Page 82 of Dark Soul

Where’s Nikolai?

What did the man do with him?

She forced her eyes open, looked at a naked light bulb dancing on a chain from the ceiling.

Definitely not Kvyat’s place.

The room was small and damp and windowless, with stone walls—bare except for two small mattresses on the floor. She was lying on one of them, and Nikolai was lying on the other one.

Though the boy was unconscious, Alexia breathed a sigh of relief as she saw his little chest rise and fall.

She wanted to close her eyes again—drift back into unconsciousness. But that wouldn’t help her or Nikolai. Taking a deep breath, she got up shakily, using the wall to help her.

Her head was killing her.

Two blows in as few days.

She held up two fingers in front of her face.

She could see them clearly.

Yeah.

That probably doesn’t work when you do it yourself.

She didn’t think she had a concussion, but even if she did, now wasn’t the time to worry about it.

Get out of here first.

Swallowing a whimper, she made her way to the door. Her hand shook. She knew what she had to do—try the door handle, just in case. But she wasn’t brave enough. She wasn’t a fighter. She was a teacher from New York.

If Dark were here, he’d—

Dark wasn’t here, but she was.

Try it.

Her heart threatened to climb out of her chest.

She took a deep breath and pushed on it.

It was locked.

She bit her lip to stop herself from whimpering. She didn’t want to wake Nikolai up.

Think, Alexia.

The curly-haired man with the French accent wanted something from Kvyat. That was clear from the meeting she’d overheard between them.

The same something Dark and his friends were searching for.

Okay.

But why take her and Nikolai?

To prove a point, or to force Kvyat to do something.

It was at this point that she realized she was merely collateral.