Wildfire

Chapter 21

21. Photograph

"That's enough, Viktor."

My eyes flew toward the front door, a jolt of surprise pulsing through me. A small, sturdily built woman stood in the front doorway, a curtain of long, brown hair falling over her shoulder. The forbidding look on her face sent chills down my spine, but it was directed at the man in front of me. A flicker of recognition sparked at in the back of my mind — but I couldn't quite place how I knew her.

Viktor's expression became exasperated. "Madalena —"

"You would do well to remember that this is my house," she interrupted coldly.

A silent battle seemed to rage between them, then. I watched, frozen, as they stared each other down like two vultures vying for the same carcass. Then tension in the hallway was off the scale — where Viktor was big and bulky, the confidence in the woman's — Madalena's — stance made up for her height in spades.

Who are these people? I thought nervously.

After a few minutes, Viktor's eyes lowered.

"She needs to rest," Madalena said decisively. "She can attend to your 'favour' in the morning."

He frowned, but didn't argue. I flinched as he swept by me, taking the stairs three at a time, and disappeared onto the landing above, his footsteps soft despite the worn, timber floors. I had never known anyone that big and burly who could walk so quietly — except Diego, I remembered. A moment later, I heard a door slam, and there was complete silence.

It shouldn't be this quiet, I thought warily. Not with people inside.

Madalena's eyes fell on me, her lips pursing in a thin line of disapproval. "Are you hungry?"

A flicker of unease settled in the pit of my stomach. The thought of food right then was enough to make me want to throw up. How could I possibly want to eat? I had just been kidnapped by, presumably, a group of a lupi who all seemed to hate each other — and I had absolutely no idea why.

I had assumed that Diesel was a friend of Diego's from the way they interacted — but what if they weren't? What if Diesel — and the other two — had been the ones who shot him that night in the alleyway?

No, I thought. The gunman definitely hadn't been lupi.

A sinking sensation bloomed in my gut. How on earth had I managed to get myself tangled up in something so freakin' messy?

Diego — that's how.

I shook my head slowly, somehow managing to croak, "No."

I could feel the disapproval rolling off her in waves. "Very well. Come upstairs."

She moved toward me and I flinched backwards, my ankles hitting the bottom step of the staircase. My heartbeat kicked up a notch as I stared warily at her. My voice shook as I said, "I'm not going upstairs."

I had no idea where this courage was coming from — but I knew one thing: I didn't want to go back up to that room. If she was one of them — which she probably was — I had about as good a chance at reaching the door as I did of flying up through the roof, but I couldn't let myself obey her senselessly — not when I wasn't even aware of the reason why they were holding me hostage. I couldn't trust that she didn't mean me any harm.

Hell, for all I knew, I was in a completely different dimension.

Her brows rose. "You need to sleep."