Page 51 of The Assassin
He took another breath and it hurt. His veins burned, like something hot had filled them instead of blood, and he crashed forward, landing on his front with a grunt.
“Ardan? How badly are you hurt?” Gabriel shouted from somewhere to his left.
Ardan grunted again, or at least he thought he did. The ground beneath his hands was dirty and wet, and when he turned his hand to look, he saw the red liquid glinting in the cast of streetlights. His blood? Yes, he was bleeding so badly there was a pool of blood growing beneath him.
His face felt hot, his limbs weak, and he tried to think back to what George taught him, but he’d never accounted for this. Ardan was never meant to be shot. He was an expert, a ghost in a world of humans. No one was supposed to ever catch him unaware and shoot him.
“Ga—Gabe.” Ardan panted out a breath, but it was getting harder, his lungs burning hot like fire.
There was more rustling behind him, grunts and the sounds of fists hitting skin. Another shot rang out, but he could hear Gabriel panting, knew he was still alive and okay.
“Ga-Gabe,” Ardan tried again, but it was so weak in the now noisy alleyway. How many men was Gabriel fighting against? Six, at least. Someone went to grab Ardan’s shoulder, but a blur flew over Ardan, and Gabriel tackled the culprit to the ground. He tried to turn, to find the Glock secured in his holster, but his arms and legs were paralyzed. He couldn’t move.
Then more people turned up and Ardan squinted toward the end of the alley. Someone touched his shoulder and he tried to fight off the hold, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. A familiar voice brought a wave of calm over him.
“Ardan? Ardan, it’s us.” Rourke turned him over, and Ardan blinked at the scene in front of him. There were at least a dozen Killough soldiers, backing Gabriel up in the fight with the last remaining men.
Ardan opened his mouth, gurgled, and tried to say something. Nothing came out.
“He’s injured! Badly! Get the doctor, now!” Rourke yelled. “Tell the boss Ardan needs the doctor. Hurry the fuck up.”
Someone grabbed his other shoulder and he managed to turn his head, only just. Gabriel sat on the other side of him, his suit and face covered in splatters of blood, a concerned expression. “Ardan? Fuck. What did they do to you?”
Ardan wanted to tell him it burned. It hurt, but he couldn’t because the world tilted, and he gave his last breath before everything turned black.
Chapter Twelve
The doctor cleared his throat, shoving his glasses farther up his nose. He looked to be a man far too young for what Gabriel imagined a doctor would be, probably early thirties. Handsome, but not as handsome as Ardan. No one could be as good looking as him. He had ginger hair and a thick Irish accent. According to Rourke, he was brilliant and Killough had him brought over from Ireland specifically to serve the Killough Company.
“He’s recovering,” the doctor said shortly, lips pursed. “But I cannot stress how close he came to dying. He had a bad dose. That bullet wasn’t just a normal bullet. It was laced in a poisonous agent I cannot yet determine. Ardan survived it himself with a little help, but it’s a miracle to be honest. It was brutal.”
Gabriel frowned at him. “How can you not determine what poison it was?”
The doctor glanced at him. Gabriel thought his name was Rory, but he wasn’t entirely sure. He hadn’t been paying attention when he introduced himself. “Because it was synthetic. Not one I’ve come across before. It’d take me at least a couple of months of studying it to determine what it was. If you hadn’t killed all the men—”
“They deserved what they got,” Gabriel growled. Rourke grabbed his shoulder and squeezed at it.
Killough tsked from the other side of Gabriel. “You have my permission to study it and find a cure in case this happens again. This attack has made me aware of just how serious the Giordanos are in their war with the Folliero family. They attacked one of my own, Rory. I want to be ready for when they try again.”
Rory nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Gabriel turned his head and glanced back toward the bedroom of Ardan’s home. It was only a one-room apartment, as sterile as any place could be. White on white on white, with no personal possessions that Gabriel could see, nothing that pointed out this was a home. No photos, no books, only a few clothes stuffed in a walk-in closet.
“He should be waking again any time soon by my calculations. His wound is healing, and his lungs are clear of blood. All he needs now is rest, but I must crack on. Start analyzing this synthetic.”
“But he’ll be fine, right? Healthy?” Gabriel didn’t care how desperate he sounded in front of the man who’d become his boss. He’d never felt fear like what he’d felt when Ardan went down. He’d thought his heart had stopped and he’d moved on impulse to protect Ardan.Fight,fight,fight,his brain had chanted, and that’s what he’d done.
He held them off as long as he could, even if it’d been seven against one, but then Rourke and the men came after someone mentioned a fight in the alleyway down the street from them, and they’d helped. At first, they’d had Ardan in the Virtue for a few days after the doctor initially treated him, and then they’d moved him to his apartment where he could get proper rest and Gabriel could take care of him.
“He’ll be knackered for a while.” The doctor sighed. “Tired. He’ll be tired for a while, but yes, he should fully recover. However, I don’t know what this agent has done to him, so I can’t make promises. All you can do is keep an eye on him and report back to me if there’s any troubling symptoms.”
Gabriel nodded, turned, and walked back into the bedroom without another word. He sat on the bed next to Ardan’s thigh and brushed a piece of curly hair off his forehead. His eyes were screwed closed, but his breathing was even, sounding a lot better than it had the first few days.
He heard Rourke and Killough say their goodbyes to the doctor, thanking him, before Killough walked through the door. He stood near the threshold, sliding on his suit jacket. His face hardened like it had when he’d first found out it was the Giordanos. While Ardan and Gabriel had told Killough everything about them, he still wasn’t happy about this new problem they all had to deal with.
“You’ll call me when he wakes up?” Killough said in a way that sounded more like an order than a request.
Gabriel nodded and slid his hand into Ardan’s, squeezing it. “Yes, sir.”
