God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2)(31)

My hand tightens around my phone as my whole body stiffens. I dial Annika’s number and place it to my ear, listening to the long, haunting rings.

No reply.

Fuck.

Yes, she usually goes to bed early for ‘beauty sleep’ or what-the-fuck-ever, but this is too early.

I throw on my hoodie, put on the first shoes I see, and storm out.

“You’re welcome!” Eli shouts behind my back, but I’m already jogging down the stairs.

I call Annika again, but it goes to voicemail.

“Hi, this is Annika. Leave a message and I’ll call you back ASAP.”

The more times I get her voicemail, the more my temperature rises.

I hop into my car and drive out of the property at high speed, then dial my cousin.

He picks up almost immediately. “Weren’t you in your Sleeping Beauty phase?”

“Where are you?”

“Currently watching a live show of a wildfire that’s eating the Heathens like holy water. May all their sins trap them in hell for eternity. Amen.”

“There’s fire?”

“Did you miss the wildfire part?” Pure sadism shines in his voice. “I’ve got to applaud the mastermind for the immaculate planning and execution—”

I press the End button and hit the gas.

A feeling I’ve never felt before spreads through me with suffocating intensity.

And it’s all because of her.

The girl who shouldn’t have been part of my plans yet somehow managed to sneak inside.

The thought of something happening to her turns me into a feral beast.





11





ANNIKA





The sound of an alarm goes off and cold liquid splashes all over my face.

I jerk up, gasping as the spray from the fire sprinklers drenches my sleep shirt in seconds.

It takes me a few more seconds to shake the disorientation out of my head and focus on my surroundings.

The smell of smoke clogs my nostrils as shadows and bright light spill in from outside.

I stumble out of bed and peek through the window, fingers clenching the sill. The view that materializes in front of me traps my breath in the back of my throat.

The brightness isn’t actually light. A huge fire is eating up the upper western half of the mansion.

The half where I am.

Where my brother is.

A deep sense of terror lodges itself into my soul and I remain frozen in place.

Being Adrian Volkov’s only daughter has put me in danger more times than I can count. There have been at least three kidnapping attempts and a few shootings. Some scum would try anything to hurt my father, and that includes targeting me, Jer, and Mom since they think we’re his weakness.

Because we have the best guards, all those attempts ended in failure and were followed by the assailants' eventual deaths.

I’ve never really been scared of outside threats, because I knew Papa, Jeremy, or their men would be there every time.

But that doesn’t apply to a fire.

Namely, the one that’s currently devouring the mansion.

My eyes widen as I continue to watch the scene unfolding in front of me. Guards run in different directions, some with hoses, others with fire extinguishers.

Judging by their exerted expressions, it seems the fire has gotten out of control.

I spot Gareth and Killian with them, but there’s no sight of Jeremy or Nikolai.

A different type of horror seeps into my bloodstream as I bolt toward the door.

My bare feet slip on the water that’s filled the floor and I step on something, but I don’t pay it any attention.

The moment I’m out the door, a heatwave slaps me across the face. The dark corridor is crowded with so much smoke that it’s impossible to see or breathe properly.

I place my hand against my nose and mouth and inhale toxic air through them.

My brother’s room is on the other side of this smoke, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to find it in this hell.

It’s as if the flames have swallowed the entire place.

“Annika, come down!”

My spine jerks at the loud voice. When I turn toward the stairs, I make out a half-naked Nikolai holding a hose.

“Where’s Jeremy?” I shout back.

“We haven’t seen him. You just get out for now. I’ll go find him.”

No, no, no…

I sprint in the direction of the smoke, ignoring Nikolai’s curses.

My eyes water from the thickness of the toxic air and I cough as I grab the wall for balance.

This won’t do.

I rip the hem of my shirt, bend over, and soak it with the water from the floor, then hold it to my nose.

The humid cold offers a small reprieve, but the smoke still clogs my throat. My eyes burn and I cough until I think I’ll throw up.

Still, I keep going, using the wall as balance. The moment I touch a door, I try to open it, but it’s locked.

I bang on it with my free hand. “Jeremy!”

My voice is so weak and muffled that I can hardly hear it myself.

So I hit the door again while having a coughing fit. “Jer!”

“Anoushka?” His low question comes from the other side, equally weak. “What the fuck are you doing here? Get out.”