some internal bleeding!” Sarah tells the guards. “I need to turn him over. You’ll have to uncuff him.”
I can’t see the guards’ expressions as Sarah makes a show out of trying to roll me over.
“Hurry!” she barks. “He’ll die if I don’t do this fast!”
I hear the scurrying of feet. One of the guards kneels behind me and undoes the cuffs. My hands fall free instantly.
The scalpel is digging into my side. Sarah was right—it’s sharp as hell. The skin at my waist parts effortlessly beneath the blade. More blood—my own, this time—starts to trickle down my torso as Sarah and the guards work together to heave me onto my back.
“Okay, I need two of you to hold him down for me,” Sarah says urgently. “Hurry, or we might lose him! Rokiades still needs the Irish bastard.”
Still uncertain but in no mood to argue with the fiery doctor, two of the guards crouch down on either side of me.
It’s the last thing they’ll ever do.
I snatch the scalpel out of my waistband. Before either one has a chance to realize what’s happening, my arm slashes across the air. I slit the first guard’s throat so fast that he never even realizes it’s happened.
The second one has maybe a quarter-second of awareness before his throat is slit, too.
The third guard is standing in front of me as I rise. He’s got a look of sheer horror etched on his face. Frozen in place, the gun dangling from his hand uselessly.
But before he’s even realized he’s still armed, Sarah’s hand flashes from behind. His throat opens up just like the others. His knees buckle a second later and he hits the ground with a low thud.
All in all, they’ve been in the room for less than thirty seconds. What a fucking way to die.
“Nice work,” I say, looking down at Sarah’s kill. “Clean.”
“You taught me well. Not bad yourself, either.”
“I taught you everything you know,” I remind her with a laugh. “I didn’t teach you everything I know.” I bend over to sweep up the guns from the dead men. “Time to go, though,” I say, handing one of the firearms over to Sarah.
Once we’re properly armed, we run out of the cell, keeping our eyes open.