Then he drops.
I stand over him, chest heaving, blood dripping from my arm onto the concrete.
Hannah rushes toward me.
I stop her with one look.
“Don’t touch him.”
She freezes, eyes wide and glassy.
Not because she’s afraid of me.
Because she’s afraid for me.
That almost takes my knees out.
Russ slams the boiler room door shut while Lucas wedges an iron bar through the handle.
It won’t hold long.
Nothing holds long against men like this.
Gabriel is already across the room, crouched near a rusted floor grate half-hidden beneath old machinery.
“That’s the access.”
Miles looks down at it. “That’s not a tunnel. That’s a grave with stairs.”
Gabriel yanks the grate open.
Cold air breathes up from below.
Wet concrete.
Rot.
Darkness.
Hannah steps beside me, close enough that her shoulder brushes mine.
Her eyes drop to the blood on my arm.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“I’ve bled before.”
Her mouth trembles like she wants to argue, but the door behind us shakes violently.
One hit.
Then another.
Sentinel’s men are coming.
