She pauses to let the words sink in.
"Nowthatis a threat."
And before I can retort, the line goes dead.
I punch in Roma's number, my fingers trembling with barely contained rage.
"Follow Svetlana's route from this morning," I say as soon as Roma answers. "Now. And make sure nobody else gets there first." My voice comes out like gravel, each word a struggle to maintain control.
"What happened?"
"Svetlana was ambushed. And she's been shot." I swallow hard. "The Volkovs have Amara. And Indigo..." I can't even finish the sentence, the thought of what Grisha might be doing to her making my vision blur with fury.
"Suka blyat," Roma mutters. "I'm on my way right now. Where will you be?"
"I'll meet you at the hospital."
There's a pause on the line. "The hospital? Not looking for Indigo?"
I slam my hand against the dashboard, frustration burning me up from the inside out. "I have no fucking idea where they've taken her, Roma! Lola just told me Grisha has her, but she didn't say where." I take a ragged breath. "If anyone might have any clues, it's Svetlana. She was there. She must've seen what happened."
If she's still alive, that is.
Don't think about it, I tell myself. There's no use thinking about that.
"I understand," Roma says quietly. "I'll be there as fast as I can. What about you?"
"I'll be headed to the nearest train station," I tell him, working to keep my voice steady. "If Lola's telling the truth, there are only so many places Indigo could start from."
"You're not wrong," Roma says, his voice grave. "But Tolya... time isn't on our side. They could've moved her. Taken transfers at?—"
"I know," I snap, then exhale slowly. "I know. But I have to believe I can find her."
"You will," Roma says. "Good luck."
I open up my Maps app, and scan for the nearest stations.
Lola said that Svetlana is bleeding out to death on a street in Queens. Which means thathasto be where Lola intercepted them.
It's not much of a start but it's one that I can follow.
I scroll over to Queens, and my heart falls in dejection when I see the network of trains running through the borough. Everything from the subway to the LIRR runs through there.
No, I have to believe that she can be found.Gritting my teeth, I start looking.If I were a murdering psychopath, where would I take my victim?
The LIRR would be the obvious choice. It connects at Penn Station in Manhattan. And once you get there, then Grisha is free to take Indigo anywhere along the East Coast.
I start to plot the fastest route when something catches my eye. The traffic around Harlem 125th on the Metro North Line has gone from the usual amber and red to pitch black. And there's even a notification bubble informing me of police activity there.
Unusual. And worthy of an investigation.
I tap on the notification, my heart suddenly hammering against my ribs when I read the text that opens up.
Emergency stop. Gunshots fired. Multiple casualties. A wounded man taken into custody.
My fingers move frantically across the screen, scrolling over to social media to pull up more information.
Apparently, a train departed from Harlem 125th in the morning, only to make an emergency stop in the Bronx after gunfire erupted onboard.