The car door had barely clicked shut behind me when Max Donman appeared from nowhere. His hand shot out, fingers clamping around my throat like a vice, and slammed me back against the vehicle. My spine hit the metal with a heavy, ringing thud.
"Where is she?" he asked, face inches from mine. His breath was hot, controlled fury radiating off him in waves.
This wasn't just about his sister. Some of it was about Sherry. About every polite smile that had been hiding something uglier since we returned from the Fallen City.
"Hospital," I said, not fighting the grip. My voice came out tight around his fingers. "She's getting treated. She's fine."
"You were her partner and you walk away whole?"
"She's alive, Max. Go see her."
His grip tightened for one dangerous second, thumb pressing hard into the side of my neck where the pulse hammered. His eyes burned. Then the agents around us registered what was happening and moved closer.
