Isabelle's POV
The warehouse went pitch black. The silence after the explosion of spark from the fuse box was absolute. All I could hear was the rain hammering the tin roof and someone, probably Seraphina, trying to catch their breath in the dark.
I stayed low on the floor. My wrists stung where the zip ties had been cutting into my skin. I'd seen the layout before the lights went out. I crawled toward some shipping crates, trying to be as quiet with my movement as possible. My hand brushed against something cold and heavy. A crowbar. Perfect. Just what I need.
"Find her!" Seraphina shrieked. From the sound of her voice, you could tell she's panicking and angry at the same time. "Check the doors!"
I heard boots racing toward the main exit. I went the other way. I found a piece of rusty pipe and tossed it into a far corner. It hit the floor with a loud clank, and the guards ran toward the noise.
My lungs ached as I scrambled up the iron stairs. A flashlight beam cut through the dust right over my head. I froze. Stopped breathing. The guard kept moving. I climbed the rest of the stairs and crouched on the catwalk.
"Spread out!" Seraphina yelled again.
I leaned against the railing, gripping the crowbar. My hands were shaking. Adrien was right, this was really a suicide mission. I needed to find a way to get out of here alive.
A thought crossed my mind. It's stupid but it was the only shot I've got.
Dmitri's POV
The car was flying down the coastal road. Adrien and I later swapped seats so he could concentrate on tracing her. He was yelling about something on his laptop.
"I've got her!" he shouted.
"Warehouse 7. It's a Schuyler shell company. She's still there. Dmitri, slow the fuck down!"
"Not happening." I pressed harder on the accelerator. The road blurred past. Rain slapped the windshield.
"You are going to kill us at this rate," Adrien said, looking like he wanted to jump out of the car.
I skidded into the gravel lot and was out of the door before the car even stopped moving. Two guys were by the entrance. I didn't bother asking any questions. I hit the first one in the throat. The second guy tried to grab me. I drove my shoulder into his ribs and sent him crashing into the wall.
Adrien climbed out of the car slowly.
"You know," he said, "normal people knock."
"Call the cops," I told him.
"What?"
"If anyone but Isabelle comes out of that building, stop them."
"With what?"
I didn't answer. I was already heading for the side door. I kicked the side door in. The place smelled like burned wires and wet metal.
"Isabelle!" I shouted.
A flashlight swung toward me. He barely got a step in before we crashed into a crate. I tackled the guy, heard a satisfying crack and grabbed his light.
I swept the beam across the room, past the crates and the shadows. Then I saw her. She was way up on a catwalk, clothes ripped, face covered in grease and dirt. She held a crowbar up like she was about to strike someone.
"Dmitri!"
There was a ladder on the side. I climbed it fast, hands slipping on the metal. When I reached the top, I hauled myself up the iron ladder in three pulls. When I reached the top, she stumbled into me. I grabbed her, one hand on the back of her head, pulling her hard against my chest. She was shaking. I could feel her heart thumping against my ribs.
"I've got you," I muttered into her hair. My hands were shaking too. "You're okay. I'm here."
My voice sounded rough even to me.
She didn't say anything at first. Just grabbed the front of my jacket like she was making sure I was real.
Isabelle's POV
His scent of sandalwood and cold night air, confirmed he was real. The frozen knot in my chest finally started to give way. I pulled back just enough to look at him. His eyes were wide, looking at me with a kind of relief that looked painful. He'd actually come for me. I had pushed him away but he'd still come.
"We have to move," I said.
We got down just as the cops started swarming the place. I watched them put Seraphina in handcuffs. She was screaming about lawyers and "low-class trash".
"Do you know who I am?!"
Yeah. We all did. Didn't help her much when they slapped cuffs on her. She spotted me near the car and lost it.
"This isn't over!"
"Sure," I said.
She kept yelling while they shoved her into a cruiser. Adrien was waiting by the car, looking awkward.
"Hi," he said.
"Not now," I replied.
He nodded quickly.
"Right. Yeah. Bad timing."
Dmitri drove straight to the Valois bunker. We sat on the cold floor under a single, buzzing bulb. He pulled out a first aid kit and started cleaning the mess on my wrists. Neither of us spoke for a minute. His hands, which were usually steady, were trembling while he dabbed the antiseptic on.
"Hold still," he finally said something.
"You're shaking, not me. I'm perfectly still," I said.
"Don't start."
"I'm just saying."
"Yeah, well. You disappeared."
I didn't reply to that.
"I thought something bad had happened to you." He didn't look up. His voice was raw. "When I couldn't find you... I realized none of it matters. The name, the empire. It's all shit if you aren't here."
I reached out and tilted his chin up. "I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sent you away. I thought I was protecting you, but I was wrong."
"I found something. My mother's letters... She trusted Seraphina. They were best friends. She loved her. Turns out that was a terrible life choice. I can't do this by myself, Dmitri. I don't want to."
He leaned his face into my hand for a second, eyes closed.
"My father won't stop," he said, his face hardening again. "He'll try to spin the scandal. He'll try to force that wedding with Emmeline just to save what's left of his reputation."
"Then we make it impossible." I stretched out my pink finger. "Let's make a pinky promise. No more secrets. No more 'saving' each other by leaving. We win together, or we go down together."
He looked down at my finger like it was a strange object. As if he had never had a pink promise with anyone before.
"Um… why are you staring like that? Have you never had a pink promise before?"
"Of course, I have."
I caught a glimpse of redness on his ear. He locked his around mine.
"To the end," he said.
"To the end," I whispered.
The weight of it settled over us. The silence after that felt awkward. The tension in his face shifted. He looked at my mouth, and for once, he looked desperate.
He leaned in and I kissed him back. Teeth bumped. More like we both forgot how this worked. I laughed for half a second.
"Shut up," he muttered.
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking out loud."
He kissed me again before I could reply. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer because I couldn't get enough air.
He made a low, hungry sound against my mouth. His hands moved to my waist and he lifted me like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around his hips, holding on for dear life. He carried me back toward the metal desk, never breaking the kiss, and sat me on the edge.
One of his hands slid under my shirt, his palm hot against my skin. The other held my jaw, his thumb rubbing my cheek. There was just this heat of him and the way our breath hitched.
When we finally stopped, we were both gasping. He rested his forehead against mine. His eyes were dark, almost black in the dim light.
"No more running," I said.
"Good."
"Because I'm tired."
I leaned my head on his shoulder. We remained in that position for as long as I could remember. Neither of us moved.
The war wasn't over. Not even close. But at least now it wasn't just one of us fighting it. And that was enough for the night.
We were one solid, unbroken line.