Page 189 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

Outside, three black SUVs idled at the curb, behind a ten-passenger van.

The one in white kept a steady hand on Xander’s elbow as they ushered him into the second truck. He climbed in, still shaking, trying not to look back at the mutilated bodies in the warehouse.

He stared straight ahead.

A group of men and women stepped out of the van wearing black, hazmat-type suits, their faces hidden behind clear shields. They hauled out heavy metal crates stamped in stark white letters.

RAVEN SANITATION UNIT.

BIOHAZARD.

Xander shook harder.

He didn’t know what scared him more—the men who’d kidnapped him, the ones who’d saved him, or the people who’d come prepared to clean it all up.

Xander Vale

They were escorted into the hotel by the men Xander appreciated but never wanted to see again.

They entered through the service corridor.

The four of them were positioned between the men in black, brown and white.

Meridian led the way.

No one stopped him.

Not the hotel security near the loading dock, the fidgety kitchen manager, nor the early morning shift who damn near tripped over their own polished shoes to get out of their way.

Xander rubbed his still burning wrists. His mouth tasted as if he’d been chewing aluminum foil. And his body was coming down from the adrenaline in ugly waves, turning weak and cold. Free walked at his side with Tech on the other.

Curtis was ahead of them, full of energy, bouncing with plenty of pep in his step.

Well he did have a pretty decent nap.

Xander didn’t understand that guy and suspected he never would.

The private elevator opened for them. They stepped in. Meridian stood facing the doors. The rest of his men all filled the small space behind them, and the ride up passed in the strangest, closest silence Xander had ever experienced. The elevator slowed. The doors opened.

Cassidy was there.

Xander didn’t remember shoving the man in black out of his way.

One second, he was inside the elevator, and the next he’d slammed into Cassidy’s arms hard enough to drive the breath from both of them.

Cassidy caught him, one arm clamping around his back, the other hand going to the back of his head. His big body surrounded him, warm, solid and shaking in a way Cassidy probably thought he was hiding.

“Lane.”

Xander buried his face in his throat.

“Lane, look at me.”

“No.”

Cassidy’s hand slid over his hair, down his back, over his shoulders. Checking. Always checking. His touch moved to his arms, wrists, ribs, face. He tipped Xander’s chin up and looked at him with eyes that made the hallway tilt.

“Did they hurt you?”