Grayson jumped over the bar, ignoring Ben’s exclaimed “Whoa!” as he chased after Reece into the kitchen. As he burst through the door himself, he could see over everyone’s heads that a second door at the back was still swinging. Grayson sprinted toward that one, dodging the kitchen staff making appetizers as he shouldered it open and found himself in a hall.
“You have got to stop underestimating me.”
That was all the warning Grayson had before three men his own size, all in black T-shirts and trousers, were on him. Rocky was in front, taking Grayson by surprise with a hard shove that set his back against the wall.
As Grayson’s chin came back up, his gaze landed on Reece in the middle of the hall, still in the bunny ears and fake empath gloves but now with his hands curled into fists.
Grayson’s gaze darted to Rocky. The man was red with anger, his teeth bared, looking ready to throw a real punch.
“Rocky,” Grayson said loudly. “Stop.”
Rocky paused, his eyes going to Grayson’s.
He’d registered his name. This was projection again, not thralling. Reece was angry and dangerous, but he hadn’t thralled the bouncers.
One of the other bouncers had seized Grayson’s shoulders, holding him to the wall. Grayson could’ve broken free, but he looked past them to Reece, locking eyes with him. “You done with your tantrum yet?”
Reece took a step forward, pointing at Grayson. “Listen, dick—”
He cut his own words off, his head snapping to the side toward the end of the hall. He watched the door for a moment. Then his head whipped back around, the fury clear on his face.
Oh boy.
“You broughtStone Solutions?”
“What?” Grayson said. “Reece, no—”
But Reece had vanished from sight.
The bouncers turned on each other with a roar, even Rocky. Then the door to the kitchen burst open, and three utensil-armed cooks came tumbling out into the hall, just as the hall door opened and a half-dozen armed men that could only be Stone Solutions’ undercover response were sprinting their way.
“Son of a bitch,” Grayson muttered, and dove into the brawl.
Chapter Twenty
You know I’m always happy to recommend new staff for your security forces, your institutions, or anything else. The job market being what it is, many of them need employment, and I doubt they’ll ask many questions.
No need to tell me where they’ll be working or exactly what roles you’re filling. I’ll just point soldiers your way and we’ll leave things at that.
—Text from Holt Traynor to Charles Stone
Darkness had fallen, turning the evergreen-covered Olympic Mountains into rocky silhouettes. On a clear night, this far from city lights, the stars would have stretched for miles in bright clusters, but clouds were gathering in the night sky, obscuring the view and hinting at more precipitation to come.
Victor Nichols wasn’t stargazing anyway. “How far now?” he demanded of the helicopter pilot. “We’re descending, but I see nothing.”
“The surface lights are hidden from air traffic,” the pilot said. “We’re not advertising this location.”
Nichols steepled his fingers. That was what he liked to hear. “But thereispower?”
“Generators and satellite communications,” the pilot confirmed. “Most of the building is underground, set into the mountainside. There’s a laboratory and holding facilities, as well as rooms for the researchers and barracks for the guards.” She gestured around them. “And of course, acres and acres of empty forest. Stone Solutions hopes this will make up for the loss of Polaris.”
Nichols watched the forest grow closer under the helicopter’s light. “I rather think it will,” he said.
Reece pulled the truck into the garage at Jason Owens’s house, his fingers too tight around the steering wheel.
He’d been in that hall outside McFeely’s when he’d felt six new people arrive, their aggression so completely different from the happy feelings of the clubgoers. It had been easy to guess who they were.
He should have expected Grayson to be trying to set a trap.
