A chair creaked. “Easy," a voice said, steady as a heartbeat. “You're safe."
“Where…" My throat rasped. He had a glass, slid a hand under my head, and tipped the water. “Small sips," he said.
“Where am I?" I tried again.
“Guest room," he said. “My house." His mouth tugged. “The one you used to call the museum."
“He did," Alexander said. “Which made me keep it."
“How long?" I asked.
“You slept," he said. “Then woke and tried to stand." His eyebrow lifted. “We negotiated. Then you slept again."
“How long," I said, flattening the question.
“Since the hospital? Ten hours."
“Your guards?" I asked.
“Where they should be," he said. “Where his aren't."
A streak of fear cut through my chest. “Daisy?"
“Alive," he said immediately. “Bruises, language, spirit. She is at a safe address. She
