Page 105 of Royal Deception

What if they already have her? What if they’re torturing her, or worse? My stomach churns. I feel sick.

As though sensing my rising panic, I hear my brother’s voice cut through the fog.

“Rory. We’ll get her back,” Lucky says, jaw clenched, voice steady and sure. But it doesn’t help. It can’t help because he doesn’t get it. Clary is out there, alone, in their hands, and I… I…

“How?” I snap, rounding on him. “Tell me,how, Lucky? We don’t know where the fuck she is, we don’t know who has her. She could already be?—”

I stop myself. I can’t say it. I won’t.

“She’snotdead.” Lucky's voice is firm, like he’s daring me to argue. “She’snot.”

I clench my jaw so tight it hurts. My hands are shaking.

Lucky exhales, running a hand through his hair. “What about Lev? He knows the Russians inside and out. We can use him.”

I bark out a bitter laugh. “Lev’s probably on afucking planeright now. Taking his family and running as far from this city as he can get. You think he’d stick around after what we did to him?”

Lucky doesn’t have an answer to that.

I shake my head. "I should’ve gone after her that day, dammit. I should’ve fucking stopped her…” My voice cracks on the words. My chest is too tight, my thoughts moving too fast, slipping through my fingers like water.

Lucky steps in front of me, gripping my shoulder, forcing me to stop moving. “We’re gonna get her back.”

“How, Lucky?” I rasp, my throat raw. “Tell me how.”

His grip tightens. “We figure it out. One step at a time. But right now? You need to fucking breathe, Rory.”

I shove him off, dragging both hands through my hair. Breathe? How the fuck am I supposed to breathe?

Clary is gone.

And I have no idea where to start looking.

I yank my phone out so fast I nearly drop it, fingers fumbling as I pull up Clary’s number. I hit call.

One ring.

Two.

Then—voicemail.

“Fuck!” I slam my fist against the table so hard the lamp rattles. I hit redial.

Nothing.

I try again. And again. And again. Every time, it goes straight to voicemail.

“Rory.” Lucky’s voice cuts through the storm in my head. He’s at my side now, hands up like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Panicking isn’t gonna help.”

I whip around. “Oh, and what the fuck will, Lucky?” My voice is raw, my heart hammering. “Because unless you’ve got agoddamn miracle up your sleeve, she’s gone, and we don’t even know where to fucking start!”

“We start by tracking her.”

I stop pacing. “What?”

Lucky is already moving, sliding into my desk chair and pulling my laptop toward him. “Clary’s phone might be off, but that doesn’t mean it’s invisible.” He cracks his knuckles, eyes locked on the screen. “If it was on when she went into Russian territory, I can get a rough location off the last cell tower it pinged.”

I swallow hard, stepping closer. “You can do that?”