Tall, heavily muscled, with short-cut hair, the man radiated danger. Jakob had expected Hungary to send one of the harco—a knight.
Instead, they’d sent a security officer.
If the knights served as the law-and-order enforcement of each territory, the security officers were the spies and assassins. Jakob had turned down a position as a security officer. He’d had enough of that life, and joining the Masters’ Admiralty had given him the push to change the path of his own life. He’d been tired of being the bad guy. He’d wanted to be the good guy for once.
Vadisk Kushnir was born to be a security officer.
Jakob was a large man, but Vadisk made him feel small. And it wasn’t merely the man’s height that made him so intimidating. Vadisk was, without a doubt, the most muscular man Jakob had ever seen in his life. Vadisk had twisted slightly as he entered the room due to his broad shoulders and tree-trunk-sized biceps. If he was green, he’d be the Incredible Hulk.
“Hi, I’m Walt, the one you were speaking to on the phone, were you able to talk to—”
“No,” Jakob said, interrupting Walt.
“No?” Walt looked at Vadisk, his shoulders tightening. “As in, no he’s not here with the hotel’s security footage?”
Vadisk eyed Walt.
Jakob eyed Vadisk.
Walt turned and mockingly thumped his head against the wall. “This is going to take forever if both of you are going to do the silent and dangerous thing.”
Jakob didn’t have time to respond because another wave of pain turned his world on end. He dropped back to the bed, blind and deaf to anything but pain for a few moments. The sound of his own agonized breaths were the first sounds he heard. A moment later, he was able to tune in to the conversation.
“This needs to be administered with imaging,” Walt declared.
Vadisk scowled. “We don’t have a CT scanner.”
“Damn it. Langston and I were going to make a portable one of those next, but…” Walt sounded unsure, which was unlike him. “I can’t blindly inject him with a nerve blocker.”
“Then we will put him someplace safe. You come with me and we will find Dr. Fischer.” Vadisk’s English grammar was good, though his thick Ukrainian accent made him sound like a thug. German movies and TV liked to use Eastern European actors to portray villains.
Jakob opened his eyes, blinking back the tears.
Vadisk leaned over him, his face twisted in a grimace of sympathy. “I’ve heard bullet ant stings are some of the worst pain,” he said to Jakob in passable German.
“It’s true,” Jakob croaked.
“English, guys. English. Please.”
Vadisk, who was casually sitting on the bed beside Jakob, shrugged in apology. After the revelations about Petro and what had been going on in Hungary, the territories had all upped their inter-society surveillance. Jakob was glad now that they had because it meant he knew exactly how dangerous the man casually perched on the bed was.
Vadisk’s military record had been sealed so tight, they’d only gotten mission reports for a few of his ops. He hadn’t been a security officer for long—he’d been brought in by the new admiral of Hungary when she overhauled the entire power structure of her damaged territory.
“I brought you a nerve blocker.” Vadisk held up two capped syringes. “The doctor won’t give it to you.”
Jakob’s heart leapt at that. “Walt. Do it.”
“No, and here is why.” Walt took a breath, then paused, shook his head. “I was going to explain in detail, but I have this sinking feeling neither of you would listen. So I will use small words. This is a bad idea. This is dangerous.”
Jakob looked at Vadisk. “You do it.”
Vadisk uncapped a syringe. “Maybe in your neck?”
“Sweet baby Jesus, give that to me!” Walt lunged across Jakob and snatched the syringes.
Vadisk looked down at Jakob and winked.
There was a distinct possibility Jakob was hallucinating all of this.
“Okay, Jakob, I need you to take a deep breath. There’s a nerve bundle in your shoulder, the brachial plexus, which, given the site of the string, is the most likely set of nerves to be affected.” Walt’s voice had gone into what Jakob now knew was doctor mode. Calm, controlled, explaining what he was doing as he did it.
Walt’s finger probed his shoulder, and Jakob balled up the duvet in his fists.
“Want me to hold you down?” Vadisk asked.
Jakob’s pride wanted to say no. But his pride didn’t matter. What mattered was getting himself functional so he could find Annalise.
“Yes,” Jakob hissed from between his clenched jaw.
Vadisk held him down at wrist and chest. Walt kept up a calm dialogue as he touched Jakob’s shoulder. The pain of the needle didn’t even register. The burn of the medicine was noticeable only because it was different from the deeper pain caused by the neurotoxin.
The pain ebbed, but it had done that before. It always came back.
“Can you make a fist for me?” Walt asked. “Okay, good. Now can you flex your wrist, like this?”
When Jakob was able to do both, Walt nodded, a little of the tension Jakob hadn’t noticed fading.
“Better?” Vadisk asked.
“It comes and goes,” Jakob said. “Not sure yet.”
Walt checked his breathing, pulse, and had him move his arm, which didn’t hurt as much as it had.
Experimentally, Jakob sat up. “I think it worked. Good job, Doc. Also, you have the best bedside manner. Has anyone ever told you that? Calm. Kind. Really good.”
Walt’s eyes widened. “Okay then. Nerve blocker turns you into talky Jakob.”
“I love to talk,” Jakob said. “But everyone told me I was annoying.”
Vadisk nodded. “Seems accurate.”
Jakob barked out a loud laugh. The Incredible Hulk was funny.
Vadisk stood. “You mentioned security footage. What do we need? I will get it.”
“Footage from the hotel’s front doors. Blond man knocked into me. He must have had a pin or something with the venom on him. You know, I should have just killed him for running into me. It’s fucking inconsiderate.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Walt murmured.
“I will get the footage. You have a secure computer?”
“Of course.” Jakob stood under his own power, even stretched. The lack of pain was nearly euphoric. “Then we find the woman I love and kill whoever took her.”
“A good plan.” Vadisk disappeared out the door. Jakob was starting to warm up to the guy. He was going to help him get Annalise back.
Walt tried to push Jakob back down on the bed. “I’d like to take your vitals again. What I did was so fucking dangerous…so fucking stupid…”
“You just want an excuse to get your hands on me,” Jakob said. “And I get it. I’m hot. You’re hot. The sex will be amazing, but we have to wait for Annalise.”
“Maybe I got it in your bloodstream and it’s gone into your brain…no, you’d be dead.” Walt was looking at his watch while he held two fingers on Jakob’s wrist.
“Who do you think is after us?” Jakob mused. “I mean, it doesn’t matter, I’m going to kill them, but do you think it’s the serial killer?” Saying that sobered him up because if Annalise was in the hands of a serial killer, one who liked to cut off people’s heads…