“Then yelling ‘YOLO 100, bitch!” Nago quipped.
They all laughed, only to sober at the thought of the incorrigible cousin who’d been kidnapped by her fathers’ worst enemy.
“Even after watching it twice, I can’t believe Drákon just grabbed her like that,” Nago told them.
“Wish I could say the same.” Rafes took Myrna’s other hand as well, needing to feel even more of her skin against his. “But I’ve known Damianos Drákon was most likely planning some sort of revenge against Olafr and FJ and perhaps even Myrna for years now. I just didn’t know he’d target Ola first.”
Rafes shook his head, telling both his brother and Myrna, “I’m afraid the problem is much more complicated now. Not only do we need to find Ola. We need to rescue her and possibly deprogram her, which…” Rafes swallowed before admitting. “My people in mental services still haven’t entirely figured out how to do.”
“Wow, this is so jacked,” Nago said.
“Yeah. The best-case scenario is we’ll get a note soon with a list of his demands,” Rafes answered.
“And the worst-case scenario?” Nago asked, his tone concerned.
Rafes had been afraid that would be Nago’s next question.
Knud answered before he could, his voice as hard and cynical as it used to be before he struck the marriage jackpot. “Her fathers killed his father. Worst case scenario is he’s trying to take from FJ and Olafr like they took from him.”
Nago’s answering curse sounded both angry and mournful.
“But we’re not there yet,” Rafes reminded both of his brothers. “There’s still the chance Damianos will be in contact. And meanwhile, at least we know who we’re looking for now. But we’re going to need some help. That’s why I hailed you, Knud. About that super-secret location that Alexei Rustanov arranged for Fensa. I think that dragon of hers can help us find Damianos…”
Now it was Knud’s turn to curse. “Fuck, now I’ve got to ask my father-in-law for another favor. Looks like the fam and me will definitely be staying in this new house.”
“You moved to a new house?” Nago asked. “When did that happen.”
Rafes was surprised, too. Knud moved into a two-bedroom apartment after snagging the famous daughter of one of the world’s richest men, less than a year ago. “It’s kind of soon to be moving, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Daddy Rustanov bought us a castle,” Knud grumbled. “I’ll be in touch after I talk to the other trillionaire pain-in-my-ass.”
Chapter Eleven
OLA
I wake inside a bright room with the immediate sense that it’s been a longer than usual time since I last opened my eyes. But not long enough.
Images of what happened immediately assail me…Akwasi with the gun to his head…sitting across from a seven-foot plus Greek statue who smelled like fire and ancient cologne…trying to run…
“Ola. Don’t do that again.”
My arm! That ancient asshole’s chest broke my arm, I remember with a gasp. Reflexively, I raise the broken appendage to see it again. But…
Nothing. Save for a faint scar where the bone split skin and a slight dull ache at the breaking point, you’d never know that it was broken.
However, any relief I might have felt over that fact is quickly erased by what I see around my other wrist. A chain. A silver chain. And by silver, I don’t mean the manmade chrome alloy that most people refer to as silver these days. I mean the native metal that burns like a motherfucker when supernatural folks like me touch it.
The only reason my skin isn’t sizzling now is because of the cloth padding in between me and the cuff’s underside. But that doesn’t mean I can pull myself lose. I find out the hard, burn-y way that the edges have no protection when I try to use my wolf strength to tug my hand out.
“Oh good, you’re awake! I was beginning to think you’d stay asleep forever.”
I lift my head at the sound of the voice.
Kirk, the gatekeeper, is sitting in a chair near the bed, his smile warm and bright. He’d sullenly stood there when my uncles and I came out to Yellow Mountain for the poorly attended ceremony to appoint him as the official North Dakota gatekeeper. But now he’s smiling down at me like we’re long lost friends.
“I wouldn’t try getting out of that chain again,” he warns. “It’s made out of one-hundred percent silver. Had a helluva time attaching the cuff after your wolf healed your arm and you shifted back.”
Wait, I shifted? That must mean…
My heart surges with hope as I reach my free arm up to pat my throat…only to sink when I feel the biocollar still around my neck. I also notice that I’m dressed in some kind of linen nightgown, old-fashioned, loose, and long.
“Master told me to take it off you after you fainted. Then he had me put it back on as soon as your wolf was done healing your arm,” Kirk explains. His tone helpful, even if his actions were not.