Page 94 of Nikola

A woman dressed in all black with silver-white hair stood at the top of the alley, her gun pointed at the two men.

I didn’t think as a vibration tore from my lips. “Nikola! Papa!”

I watched her pull the trigger, bullets slicing through the air and freezing time. In that suspended moment, Nikola reacted first, shoving my papa to the ground before rushing to push me behind him. I stumbled, falling to my knees, pain jolting through my thighs like a surge of electricity.

Nikola’s face contorted with agony as blood splattered onto the ground. His hand moved toward his gun, but time seemed to stretch out as another bullet struck him. Then another.

He dropped to his knees, then collapsed forward, shielding me with his broad body as chaos erupted around us.

I stared up at him, the grimace etched on his face sending a fresh wave of terror through me, my teeth chattering uncontrollably with fear.

“I’m okay,zayka,” he mouthed, but his lips struggled to move. His heavy exhale hit my cheeks, then his cheek came to rest on mine while my hands roamed all over him in a panic. My fingers brushed against something sticky and warm.Blood, I realized.

My breathing turned ragged, each gasp clawing its way out of my throat. My lips moved, desperately shaping his name, but I couldn’t tell if any sound escaped. The world around me blurred, muffled by the relentless pounding of my heartbeat. Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and unchecked.

Panic clawed at my chest as I watched him shift, his lips parting to murmur something unintelligible. Relief flickeredthrough the terror—he was still conscious. But then his body slumped forward, crushing me beneath his weight. The suffocating pressure pinned me down, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t think—until I felt it. The faint, warm caress of his breath against my cheek.

He was alive. He was still breathing.

I didn’t know how long we lay on the cold ground. I couldn’t see anything. For the first time in my life, I cursed the fates for making me deaf. I couldn’t see what was happening around me, making me feel blind as well as deaf.

I moved my hands, wincing at the stickiness coating my fingers. I found myself unable to move, so I gripped his body against mine, not daring to turn my face. Nikola’s breaths against my cheek were keeping me from mentally spiraling—nothing else.

Closing my eyes, all I could do was pray.

Pray that Papa was okay and he’d end whoever hurt Nikola. Pray that an ambulance would be here any moment. Pray that Nikola would live.

He had to. Nobody was allowed to steal the essence of such a larger-than-life man. Right?

Just when despair started to bubble in my throat, the heavy weight was lifted off of me and a strong hand pulled me by the arm. I stumbled and blinked, then my papa’s face came into focus and I was shoved into the car as I caught a glimpse of Nikola’s limp body.

I started fighting my papa, desperate to get to him. His brow was furrowed, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“Let me go. Let me go.” I didn’t know whether I was mouthing the words or vocalizing them. Maybe I was signing them. “I have to?—”

Papa gripped my face harder than ever before, forcing me to look at him. “Princess, it’s not safe out here. We have to get him to the hospital.”

It was all I needed to hear. I went stock-still, letting him shove me into the car. In the next breath, Nikola’s unconscious body was deposited next to me, and I began crying, cradling his big body crammed in the back of the sports car.

It wasn’t until we pulled up to the hospital that I realized Alexei had been driving.

38

NIKOLA

Beep. Beep.

A hospital smell—bleach and disinfectant—invaded my nostrils.

I attempted to peel open my eyelids, but they were too heavy and refused to cooperate. Next, I tried to move my mouth.

“S-Skye?” I tried to ask, but even my lips couldn’t move.

Maybe this was all a dream.

Beep. Beep.

No, it couldn’t be. I focused on the sound, and slowly other hushed voices came into focus.