Page 123 of The Games of Madmen

Rodion

Zsighs again. Having had enough, I throw my chair back and march to his desk, grabbing his shirt and dragging him to his feet.

“What the hell?” he protests when I rip open his shirt.

“You’re driving me insane. Fucking or fighting? You chose which, but we’re working this energy out of you some way.”

Kicking off his shoes, he pouts, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. “I just think we should have gone with her. Did you see that dress?”

“It was hideous,” I retort, slipping off my own shirt.

“And skimpy,” he complains. “I don’t know. Something just feels off today.”

“Well, let me turn youonthen,” I tease but it doesn’t hit.

“Your phone is lighting up.” He juts his chin to my desk.

“So?” I stroke down my hard cock and his eyes darken.

“It might be Alyona.”

“Get naked,” I bark as I stride to my desk and swipe up my phone. When I see Viktor’s number, I say, “Better be good.”

“I’m putting on my location, find me,” Viktor bites out, none of his usual playfulness on display. “It’s Alyona.”

Static fills my ears and every muscle in my body throbs.

“What is it?” Z asks, his sixth sense on overdrive.

I turn to him, swallowing past the fear coiling in my gut.

“It’s Alyona isn’t it?” he demands.

“We need to go.”

We enter the estate from the back, crossing the tree line on foot and racing to the beeping arrow on the screen. A white wooden cabin is tucked away between tall trees about half a mile from the main property. Z’s feet falter, and he bends at the waist, placing his hands on his knees and retches.

“Z?”

“I can't,” he pants, shaking his head. “It’s my curse.”

Sweat beads across his forehead and his chest heaves rapidly with my own manic pulse. “Z, come on, she needs us,” I urge, walking backwards.

“What if she’s dead?” He retches again, throwing up the contents of his stomach over the grass.

I refuse to accept that.

“She’s not. We’d feel it.” I will not entertain that as a possibility. Roza needs her.Wefucking need her.

Bright blue orbs pierce through me when he looks at me with such fucking hope it fractures my soul.

“We’d feel it,” he agrees and then he takes off running to the cabin.

The door is open, and we rush inside, finding a small living area and Adam slumped over on the floor. His neck is twisted at an odd angle and his pants around his ankles.

No. No. No.

My blood rushes to my head, filling my ears. Viktor stands up from beside a couch, and I sway on my feet. Alyona is lying on the cushions, a small brown blanket thrown over her torso.