Zubair paced the length of the living room, boots striking soft against the rug, shoulders tight enough to ache.
The fire had burned low, little more than coals whispering orange. The others slept. He could not.
Alexei was no where to be seen… and he had disappeared hours ago without a single word to anyone.
The couch and the oversized chair that he liked to claim for his bed were completely empty.
The blanket that he normally used was still folded over the side of the arm, the pillow had been untouched… it was driving Zubair crazy not knowing where he was. Was he hurt? Was he dead?
Seeing as he hadn't been seen for eight hours, death was becoming more and more of the only acceptable excuse as to why he hadn't come back after almost nine hours.
The sound of weight overhead made him stop cold. Floorboards creaked. A door moved.
