We ran back toward the staircase. Wylder and Rowan took shelter at the edges of the doorways, shooting at the figures charging down the stairs. Wylder aimed a worried but determined look at me and jerked his chin toward the kitchen.
We’d known Gideon would probably be farther up, and also that we couldn’t take out more than one floor of Storm men before they caught on. Wylder and Rowan were going to hold off the pricks as well as they could on the bottleneck of the stairs while I made my way to Gideon around back.
I sprinted down the hall the way we’d come, fumbled with the lock on the back door, and shoved it open. My pulse pounded with the seconds ticking away. The faster I could get up there, the better.
I spotted a small dumpster heaped with garbage bags outside the shoe outlet store on the other side of the hotel, ran over, and shoved it toward the hotel with all my might. It scraped against the ground, but it moved. As soon as it was close enough, I flipped up onto it. It got me just high enough to jump up and hook my fingers around the ledge of a closed second-floor window.
The cracked stone bit into my fingertips. I scrambled upward and swung my body around, smashing the glass with my heels and diving through the frame in the same motion.
The shouts and the blaring of gunfire covered the sound of my entrance. I landed in a small room with a couple of twin beds, the covers rumpled. Empty beer bottles, cigarette butts, and fast food wrappers were strewn across the floor. The Storm’s people didn’t exactly live in style.
I stopped only long enough to smack my foot along the window frame, clearing the remaining shards of glass, since it might be my escape route too. Then I stalked to the doorway and peeked out into the hall.
I couldn’t see the staircase from here. The shots echoed from around a bend in the hall. But as I stepped out, a couple of guys burst from a nearby room. They spotted me as my gun arm swung up.
My first shot hit one in the head, but the second went wide. The other man lunged at me, snatching at his own weapon. With a lurch of my heart, I whipped out my knife and heaved myself forward to meet him. The blade sank into his chest just before he could pull the trigger.
Wylder and Rowan weren’t going to be able to hold off the men on the stairs forever. I hurried along the hall, trying each door I passed. The first three opened no problem to rooms a lot like the one I’d smashed my way into, all of them empty. The fourth doorknob jarred in my grasp—and then flew open to reveal a man with his lips pulled back in a snarl.
I wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but he startled at the sight of me—just long enough for me to pump three bullets into his chest. He teetered and collapsed on the floor. I glanced past him to confirm Gideon wasn’t in the room behind him and moved on.
Where the hell was our tech genius? They hadn’t moved him to a whole different building, had they? Fear started to wrap a chill around my gut—and then I heard it.
Someone was singing an off-key version of “Hotel California” in a thin, raspy voice that sounded an awful lot like the guy I was looking for. Despite the odds we were up against and the blood already spilled, my lips twitched with a smile.
I raced down the hall, following the singing, which grew louder with every frantic step. There. I stopped at the door it was filtering through and fumbled for the lock picks. As soon as the pins clicked over inside, I heaved the door open.
Gideon lurched to his feet. His hands were tied behind his back, his cheek purpling with a bruise, but he was there in front of me and essentially all right. “Mercy?” he croaked.
I was so relieved I could have cried, but there really wasn’t time. From the volume of the voices and thumping footsteps outside, some of the men from the stairwell were heading this way. I didn’t even have time to untie him.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing Gideon’s elbow. “Nice singing, by the way.”
As we hustled out into the hall, he sputtered a laugh. Even though I hadn’t gotten him to safety yet, his face had lit up just like I was beaming inside with the joy of having found him. “I could tell something was going down,” he said. “Figured it’d help you guys find me if you were looking, and at least annoy these jackasses if not.”
A roar of pure rage split the air and shattered my good mood. I knew in an instant it was Xavier—and he was coming for us.
I kept looking over my shoulder as we dashed for the room I’d entered through. A couple of men charged around the corner of the hall, and I shot at them. I couldn’t tell if I’d hit either, but they pulled back for shelter. The shots they fired thudded into the walls just inches from us.
I shoved Gideon into the bedroom ahead of me and yanked the door shut just as several more shots rang out behind us. Bullets smacked into the wood, one of them piercing nearly all the way through. Shit.
When we made it to the window, Gideon froze up. “It’s fine,” I said urgently. “Just aim for the dumpster—it’s full of shoe boxes. You’ll survive. I’ll be right behind you.”
Gideon braced himself and jumped. He hit the garbage bags below with a whoomph. I was just about to climb after him when Xavier’s voice broke through the shouts swelling in the hall outside.
“I’m going to skin that fucking cat!”
Oh, he thought so, did he? My pulse hammered through my veins, and I lifted my gun, sitting on the ledge and digging into my bag at the same time. If I could get in a good shot right before I jumped, if I could take out the menace who’d been terrorizing me before I’d even known he existed…
“Mercy,” Gideon called from below, sounding worried. I swallowed hard. I’d give it one shot—
But I didn’t get the chance. The door blew off its hinges, a swarm of men outside—but none of those at the front of the pack was Xavier. I caught a glimpse of his dark hair farther back, but I knew even as my finger itched on the trigger that I’d never hit him with so many people in the way.
I’d made it this far. I might have been willing to die to take that monster down with me, but Gideon wouldn’t be safe until I got him farther away.
My teeth clenching with regret, I hurled the grenade I’d taken out of my bag instead.
When it exploded in the doorway, I was already jackknifing through the window frame. I landed on my feet next to Gideon, sinking into the bags with a groan of tearing cardboard. The bang of the explosion sent a puff of smoke into the air above us.
It wouldn’t hold off whoever had survived for long. I helped Gideon clamber out of the dumpster, and we ran down the alley. I sent the quick text I’d had at the ready to Wylder—the special alert sound he’d programmed would tell him I’d gotten Gideon out.
We veered down a smaller driveway and hustled along a side-street, slowing when Gideon’s breath turned ragged. Just as we turned the corner to double back toward the van, it roared around the corner to meet us, Rowan at the wheel.
As it screeched to a halt, the back doors flew open. Wylder and Kaige waved to us from inside. They grabbed us to help us in, and we sped away from the headquarters as fast as those tires could take us.