Reina de la Muerte

chapter thirty one

gabriel

A loud beep broke my state of unconsciousness. At first, it would only return after a few minutes—or a few hours, I couldn't tell—but soon became more consistent, becoming a steady beat. Only when its rhythm played out that I realized what it was.

A heart monitor.

My eyes peeled open. I was instantly blinded by a bright, white light. Groaning did no good because my throat was drier than hot sand, and my mouth was too parched to make my own saliva. I gave myself a few more moments for the throbbing of my eyes to fade before trying again. Blinking wildly to adjust to the whiteness of these ceiling lights, I realized it wasn't a ceiling light at all. The curtains were open and a blazing sun glared at me through the windows.

"Thank fucking God."

I almost didn't recognize the voice from its hoarseness, not until my neck rolled and I was face-to-face with my right-hand man, Vincenzo Pierce. Large bags slept under his eyes, contrasting greatly against the paleness of his face. In his left hand was an IV pole; a plain sandwich in his right. As soon as our eyes met, relief—and what I could have only imagined to be sorrow—emanated from him.

I was alive and...in a hospital bed?

When I tried to sit up, pain forced its hands on my shoulders and forced my back into my bed. I wanted to scream from the sheering pain that shot through me but managed to keep it to a quiet grunt. I might have been vulnerable but I wouldn't allow Vincenzo to witness me in more pain than he already had.

"Don't move too much," he said. No shit, dumb-ass, is what I wanted to say, but even that felt like it'd use too much energy. "There's water on your left."

I glanced at the glass of water on the small table to my left and slowly reached for it, biting back any pained groans at the strain on my body. It took minutes longer compared to the few seconds it normally took to do such a simple task that I was used to. But I succeeded, lifting my head to take desperate slips. A relieved sigh slipped as I drank slowly, only setting the glass down once it was empty.

"Where am I?" I asked, followed by a coughing fit.

I already hated this. I wanted to be unconscious again, then maybe it would save me from this humiliation.

But Vincenzo disregarded it, replying, "We're at a bunker in Italy. They asked me to bring you underground but I thought the safe house would be better until you regained consciousness."

Regained consciousness. "What are you talking about?"

Two thick brows furrowed together as he stared at me. "You don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

I looked down at my aching body. It looked like there were no broken limbs but I didn't need to check under my gown to know something happened to my ribs—it hurt to breathe. My heart beat a tad faster and I attempted to move my hands and feet.

A soft breath of relief escaped when they moved by my command. I wasn't paralyzed, either, which was a good sign.

"Is Vanessa okay?" I muttered, letting my head fall back into the pillows. "Are her injuries any worse?"

Darkness casted over the light in the room. Vincenzo's gaze shot to the floor, muttering a few incoherent words in Italian. I pushed back the irritation from his lack of response because the spike of panic rattled me instead. Was she in worse condition than I?

"Gabriel," he said slowly as he met my eyes, "tell me what you remember."

My brows furrowed but I did my best to think back to my last moment of consciousness. Even thinking was painful, bringing a migraine that eased a groan from me before resting it back in the pillows. The room was already spinning and all I had to do was think hard enough.