There was no give in his voice—only cold. He stepped back from the bathroom doorway. Shocked, I slipped past him, turned to face him again, and rasped, 'How?'
My chest was heaving too fast. It felt as if my whole body were packed with ice. Scrabbling at the wall to keep from collapsing, I croaked, 'I'm talking to you.'
He came to stand right in front of me, those empty, winter-black eyes fixed on mine. His well-shaped mouth moved; his voice filled the room.
'The doctor examined us—l… looked for a tracker. Found one in me and t… took it out. You didn't have one.'
He tugged his T-shirt collar down. Part of his collarbone was stitched—where the tracker had been. He took my arm, guided me to the bed, and let me drop onto the mattress.
I stared up at him, stunned. He grabbed a stainless-steel tray and a handful of instruments from the bedside table and set them beside me.
'We don't have the r… right kit here to find a tracker. When a day passed and n… nothing happened, we thought there wasn't one. We were wrong.'
My eyebrows shot up. Every vein burned with fear. I couldn't seem to breathe; I couldn't feel my hands or feet—couldn't even feel my heart. I couldn't believe we'd missed something like that.
He snapped on white gloves—fast, precise, calm the whole time.
'Where could they have put it so the doctor missed it?' I whispered, stunned. 'And how did you know they'd found us?'
Separating tools on the tray with careful clicks, he narrowed his eyes. 'They've had the house under watch. I've been on them since l… last night. A minute ago I was sure—they're waiting for the r… right window to hit.'
I blinked. Wet hair clung to my shoulders; a shiver ran through me. 'It's probably encapsulated under tissue… it must be tiny. That's why it didn't irritate or inflame anything, so I never felt it.'
He moved closer, voice firm, commanding. 'Think. We don't have much time.'
I ran my hand over my collarbone and sternum. My heart battered my throat. I tried to focus, but felt nothing. Trackers usually sit behind the shoulder blade or above the hip, where you won't notice. I reached back, searching along my spine…
Ashur watched me, intent. I clenched my teeth. Where the hell was it?
He suddenly dropped to one knee between my legs. I pressed my knees together, eyes locked on his dark, drilling gaze. He slid his hand up over my neck. My heart slammed so hard it rattled my ribs. Our faces were close; his breath burned my skin. He dipped his head and tucked my hair behind my ear with care.
I went still—caught in the touch, useless for anything but watching him. Part of me wanted to sink right there and sleep.
He studied the skin behind my ear and murmured in that low, particular voice, 'Mm… here.'
His fingertip traced my neck, slowly. The gentle glide of his touch sent me floating. His hand still on my neck, he whispered, 'Shh… b… be a good girl.'
My eyes flew wide. My mouth went dry. He pressed exactly beneath my ear. His gaze locked to mine—like staring into a night sky with no stars, no light at all.
'Brace yourself.'