“The others,” he rasps, his dark brown eyes alight with wild intensity.
As I nod, I’m already moving. We dash together to the nearest stairwell, Zian charging a little ahead but reining in the full speed I know he’s capable of.
We hurtle up the stairs to the next floor, where Andreas’s cell is. He scooped a guardian’s memory of tapping in the keycode right out of the prick’s head.
Whatever guardians were stationed on this floor, they’ve already charged off to deal with the emergency. I punch in the code and throw open the door.
Andreas lopes out, his usual easygoing energy keyed up enough that he bobs on his feet when he comes to a stop in front of me. His dark gray eyes catch mine with a flicker of a ruddy glow totally separate from the flashing lights.
“Better get Dominic,” he says, offering a tighter version of his usual grin.
At the same moment, a guardian strides out of a room just a few doors down. His head jerks toward us, and a shout bursts from his throat loud enough to compete with the siren.
His hand flies to his com unit, but Zee moves faster. The massive guy all but soars across the tiles and bodychecks the guardian into the wall with the full force of his beastly strength.
The man sags to the floor with a dent in his helmet that turns the side of his head concave. Blood trickles out from beneath the metal to pool on the floor.
Zian stiffens, his teeth bared, his hands quivering at his sides. I freeze up, recognizing his struggle and not having a clue what the answer is, but Andreas is already loping to join him.
The leaner guy hooks his arm around Zian’s burly one and nudges him toward the stairs. “Nice one, wolf-man. Can’t get out of here without denting a few cans.”
A halting chuckle that’s half snarl erupts from Zee’s chest, and he hurries with us to the next floor.
We had to rely on Andreas’s skill to get Dominic’s code too. It was a hell of a lot trickier than retrieving his own, since Drey has to see the person whose memories he’s rifling through, and he can’t pick and choose what he sees other than narrowing it down by other people present.
It was only a few months ago after over a year of trying that he finally caught enough small fragments to give us all the numbers.
We’re just one level below the main one now, and a heavy thump reverberates through the ceiling. The flashing lights jitter—and a matching quaver of sensation echoes through my nerves.
I pause in the hall, scanning our surroundings while Andreas does the honors with Dominic’s door. I can’t identify the feeling that just came over me, but it’s holding on, prickling into my skin. It isn’t simple apprehension.
Dom darts out, his ever-present trench coat pulled tight around his slender frame and half of his dark auburn waves falling out of his sleep-rumpled ponytail to frame his tan face. As we set off toward the stairwell once more, my fingers curl toward my palms.
“There’ll be more guardians upstairs, almost definitely,” I say, pitching my voice to carry over the piercing wail. “We’re going to have to mow through all of them.”
Zian raises his fists, all traces of his momentary uncertainty vanished. “Not a problem.”
Another odd flash tickles through my nerves. I frown. “And…”
Andreas glances back at me from where he’s leaping up the stairs just ahead. “And what?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But just be ready. I think there’s something else. Something… new.”
Four
Riva
Another burst of flames licks up from a branch I’ve torched. I drop it on the heap of twigs I hastily pawed together and dash away.
Shouts ring out from within the compound. Guardians are charging over to the fence and through the gate to investigate the several fires I’ve already set, which are crackling and pluming smoke up toward the starry sky. The wavering orange light glints off the bars of the fence.
The fires might be enough on their own, but I want to bring as many of the staff as possible out of the facility. I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to get the guys out; I don’t know what new security measures are in place.
The fewer bodies with guns standing between me and my goal, the easier it’ll be.
I pull one of the pistols from my stolen purse and aim it at the treetops. I haven’t gotten to practice my gunmanship in years, so the kick when I pull the trigger propels me backward with a jolt of surprise.
My aim is still true. The bullet smacks into a thin branch and cracks it at its base. It plummets to the ground, the crash of its landing punctuating the boom of the shot that split the air.