AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her gorge rose again, bringing a fresh surge of bile. Sweat stung her eye; she swiped it back with a trembling hand.
She couldn't, couldn't, couldn't. Had to. Had to. Had to.
A crash from the stairwell sent Hope jetting to her feet. A thump, then another, the rapid bump-bump-bump of a body tumbling down stairs. A shout answered by a roar.
Another crash. Another bump-bump-bump. A vision flash came. Karl had turned on his captors, sending them flying into the stairwell walls and tumbling down. Hope grabbed the gun and the wire, the thread zipping back into its case as she flew down the hall.
She could say she was going to his aid, but she knew she wasn't. She was running, running as fast as she could. Running from Irving Nast to Karl, from the problem to the solution. Every pound of her feet drove a dagger of shame into her heart. But she kept running.
Hope clamored over the body of one guard, then the second. The first was unconscious. The second? She didn't pause to check.
The air throbbed with residual chaos. Every pump pushed the shame of her cowardice deeper into memory, gone but not forgotten.
As she climbed to the roof, that chaos throb was like the faintest
beat of a distant heart, that pulse coming stronger with every step, chaos reeling her in.
"Where is she?" Karl snarled.
"Put him down!" someone yelled.
"Oh, I intend to."
Hope threw open the door. Karl stood at the roof edge, one hand around Rhys's throat, holding him over the side. Two armed SWAT team members had their guns trained on Karl.
Rhys hung there, unmoving. He was fully conscious, just staying very, very still.
"Karl? I'm okay."
He turned. The Cabal team still shouted orders. But he ignored them. His gaze traveled up and down Hope, assessing, as if, should she be injured, he might not rethink his threat to drop Rhys.
The Cabal men - like good soldiers - gave her only the briefest glance, checking for weapons, then dismissing her. When they looked away she mouthed and pantomimed a message, telling Karl she'd come with Rhys, that he wasn't planning to harm her.
He turned away before she was certain he got the message.
"So your plan failed, did it?" he growled at Rhys. "Hope was smarter than you gave her credit for. Outwitted you and escaped. Don't expect me to give you another shot at her. That's not how I handle threats."
Rhys's eyes saucered, a choked "wait!" burbling up as Hope flew forward, shouting for Karl to stop. He spun... and threw Rhys at the nearest guard as he lunged at the other.
Rhys hit the first guard, bowling him down in a shower of gravel and dust. Karl knocked the second one flying. Hope ran for Rhys's gun, dropped near the door. She made sure it was loaded with darts, then shot both the Cabal men. It wasn't as easy as it sounded, but she managed... after missing once and lodging a second dart in Karl's pant cuff.
Afterward, as she held a torn scrap of Cabal SWAT uniform to Karl's newly re-split lip, she said, "Next time you plan a fake out, warn me."
"If I did, your reaction wouldn't be nearly as authentic."
Rhys returned from dragging the second guard behind the rooftop shed. "I'd appreciate a warning, too, though I'll settle for not being used as a missile."
Karl shrugged, committing to no such promise.
Karl and Rhys hauled up the men on the stairs - both unconscious and given a second shot to be sure they stayed that way. Then Hope told them about the woman and the guard on the third floor, and said, "Irving came down looking for the guard."
"And?" Rhys
prompted.
"I tranquilized him."
"And?"
