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“You will be there to let me out of this thing when it stops, won’t you?”

He nodded. “Yes, the minute I know it’s safe. And don’t worry—these things almost never fail.”

The way her luck had been running lately, almost was not the best of odds. Still, she had no more choice this time than she had the last time she’d faced her fears and the darkness. He shut the door, and the darkness grew tighter. The lift hummed, and then it dropped. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped like hell she didn’t have to spend more than a few minutes inside this metal coffin.

UNABLE TO SPREAD HIS WINGS or do anything to even guide his descent, Gabriel plunged down the dark tube and prayed there was something soft near the bottom. At the rate he was descending, a broken neck was a very real possibility.

Light speared through the darkness. A circle washed by red became visible, and past it, layers of mauve and blue material. He plunged beak first into the middle of the material, then flipped onto his back, wings flying outward from his body and loose feathers pluming skyward.

For several heartbeats, he simply lay there, staring up at the red-washed ceiling, too stunned to do anything. Gradually, he became aware of the musty, almost sickly scent of humanity rising from the material beneath him, and he realized the red light washing through the darkness came from the exit sign to the left of the clothes hamper.

Then he remembered Sam. He had to get her out of that elevator, in case the vapor found its way down the shaft.

After changing back to his human form, he climbed off the mound of damp and dirty laundry. As he moved, a spasm locked the muscles in his back. Pain ripped through his body, and for a minute, he couldn’t even breathe. He clenched his teeth and hoped he hadn’t done anything serious. Hoped it was just a momentary problem. Then the pain began to ebb, and he took several deep breaths. The spasm in his back eased, and it became little more than a muted ache that radiated down his left leg. He ignored it as best he could and limped forward quickly.

The door led out into a long, dark hallway. Light, little more than a splash of yellow, beckoned down at the far end. He limped on. Voices edged across the silence. One he didn’t know. The other was Kazdan’s. He limped closer to the door and stopped, listening.

“The boss isn’t going to like this.”

The speaker’s voice held a hint of Irish brogue. If he was an operative of Sethanon, he wasn’t one the Federation knew about. None of those were of Irish descent.

“Let me worry about that.” Kazdan’s voice held a hint of impatience. “How long will it take for the apartment to clear?”

“Another five minutes.”

“Good.”

Footsteps broke the silence, a tattooed beat of violence. He edged forward and peered through the small gap between the door and the jamb.

A long metal table dominated the view. On it, a wiry black man sat, flipping a dagger from end to end, catching it neatly between thumb and middle finger. Eddie Wyatt. Gabriel smiled grimly. He’d had a run-in with Eddie some years ago, when the vamp had gone on a killing spree. He’d gotten off on a technicality and had promptly sought revenge against his accuser—Gabriel. He watched the thug’s hand as he deftly caught the dagger. Five years, and only the thumb and one finger had grown back.

Still, he was lucky it was only his hand that had been chopped. It should have been his friggin’ head. But SIU had been feeling generous that day. Because Eddie had no previous history of violence, they’d let him escape with only a minor penalty. In doing so, they’d created a headache for themselves. Eddie Wyatt was the chief suspect in the recent bombings of several SIU buildings. But up until now, informed opinion said he’d fled the country.

A second man stood farther down the table, barely within his restricted line of sight. Taller, but with the same wiry build as Eddie, this man had blond hair and a somewhat scraggly ginger beard. Wolf, Gabriel thought, noting the almost feral gleam in the man’s green eyes.

Kazdan was nowhere in sight, but his heavy steps were audible. Three men, at least two of them vampires. Not good odds for an attack when he wasn’t one hundred percent fit.

He shifted slightly, trying to ease the ache in his left leg. Kazdan’s pacing stopped. Gabriel froze, wondering if the vampire had caught the sound of a pumping heart. If he was close to the door, it was a real possibility, even though Kazdan was very young in vampire terms and still had to be learning how to handle his newfound senses.

“We don’t dare wait any longer. That bitch at reception is bound to wake up soon and raise the alarm. We have to get the disks and Ryan out of here,” Kazdan said.

Eddie slipped off the table, the movement almost languid. “The boss wanted her left alone.” He flipped the dagger one final time and shoved it into a sheath attached to his right wrist. “He ain’t going to like this.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows in surprise. Sethanon wanted Sam left alone? What exactly did that mean? That she was somehow involved with Sethanon?

“You’re working for me now. You do as I say.”

Kazdan’s voice was sharp with menace. He wondered what Sam would think if she could hear him now. And why did Kazdan want her when his orders were obviously to the contrary?

“What about Stern?”

“Take him straight to the car. He and his brother were slated for termination at the end of this month, anyway.”

Brother. Only three people beyond their immediate family knew Stephan and he were brothers. Mary, Karl and Lyssa—the original Lyssa, that was. Whether the shifter taking her place knew depended on just how long she’d been by his brother’s side. But if Kazdan

knew, then it had to mean that one of those three was involved with him.

“I thought the boss changed his mind about Stern?” There was concern in Eddie’s voice.

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