Heart of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #3)(2)

Isaac has to be down there. He must have been close to the impact or the initial explosion.

I kicked to the surface, my hand still gripping Isaac’s as I swam for my boat to climb aboard to get my mask. Moments later, I was back in the water, having left the only piece of Isaac I might find, and dove to the bottom.

I wouldn’t rest until I found the rest of him . . . and the fucking coward who left him here to die.





2





India





Present day





Terror and fear race through my body unchecked as I stare at the man who just stepped out of the elevator into the lobby of the penthouse floor and my own personal nightmare.

My husband is missing, and Donnigan, Bates, and Goliath are dead.

Belevich’s gaze sweeps over my bloodstained dress, and his eyes go wide.

“Did you kill them? Where is he?” My shrill questions come out ragged and desperate, and the Russian stares at me like I’ve lost my goddamned mind.

“Kill who?” Belevich asks. He takes a careful step toward me, like he’s afraid I’m going to snap. And I might.

“Don’t you dare come any fucking closer to me. Answer my goddamned questions.” If Belevich had anything to do with this, I’m not going to make killing me easy for him. I’ll punch, kick, and claw his goddamned eyes out.

“I was playing poker, India. At the same goddamned table as you. I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Then who the fuck did this? Where is my husband?” My voice rises to ear-piercing levels as I point down the hall.

“I don’t know anything, but—” Belevich’s head swivels to follow the direction of my shaking arm, and he finally sees Bates lying with his neck at an awkward angle, and Donnigan’s body with the bloodstained carpet beneath him. “Jesus Christ. What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t fucking know!”

Belevich crouches, checking Bates and Donnigan’s necks for pulses he won’t find. I know, because I checked them both too.

They’re dead. They’re all dead. A sob threatens to break free from my lips, but I swallow it as Belevich draws a gun from an ankle holster and jumps to his feet.

“You fucking liar!” I scream, fisting my hands as I shrink toward the corner. Belevich isn’t taking me out without a fight.

“I’m not going to kill you, Indy. I don’t know what the fuck happened here, but you need to get behind me.”

I blink at him as he waves to where he expects me to stand. What? No. I’m not going near him.

A man groans from the hallway I ran down only minutes before after frantically searching for Jericho in our room. I dart toward Belevich so I can get a better view.

Please, God, let it be Jericho. Tell me I missed him somehow.

Belevich tries to block me with his body, but I sidestep him so I can see. The sliver of hope I’m clutching disintegrates. Jericho isn’t walking toward us. It’s Goliath, and blood gushes from his chest with each stumbling step he takes down the carpeted hallway.

Belevich cocks the gun. “Is he yours, or does he die?”

“He’s with me. Don’t shoot him!” I shove past Belevich, skirt around Bates and Donnigan’s bodies, and run toward Goliath, who I thought was dead only moments ago. From the amount of blood he’s losing, he still might die soon. “Stop. Sit down. We need to get you help.”

Goliath’s knees buckle, and I drop to a crouch beside him.

“We need towels. Sheets. Something to stop the bleeding.”

“I will get them.” Belevich steps around me to stride down the hall and kick open a door to a housekeeping closet. Moments later, he drops a stack of towels onto the carpet next to me.

“Move aside,” he orders, and I stumble back on my heels as he pulls Goliath’s hand away from where blood gushes. His shoulder, not his chest. Belevich dabs at it with the towel, peering close to get a better look before using Goliath’s hand to hold it against the wound.

“Is he—” I start to ask, but Belevich interrupts.

“Keep pressure on it,” he tells Goliath. “Your lucky day that you bled enough for them to think you were dead.”

“Did you see who did this? Who took Jericho?” I ask as I clench a towel in my hands. “We have to find him.”

Belevich hands Goliath another towel to replace the one that is already soaked through with blood. “Give the man a second to stop bleeding before you question him.”

I whip my head sideways to stare daggers at Belevich. “We don’t have time. He could already be dead.”

Goliath opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a groan and a curse. “Fuck . . .”

Belevich tears the final towel into strips and winds them around Goliath’s shoulder to secure the makeshift bandage.

“Questions can wait until we get out of here. If we are discovered with the bodies, the police will hold us all for questioning for days. And you’re right—with every minute that passes, the chance of finding your husband alive disappears.”

My stomach roils, and bile climbs in my throat. “Leave . . . leave Bates and Donnigan? But—”

“Do you want to see your husband again?”

The ice water that seems to have replaced my blood freezes. “Yes, of course I want to see my husband again.”