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Roman knelt in the dust with one hand braced over the dressing on her side and his body curled above her to protect her from the debris still raining from the ceiling.

Kirill lifted himself off Mikhail, blood running from the corner of his mouth where he’d bitten through his cheek. “And that, ladies, gentlemen, and children, is why I fucking hate tunnels.”

Mikhail crawled over Kirill without making a sound. He checked Alina’s face and bandages, then stared at the water bubbling through the grate with short, ragged gasps of air parting his lips. Panic. I knew the feeling far too well.

“She’s alive.” Roman shifted when the first icy surge washed around his knees. “Barely. Don’t move her.”

Maksim fought the collapsed steel door while Kirill aimed his light at the pile of brick sealing the other passage. Both men called through their radios and got nothing but static. The explosions had cut us off from the teams above, and the water rose faster without the pump forcing it back toward the harbor.

Apparently, being buried alive wasn’t enough. The fucking tunnel planned to drown us too.

I took Roman’s place over the dressing. Alina’s blood soaked through it, hot against my freezing fingers. “Stay awake.”

Her lashes lifted halfway. “Bossy.”

“You would say that.” We were still alike enough that she said exactly what I would have if the situation was reversed. Didn’t mean I wasn’t angry as fuck at her. “You kidnapped my daughter and got us buried beneath a shipyard. I’ve earned it.”

Mikhail’s shoulders crept toward his ears. One hand stayed fisted in Alina’s shirt while the other rested against her throat, feeling for the pulse there. Poor kid. He shouldn’t know how to check for a pulse. What had he been through?

I forced my voice into a reassuring tone. “None of this is your fault, Mikhail. I’m angry with your mom because she made some bad choices. I’m not angry with you.”

His gaze moved over my face, but he pressed closer to Alina instead of answering.

Kirill crouched beside him and wiped the blood from his mouth. “Adults are full of shit. You’re allowed to be angry about it.”

Mikhail glanced at the knife on Kirill’s hip. “Can I still kill Sokolov?”

“Get in line.” Kirill shrugged at the noise I made but didn’t look away from Mikhail. “We’re all imagining killing him. It’s just a matter of time and which method we finally choose.”

A sharp, terse nod from Mikhail said he approved. Kirill winked at me, then went back to helping Maksim clear the door.

Roman caught my wrist and shifted my hand higher. “There. Keep the pressure steady.” He checked Alina’s pupils, then pinched the skin along her jaw until she glared at him. “Talking keeps you conscious. Give Anika the truth before I ask Kirill to motivate you.”

“With pleasure.” Kirill jammed a length of broken pipe beneath a slab and put his weight into it.

I leaned closer to my sister. “What was supposed to happen at the masquerade?”

Her attention drifted toward Mikhail.

“No.” I pushed harder when fresh blood welled beneath my palm. “Stay focused on me. You can’t do anything to help Mikhail. We’re taking care of that. What did you send me there to do?”

“Dance with them.” The words scraped out between shallow breaths. “Twenty minutes. Dmitri and I needed all three men in the ballroom while we accessed the financial servers through an upper service line.”

“You sent me after three strangers to buy twenty fucking minutes?” Unbelievable.

Pain tightened her mouth. “I didn’t tell you to take all three upstairs and stay until morning.”

Heat climbed through my face even while freezing water flooded my boots. But then something else took over, anger I’d been trying so hard to keep at bay. “No, you didn’t tell me shit. You never do. That stops right fucking now.” My heart leaped into a gallop, my hands quivering over the bandage.

Alina’s fingers slipped out of Mikhail’s grip. Roman caught her wrist beneath his thumb long enough to count, then tore open another dressing with his teeth.

“When you didn’t come back, Dmitri went looking for you. I followed him through the service corridor.” Her eyes closed until Roman slapped her cheek. “We found the room.”

The photograph came back in a sickening flash. Dmitri inside the doorway and the four of us asleep beneath a camera Sokolov had planted over the bed.

“You saw me.” My fingers went numb against the bandage. “You stood outside that room and fucking left me there.”

“You were asleep between them.” Tears slid into the dust coating her temples. “Maksim had his arm around your waist, Roman was pressed against your back, and Kirill kept one hand on your ankle like you might disappear if he let go. You looked…” Her mouth trembled. “You looked happy.”