Read Online Taking Sides (ARC Operatives Book 2) by Audrey Noire - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Audrey Noire
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breath exploded out of her lungs with the force of him slamming himself down onto her. She stared at his face, his smile sprawling across it, triumph in his eyes. His lips pulled further apart, fear thrumming in her ears and deafening her. He flinched, time slowed, and she heard the door swinging open. It battered against the wall, there was a streak of color above her and then Russi was gone, his weight vanished from on top of her.
Arms wrapped around her from behind, and the world went from silent and slow to loud and bright in a blink. Nicolai was on top of Russi, his fists a blur. A spatter of blood hit her in the face and she was yanked backwards by her unseen captor. She cried out and elbowed them in the gut hard.
“Christ, Griffin, it’s me, dammit, stop fighting-“ Balfour was hanging onto her, pulling her out of the apartment. She could hear Nicolai hollering and snarling, the sound of his fists wet and thudding against flesh. Rykov brushed past them both without a look and ran into the apartment.
Daria thought her heart was going to explode, and she twisted in Balfour’s arms to stare at him. What the hell was happening?
“Stay here,” Balfour ordered her and then ran into the apartment leaving her in the hall, half-naked and dazed. She thudded back against the nearest wall and slid down it, her legs refusing to support her. Multiple sets of black boots stomped past her and through her front door. She closed her eyes slowly. Nicolai was in her apartment. How? Why? He was back in Montana, or should have been, under arrest. Her thoughts were swimming, her brain foggy, and there was a pain on the side of her head pulsing into slow awareness. She lifted her fingers to her temple, feeling warmth and wetness coating them. She pulled her hand away and stared at it. Red blood dripped down the length of her fingers.
“Oh,” she said to nobody, as Balfour and his twin emerged in the doorway of her apartment. She blinked at him and then he was a set of triplets, staring and pointing at her, asking her questions, or so she thought. “Stop talking all at once,” she ordered the three Balfours, and then slumped over sideways. The men looked over their shoulders and yelled something, but the noise was fuzzy and reverberated around in her brain painfully.
Closing her eyes seemed like a great idea, she thought, everything would be better if she just closed her eyes.
~*~
“Wake up, Mila ,” Nicolai’s voice was rough, and the familiar weight of his hand on hers brought her forward, into the present. Daria stared up at the ceiling of his apartment, the scene of his cologne and soap floating crisp on her senses. There’d been EMTs, an emergency room, doctors, an MRI, a few stitches in her scalp. Balfour and Rykov had been at her side for most of it. Then Nicolai had pushed open the curtains that surrounded her emergency room bed, her heart had folded up into itself and she cried for the first time since she’d hit the floor under Russi. That had been the night before.
“Hey,” Daria’s own throat was a little husky and sore from too much sleep and from screaming for her life when her new partner had decided to try to give her a cavity search and then beat the crap out of her. She still felt stupid for letting him get the drop on her, even if she knew that the most hardened regular agents had difficulty keeping up with an augmented. Somehow she felt she should have been able to do more damage to him, or get away, even if that was a ridiculous expectation to hold herself to.
“Rykov and Balfour are downstairs, they have new information for us both.” Nico’s blue eyes were warm as he searched her face for… something. His arms slipped around her and he pulled her to sit up, mindful of her stitches as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Do you think you are comfortable with a visit just now?”
Daria sighed. Her head was aching, but not so much that she couldn’t put up with a little visit from her
Arms wrapped around her from behind, and the world went from silent and slow to loud and bright in a blink. Nicolai was on top of Russi, his fists a blur. A spatter of blood hit her in the face and she was yanked backwards by her unseen captor. She cried out and elbowed them in the gut hard.
“Christ, Griffin, it’s me, dammit, stop fighting-“ Balfour was hanging onto her, pulling her out of the apartment. She could hear Nicolai hollering and snarling, the sound of his fists wet and thudding against flesh. Rykov brushed past them both without a look and ran into the apartment.
Daria thought her heart was going to explode, and she twisted in Balfour’s arms to stare at him. What the hell was happening?
“Stay here,” Balfour ordered her and then ran into the apartment leaving her in the hall, half-naked and dazed. She thudded back against the nearest wall and slid down it, her legs refusing to support her. Multiple sets of black boots stomped past her and through her front door. She closed her eyes slowly. Nicolai was in her apartment. How? Why? He was back in Montana, or should have been, under arrest. Her thoughts were swimming, her brain foggy, and there was a pain on the side of her head pulsing into slow awareness. She lifted her fingers to her temple, feeling warmth and wetness coating them. She pulled her hand away and stared at it. Red blood dripped down the length of her fingers.
“Oh,” she said to nobody, as Balfour and his twin emerged in the doorway of her apartment. She blinked at him and then he was a set of triplets, staring and pointing at her, asking her questions, or so she thought. “Stop talking all at once,” she ordered the three Balfours, and then slumped over sideways. The men looked over their shoulders and yelled something, but the noise was fuzzy and reverberated around in her brain painfully.
Closing her eyes seemed like a great idea, she thought, everything would be better if she just closed her eyes.
~*~
“Wake up, Mila ,” Nicolai’s voice was rough, and the familiar weight of his hand on hers brought her forward, into the present. Daria stared up at the ceiling of his apartment, the scene of his cologne and soap floating crisp on her senses. There’d been EMTs, an emergency room, doctors, an MRI, a few stitches in her scalp. Balfour and Rykov had been at her side for most of it. Then Nicolai had pushed open the curtains that surrounded her emergency room bed, her heart had folded up into itself and she cried for the first time since she’d hit the floor under Russi. That had been the night before.
“Hey,” Daria’s own throat was a little husky and sore from too much sleep and from screaming for her life when her new partner had decided to try to give her a cavity search and then beat the crap out of her. She still felt stupid for letting him get the drop on her, even if she knew that the most hardened regular agents had difficulty keeping up with an augmented. Somehow she felt she should have been able to do more damage to him, or get away, even if that was a ridiculous expectation to hold herself to.
“Rykov and Balfour are downstairs, they have new information for us both.” Nico’s blue eyes were warm as he searched her face for… something. His arms slipped around her and he pulled her to sit up, mindful of her stitches as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Do you think you are comfortable with a visit just now?”
Daria sighed. Her head was aching, but not so much that she couldn’t put up with a little visit from her
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