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Jonas says run, Bear said.
I glanced across at the other building, saw Jonas raise what looked like a bazooka, and bolted, with every scrap of speed I could muster, for the nearest side door—one on the opposite side of the room from Winter.
The guards are through, Cat screamed. Run faster!
I couldn’t. There was nothing left in the tank now. The main doors were kicked open and men flowed into the room. There was no time for finesse now; I launched myself at the side door, twisted around, and hit it feetfirst. A scream of pain tore up my throat, but the door slammed back hard and I was through. As I hit the ground and rolled to the side, there was a huge whoomp behind me, and the office literally exploded. I threw my hands over my head, my ears ringing as heat and concrete and Rhea only knows what else punched through the air. As silence and dust began to fall around me, I crawled back to the wall and peered around the door. All I could see were shattered remnants, be they building or men.
Cat, where’s Winter?
Wait. Then. Crawling toward the other rift.
For Rhea’s sake, why wouldn’t the bastard just die? Then the rest of her sentence impacted and I became aware of the sting of energy across my skin. I slowly turned. Sitting in the middle of the long, wide room was the biggest damn rift I’d ever seen. This time there was no inky wall of darkness to hide its presence, and its gelatinous, gently spinning surface ran with ragged thrusts of foul-looking lightning. It felt dark, dangerous, and I couldn’t help wondering if this was one rift I was better off leaving alone.
But that was a question for another day.
I sucked in a breath and then, using the wall as a brace, pushed upright. My head swam and my knees buckled. I swore and concentrated on remaining upright. On remaining conscious.
“Tiger?”
Jonas’s voice. I waved a hand; I didn’t dare do anything more, lest I topple.
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Footsteps approached and then he appeared, an angel dressed in full corps battle gear. He lifted his visor. His expression was grim, his eyes hard. “You’re a mess.”
“But a mess that’s alive, thanks to you.” My voice came out scratchy. Hoarse. I swallowed heavily, but it didn’t seem to help the aching dryness in my throat. “Why are you here?”
“Because I knew you were in trouble.”
“You knew? Not Nuri?”
“Call it a shared realization. And no, I will not explain that right now.” Amusement glimmered briefly in his eyes. I wondered if he’d caught the half-formed thought, or whether he simply knew me well enough to guess. “Corps are evacuating the building, and despite the uniform I’ve borrowed, we aren’t out of the woods yet. Let’s get out of here.”
“We can’t—”
“Tiger—” Exasperation filled his voice. “We have only a small window of confusion in which to make—”
“Winter’s alive,” I cut in. “And heading for a rift.”
Something entered his eyes. Something that was as dark as the rift in the room and just as deadly. “That,” he said softly, “cannot be allowed.”
“No.” I pushed myself away from the wall. “Let’s go.”
“You are in no state—”
“Ranger, just stop arguing and do as I ask for once.”
“If all déchet had been as stubborn as you, we might have lost the war.” He shouldered his weapon, then shoved an arm around my body to support me as we headed into the broken remains of Winter’s office.
“Stubbornness is born out of emotion and having something to care about,” I replied. “Most déchet had neither of those.”
“Or you just got more than your fair share of it,” he muttered.
I smiled, then caught sight of the jet pack sitting on top of Winter’s desk. “How did you get that? I thought they were rarer than hen’s teeth.”
“They are these days, but I’ve been a mercenary for a very long time.” He skirted around a huge chunk of ceiling concrete. “There isn’t much I can’t get my hands on.”
Hurry, Cat said. Winter is near the rift. It spins.
