"Wake up."

The command permeated her awareness, pulling her from the blessed darkness into the full blown chaos of consciousness. More so when the cold water hit her. Her eyes snapped open, but she wished they hadn't. They ached in protest, but she managed to crack them and glower at the same time. She was vaguely aware that she probably wasn't exactly effective at this point. Her entire face protested the twist of facial muscles from her lips to her forehead. She did notice that the gag was gone, though she was still bound. Her wrists and ankles both felt raw, but she stayed still, her eyes on Nabbas as he peered at her.

Thin fingers tilted her head this way and that and he smiled as if satisfied.

"He's very slow," Nabbas said, his voice disgusted. "I didn't expect him to take so long. I thought he was smarter, I suppose. Did you know that it's been five hours?" He sighed. "I may just have to get on with it."

"Get on," Reese pushed the words out, "with what?"

"Killing you, of course," Nabbas said, shrugging. "He's wasting my precious time, after all. It's my turn to waste yours."

"I get to ask," she said, scowling, "one question."

His eyebrows arched.

"Tomas Harriman," she snapped. "Where is he?"

"Under your nose," Nabbas said, laughing. "He's right under your goddamn nose, Detective Reese. Not that you'll have the chance to find him."

Reese worked on her knots as he moved around the room and memorized the layout. She could only see one entrance, but knew there had to be at least two. It wasn't big enough to do much more than sleep in, and the floor was bare, dusty. He hadn't given her a cot, so her back was up against wood and her cheek against the cold earth. Nabbas looked comfortable, cocky, like he'd done this before. She tried to take slow, even breaths as she loosened a knot to the point where she could slip a hand free. The release and relief of it made her clamp down on a cry, but she'd done it. Even freeing herself wasn't a guarantee of escape, but it was better than being tied up, waiting for him to kill her.

He leaned in close enough that she had to stifle a compulsion to bite his nose off.

"I've got a lovely surprise for you," he whispered. He didn't bother with her hands, but snagged her feet. The world flipped and her cheek barked solidly against the floor. It was then that she saw it—the discarded crossbow bolt. It brushed by her fingers and she tucked up the sleeve of her sari, grateful she'd gone with the long sleeve version. It took some twisting to manage it, but she made it look like resistance.

The shock of the driving rain helped curb her nausea, though it came back a moment later when Nabbas hauled her upright. His fingers closed around her neck as he smiled with the rain glancing off his cheeks. Reese was reminded of every horror and suspense film known to man. He was perfectly calm, his smile slight, and his expression—the one that said she was about to die—seemed as if it were etched into the marble lines of his hard face. She followed his glance and found herself within an inch of a grave; a wet, partially water-filled grave.

Hers.

Reese's fingers slid down the shaft of the bolt. There was a brief flare of pain as the sharp head sliced her palm. He glanced up and away for a moment, distracted by a sound in the distance. She took her moment, and used the bolt like a dagger with the weight of her body behind the thrust. With her hands free of the ropes, it was a balancing act, and the thrust turned into a slice that ripped upward, catching his exposed throat rather than his chest. Nabbas let out an angry, garbled sound, but she had the satisfaction of watching the shock spread across his features. He tried to push her back, but found himself unable to do so as he clapped a hand over the now gushing wound. Reese almost landed on top of him when he fell, her skin cold, her feet numb, but she dug around Nabbas, searching him in the moments she had before he recovered his senses.

He did so faster than she imagined and the backhand came far too soon. The world went red, sky and earth seemed to mix for a moment, and then she fell back into herself. Nabbas was spitting unintelligible curses at her, the weight of his body grinding her into the already muddy earth. Her fingers closed around the gun he'd dug out of some side pocket she hadn't had time to search. It was a small caliber and she had both hands on it as she used every last iota of strength in her body to buck upward. The first shot just barely grazed her temple and the bright flare of pain was dizzying.

She twisted the gun, her expression vicious, determined.

A shot rang out.

Nabbas looked shocked for a moment as he rocked backward. In a moment of understanding, she realized that she'd shot him straight through his left eye. The momentum carried him backward, away from her, away from Crews, away from the living. Bone-weary, Reese watched the clouds roll and then closed her eyes. What seemed like hours later, voices called out in the distance.

Familiar voices.

She let them pass until arms were around her. Careful arms. Arms she knew. Murmuring came along with the sound of a siren, and she tried to say that she was just fine, but it came out slow and probably little more than gibberish. Time was slow and moments seemed to pass in and out. When she did wake, she felt better. The headache was finally gone and when she was able to finally open her eyes, she saw Crews, passed out with his cheek against the edge of the bed.

It looked entirely uncomfortable.

"Charlie." His name came out graveled and he woke with a start. Her fingers touched his cheek and she managed a smile before she let them drop.

"Hey," he said, sounding as tired as she was.

"Hey." The word left her mouth before his lips found hers. The kiss was infinitely gentle, full of everything from sunshine to fear to relief, and she soaked him in like a balm. "How long?"

"A few days," he said quietly. "They said you're okay for the most part." He touched her bruised cheek, his smile crooked. "You have a hard head, but I told them that. No one listened to me, though." His shrug was so Charlie that she let out a laugh. "Got you some tangerines."

Her lips smoothed into another smile just as her still puffy eyes watered.

"He's dead," she murmured. "Nabbas?"

"Very dead," Crews murmured, his lips against her forehead. "Doc says I can take you back to the hotel when you're feeling up to it." She snorted softly and he pulled away, reaching for the consent forms. It took her a moment to sign them.

"I don't want a wheelchair, Crews," she said, but it came out as a sigh as she slid herself to the edge of the bed. A nurse unhooked her and pulled the IV out. Reese stubbornly got to her feet, testing her body out. Everything was sore and she might have wobbled for a moment as she got her legs back under her, but Crews didn't say a damn thing.

It took her about half an hour to get dressed and fifteen minutes more to get back to the hotel. When they were alone in the room, they stood in silence, staring at each other. Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around him, and he tucked her in close, letting his cheek fall against the top of her head. They stayed that way for an hour until the tolling bells shifted them.

Crews pulled something from his pocket and she watched the lotus blossom pendant swing free, glittering in the light. His smile was soft and his eyes were cornflower blue as he bent to clasp it around her neck.

Her fingers brushed it and then caught his lips.

"Happy birthday, Dani Reese," he whispered.