He's already turning toward the stairwell, but his eyes find mine, and the bond hums between us like a wire struck.
Movement from the stairwell. More of them. Five at once, organized, spreading to cover positions. These aren't standard guards. They move in coordinated pairs.
The first pair advances from the left. His shadows surge. One guard goes down hard, slammed against the wall. The other ducks and swings a blade. I catch the blade with the telekinesis, stop it mid-arc, and wrench it out of his grip. The blade flies across the hallway and embeds in the wall. Maximus finishes him.
The second pair flanks right. I sense them before I see them. Armed and moving fast. I rip the stair railing free and drive it across the corridor like a barricade. The first guard runs into it at full speed. The impact folds him over the metal. The second vaults the railing and Maximus is there, shadows wrapping his legs, pulling him down mid-jump. His shadows brush my arm as they pass. Cool. Familiar. They curve around me instead of through me because they know me, and I feel them the same as I feel his hand at my back when we walk through a room.
The fifth guard. Bigger. Harder to hold. He charges straight at us and I grab him with everything I have and he keeps coming. Three steps. Two. My arms burn. The hold strains.
Maximus's shadows hit him from both sides. Not wrapping. Slamming. Two walls of shadow that compress him between them and hold him still long enough for me to find the fault line in his stance and rip his feet out from under him.
He hits the floor. Maximus is on him before he can rise. He grabs the guard's head with both hands, plants a knee in his spine, and pulls. The guard thrashes. Maximus's arms strain, the tendons in his forearms standing rigid. He pulls harder. The head separates from the shoulders. Maximus tosses it aside and stands.
We stand in the hallway. Ten guards down. The alarm still screaming. The fluorescent lights buzzing through the red pulse.
"Ground floor clear," I say into comms.
"Take the basement," I say. "I've got the second floor."
He nods once. The shadows peel off the walls and follow him down.
Lanthar's fighters flow in behind us. They secure the ground floor, positioning at every entrance. I hear Kael's wolves clearing the outbuildings. Short snarls. Brief.
"Julian, status?"
"Southern facility. Silver rounds. They were ready for us." A pause. "We're through. Clearing rooms now."
"Marcellus?"
"Western facility is a mess. Heavy resistance. Tides are handling the exterior. My people are inside." A grunt. Something crashes through the comms. "We're fine. Keep going."
I take the stairs up.
On the ground floor behind me, Alexei stops at the processing station. I hear him through the open stairwell.
"I'm pulling the hard drives." The sound of metal being ripped from a rack. "Transaction records. Buyer lists. Distribution logs. Every intake, every batch, every name. They'll need this for what comes after."
The second floor. Doors. Locks.
The first room. Four cots, IV stands, a woman on the nearest cot who flinches when the door opens and then stares at me.
"My name is Celeste. I'm here to get you out."
She doesn't move. I don't push. I move to the next door.
The second room. Two men. One of them is on his feet before the door is fully open, fists raised, teeth bared. He's thin and shaking and his IV line is still taped to his arm and he's ready to fight me.
"Easy," I say. "We're here to get you out."
"That's what the last ones said."
"The last ones didn't rip the gate off the fence. I did. Check the window."
He moves to the window. Looks out. Sees the gate lying in the gravel yard and the Fae standing at the entrance and Kael's wolves running the perimeter. He turns back. His fists lower. The shaking doesn't stop.
"Get your friend," I say. "Follow the hallway to the stairs. There are people waiting to help."
The third room. A teenager sitting cross-legged on the cot. She looks up when I open the door. Looks at me. Looks at the open door behind me.
