Page 24 of Truth or Lie

“Yes. Come,” Nikolayev said. “We will return to a place of safety and assess the impact of this debacle from there.”

He flagged down Commissariat Polonsky, who escorted us back to the waiting limo, using his influence to smooth the way past various hastily erected checkpoints inside the building. The crowd of journalists outside was conspicuous by its absence as we left, and I wondered who’d been responsible for that.

It was approaching nine p.m. local time—fully dark outside except for Minsk’s glittering city lights.

“We’ll drive directly to the airport,” Nikolayev said, his tone clipped. “The Commissariat will see that our belongings are sent on from the hotel.”

I spared a thought for whoever ended up with the job of packing and shipping Flynn’s sex toys. Jax manhandled Alex’s limp body into the back of the limo, before he and Flynn squeezed in as well, flanking her. Nikolayev wisely decided to ride in one of the other vehicles rather than risk being in an enclosed space with Alex, on the off chance that she woke up during the trip to the airport at the edge of the city.

His gray eyes landed on me before I could enter the limo with the alphas. “You and Mr. Patel should take one of the other cars as well.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but Kam touched my wrist. “He’s right. If she’s in a chemically induced rut, our presence will only make things worse by rousing her territorial instincts.”

My jaw clenched. I hated this.Hated it.

“We’ll watch over her,” Flynn said from the plush leather seat. “Let’s just get where we’re going so she can get some proper help, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, and turned on my impractical heels—stalking toward the car parked behind the limo. Kam was right behind me, slipping into the back seat as well. I followed the mating bond inward, knowing that if anything alarming happened during the drive, I’d be able to tell.

“What a disaster,” Kam said with a heavy sigh, as the convoy headed out. His head fell back, his eyes trained on the sedan’s burgundy headliner. “If anyone was seriously hurt or killed back there, it’ll make prime paranoia fodder for the bigots.”

I closed my eyes for a moment in an attempt to center my thoughts, breathing in and out slowly. “Only if it gets out,” I said eventually. “And if we can get ahead of it with the real narrative—that someone is intent on drugging and poisoning innocent people—maybe it will work in our favor.”

Kam rolled his head from side to side to ease the muscles of his neck, his vertebrae popping audibly. “So, who do you think it was? The Beta Liberation Front? Or Sloane?”

“Or maybe both, since there’s some evidence the BLF already has connections to the UFNA branch of the Committee,” I offered listlessly. As far as we’d been able to determine, that connection was the only conceivable way the authorities in Montreal could have discovered I was an unregistered omega. No one had known except for a handful of BLF terrorists who’d escaped the cave in Romania when Kam, Jax, and I had been rescued.

“Or it could be someone else that we don’t even know about yet.” Kam thumped the back of his skull lightly against the rear headrest.

“Possibly,” I said, not in any hurry to entertain that particular prospect. “Let’s worry about Alex now, and leave the rest of it for later.”

“Agreed,” Kam said. “Leo, we need to be thinking about how far we’re willing to go to help her through this, if she doesn’t snap out of it naturally.”

I knew exactly what he was implying, but I had no desire to discuss the details in the presence of our car’s driver and the stoic security guy riding in the passenger seat. I nodded instead, acknowledging that we would have that conversation as soon as we could do so privately.

If Alex had genuinely been thrown into a rut, it would be no different than when I’d gone into heat while trapped in that Romanian terrorist cell. Jax and Kam had helped me then. Kam and I were the most logical options to help Alex now—or at least, we would be once we got someplace physically safe.

Rut for alphas wasn’t a biological imperative like heat was for omegas. Everything I’d been able to find on the subject implied that it was a holdover from earlier times—an evolutionary trait that was slowly on its way out. The idea of someone weaponizing an alpha’s mating frenzy sparked a slow-burning rage to my chest.

Knowing that Jax and Flynn would be able to feel the emotion, I tamped it down as best I could. It wasn’t that I didn’t think they’d understand why I was so upset, but they didn’t need the extra distraction right now. I only hoped Alex didn’t wake up during the trip. Alpha skulls were hard, and alphas healed fast—but it would be best for everyone involved if Flynn and Jax didn’t have to clock Alex again to keep her out cold.

The ride continued in silence, broken only by occasional exchanges in Russian over a walkie-talkie in the front seat. We arrived at the small airport to find very little activity. The convoy of vehicles pulled up to a hangar and parked outside after another exchange over the two-way radio.

The security guy craned around to look at us from the front seat. “The boss says stay here until the female alpha is safely restrained on the aircraft,” he said, in heavily Russian-accented French.

Kam nodded acknowledgement, wrapping his fingers tightly around mine when I brushed fingertips against his hand. This whole thing was getting way too reminiscent of thefirstoccasion Kam and I had been passengers on a plane belonging to Kostya Nikolayev.

“Things worked out surprisingly well the last time we did this,” Kam murmured, effortlessly interpreting my thoughts without the need for an active mate-bond.

I squeezed his hand and gave a single nod. “Guess so.”

Unfortunately, I didn’t see any obvious way that this mess could result in a happy ending for anyone involved. Poor Alex. How she’d hate this.

Time dragged. According to Kameron’s watch, it was only about twenty minutes until the radio crackled to life again, and the security guy waved us out of the vehicle. It felt like an eternity.

We cautiously boarded the plane. I was unsure what to expect, but the sight of Alex cuffed hand and foot to one of the airplane seats stopped me cold. It was exactly how Nikolayev’s troops had restrained Jax during the flight to Cuba. Jax—currently seated in the row behind Alex—must have felt my pulse of alarm. He sent comfort through the link, catching my eyes in his summer-blue gaze.

“This was a pretty damned effective means of restraint, as much as I hate to say it,” he said. “It’s only for a couple of hours, and then we’ll get her the help she needs.”

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