47. Ayana
CHAPTER 47
Ayana
I smelled the blood before I opened my eyes.
It reeked of metal and death, and the scent was so thick and pungent I couldn’t draw a single breath without it choking my lungs. Every inhale felt like I was snorting copper straight into my nose. The phantom taste settled on the back of my tongue, and I had to fight the urge to gag.
My gut churned. I squeezed my eyes shut, terrified of the gory scene that awaited me when the smell of blood was so strong, but I couldn’t stay in the dark forever. Not when someone had grabbed me off the street and taken me to…wherever I was.
They must’ve injected me with a sedative because a headache pounded behind my temple, and sensation was just starting to creep back into my arms and legs.
I braced myself and slowly opened my eyes. I blinked away the grogginess until the room came into gradual focus.
I was tied to a chair in the middle of a wide aisle. Rough rope bound my wrists behind the chair, and my feet were similarly shackled to the chair legs.
Dust motes swirled in the weak beams of sunlight slanting through the room. It appeared to be a warehouse of sorts. Soaring ceilings, concrete floors, grimy windows perched high on bare walls. Shipping containers were stacked around me, obscuring my view of anything not in my direct vicinity.
And lying right in front of me, less than ten feet away, was a dead body.
Correction: pieces of a dead body. A torso, an arm, and…
My stomach rebelled. Bile sloshed up my throat, and I retched with a gagging sound.
I wanted to close my eyes again and pretend it wasn’t there—pretend I was safe and warm in my bedroom, with my comforter pulled up around my chin and my favorite lavender aromatherapy candle burning on the nightstand—but I couldn’t look away.
It was the photos from the envelope come to life, only this was a different man. I couldn’t tell who it was. His face was turned the other way, which was a small blessing. I didn’t think I could handle a pair of lifeless eyes staring at me while I awaited whatever horrible fate my abductors had planned for me.
I sat frozen in terror, convinced that whoever was responsible for the man’s gruesome death would turn the corner and hack me to similar pieces. But several minutes passed, and other than the ragged gasps of my breaths, I couldn’t hear a single sound.
Get a fucking hold of yourself. Hysteria won’t help you. You need to think .
I silently counted to ten and eventually calmed my breaths enough to take stock of my surroundings.
There weren’t many places in New York that could accommodate a warehouse of this size. Certainly none in Manhattan. Of course, we could be in another state entirely.
How long had I been out? Hours? Days? Long enough to spirit me away to a neighboring state like Pennsylvania or at least out of the city.
Judging by the slant and color of the light, it was late afternoon, nearing evening.
My mind whirred. I needed to get out of here while I could, but how?
I wiggled, testing the strength of my ties. The rope wasn’t that thick, but the knots were killer. I didn’t see my bag anywhere, nor did I see any sharp objects I could use to saw through the rope.
Frustration tunneled under my skin.
Breathe. Think.
I was alive, which meant my kidnappers had plans for me. If they’d wanted to kill me, they would’ve.
Whether I would prefer death over their plans was another matter.
Sickening images of what someone could do to a person besides kill them played through my head. My stomach sloshed again, and I forced a shaky inhale through my nose.
Panicking wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I needed a clear head if I was going to get out of this. What would Vuk do?
Vuk. The thought of him twisted my heart into an agonizing knot. Our argument, if it could be called that, seemed like a lifetime ago even though it couldn’t have been more than one or two days. I didn’t know what was going to happen with our relationship, but I would give anything to see his face and hear his voice again. If I didn’t, our last words to each other would’ve been in shock and anger—on my part, at least.
Regret formed a pit in my stomach. Until now, Vuk’s world of hitmen and murder had seemed removed from real life. I’d known it existed, but even during the wedding attack and its aftermath, I’d been so numb that it hadn’t fully registered. Vuk’s men had stopped the attackers, and Jordan had survived despite being shot. The threat had been there, but it hadn’t seemed real .
Not the way this did.
I glanced at the body again. I fought back another gag. Even if I made it out of here alive, I would never forget that sight.
It gave me a little more empathy for Vuk’s actions. An eye for an eye wasn’t always the best form of justice, but at least it was a form of justice.
Tears crowded my throat. If only he were here. If only I could tell him everything running through my mind.
But he wasn’t, which meant it was up to me to get myself out of this mess. I refused to die without seeing him and telling him I…
I took another deep inhale and shook my head. Focus, Ayana. One thing at a time.
First order of business: figure out who I was dealing with. Who had the means and motive to kidnap me? Emmanuelle hated me, but she wasn’t exactly the kidnapping type. She was more likely to cut you with words and blackmail. The only other people I could think of was the Brotherhood. They’d already ruined the wedding, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were trying to use me to get to Vuk.
If that was the case, I was fucked. There was no way I could take on professional killers.
But I had to try.
I wiggled in my seat, trying to loosen my bonds. Nothing.
Sweat gathered beneath my underarms and formed a thin film across my forehead and upper lip. My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten since the eggs and smoothie I’d gulped down before meeting Vuk at Valhalla. Maybe if I had, I’d have more energy to?—
Footsteps broke the utter silence.
I froze. Acid lined my throat.
The footsteps got louder…
My heartbeats hammered in sync with their steady, ominous rhythm.
Louder…
I wriggled harder. Strategy fled as panic turned my movements frantic. Even if I got loose, I doubted I could outrun my abductor, but I was not going to sit here and wait for them to butcher me without a fight.
Louder…
Was I imagining things, or did the rope around my right ankle give a little? I put more weight on that side, trying to?—
The footsteps stopped.
They were here.
I stilled. My pulse tried to claw its way out of my veins, and I steeled myself again to face my abductor.
I dragged my eyes up, over the dead body and up a pair of black-clad legs.
Up, up, up, all the way to a familiar face.
My breath condensed into icicles.
No .