Fresh blood seeped rapidly from Alaric's shoulder, soaking his tattered black shirt, yet the man didn't so much as flinch. To him, the physical agony was a trifle compared to the cold dread that gripped him as he watched Anna clutch her stomach, her face draining of color until it was as white as parchment.
"Alaric... something's wrong... our baby..." Anna's voice caught in her throat.
Alaric looked down. A crimson trail had begun to snake down Anna's legs, staining the cold asphalt of Devano Tower. Hemorrhaging. The trauma of the cardiac override and the frantic escape had triggered a fatal reaction within her womb.
"Aris! Get the car here now! Level anything in your way!" Alaric roared.
The armored SUV screeched toward them, mounting the curb. Alaric shoved Anna into the back seat and dove in after her, while Syndicate sniper rounds hammered against the chassis with a deafening, metallic thrum.
