Page 32 of Lord of the Underworld

Cupping the back of her head with my palm, I search for bumps. "Where else did he touch you?"

"He slammed me back against the wall and my head bounced off it a couple times," she says.

Checking her back in the mirror's reflection, I can see twin trickles of blood from her shoulder blades.

Like her wings had been torn off.

Touching the wounds gently, I'm relieved to see the cuts aren't deep.

"I think those were from the hooks in the closet," she says, carefully clearing her throat.

Men are filling the suite and Stepan is here, at my side. "Go get, Dr. Komilova," I say. "She should still be downstairs."

"On it," he nods.

Oksana's eyes widen, and she grabs my jacket. "Anka! Anka was in here. Did he hurt her? Where is she?"

"Sir, we have her," Artemy calls in from the bedroom. "I found her, she was unconscious, on the terrace. I'm putting her on the bed now."

"Let me go see her," Oksana says, trying to wiggle off the counter.

"Artemy will look after her. The doctor is coming," I say, holding her steady, still running my hands over her arms and chest. "Open your mouth. Are your teeth chipped?"

She sighs, obediently opening her mouth for me, then closing it with a painful swallow. "Do you realize that's the most you've ever said to me? Four sentences in a row."

No, it isn't, I think. But I hope you never remember that night when we talked until dawn.

The fist gripping my heart loosens slightly. My chest swells as I take a deep breath, too. "You weren't protected."

She frowns. "They did a security sweep on the suite, Vadim. And you came just in time."

Stepan comes back with Dr. Komilova, still in her evening gown. "I've sent someone to get her medical bag from her car," he says.

"I'm always prepared," the doctor says dryly, stepping closer. "If you could move away, Mr. Turgenev, please." I step back, fighting an unreasonable urge to shove her away from Oksana. "Hello, Mrs. Turgeneva, I'm Dr. Komilova. It seems you've had a rather eventful end to your celebration."

Oksana lets out a high, slightly hysterical titter. "No, I was not expecting that. But this is life in the Bratva, so I suppose I should have."

Dr. Komilova smiles, shining a pen light in her eyes, then carefully sliding her fingers over the knot on the back of Oksana's head. "I'm going to check for symptoms of a concussion, all right?"

She runs through some quick cognitive exercises as I step into the living room with Stepan. "How did he get in?"

Stepan gestures at Lukan, the redheaded guard at the door.

He's shaking. "We did run a security sweep, sir, when we allowed in Miss Volkova. It was clear, I swear it. It was -"

"It was not clear." I cut him off. "He attacked my wife and her friend."

Artemy steps over, the guard who found Anka. "We believe he came over the terrace wall, sir. We're not sure how he navigated the -"

"That seems impossible with a missing hand and a severed dick," Stepan snarls.

"You were in charge of security for this suite," I say, pulling my gun out.

"Sir -" Lukan lets out a pained grunt as I shoot him in the leg and he drops to the floor. To his credit, he keeps his mouth shut. Looking at Artemy, I shoot him as well.

"If my wife had been severely hurt, I would have spent days taking the two of you apart. For now, you're on shit duty in Siberia until further notice."

Stepan lets out a sigh and nods. "You heard him."