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“He did. But I think it’s better for us all if we just get rid of the bastard.”
Sethanon wanted him alive? That could only bode ill. He listened to the receding sound of their footsteps, but he didn’t move until silence had returned. He pushed open the door and limped in. The kitchen was long and full of gleaming metal benches and appliances. It was also empty, for which he was grateful. He walked through a doorway to his left and down another corridor. The service lift door came into view. The doors hadn’t even fully opened before Sam scrambled out. She fell into his arms, her whole body shaking, alternately coughing and sucking in huge gulps of air.
Even though she still wore his jacket, her skin felt like ice. This wasn’t an effect of the fog; this was fear. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her close. And then tried to ignore the press of her body against his, and just how oddly right it felt. After several minutes, the trembling in her limbs began to ease, but her heart still raced.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were claustrophobic?” he asked softly.
She took a shuddering breath. “What good would it have done? You know there was no other way out.”
If he’d known she was so terrified of small, dark places, he might have tried to find another way. “How long have you had this fear?”
“For as long as I can remember.”
“Have you talked to the psych guys about it?”
“Yeah. They put it down to a childhood trauma.” She shrugged, feigning a casualness that was almost instantly belied by the tremor that ran through her slender form.
“You okay now?” He hoped so, because Kazdan had probably entered the apartment, and it wouldn’t take him long to discover his trap had failed.
She sniffed, then nodded. The top of her head brushed across his chin, and silky strands of red gold tickled his nose. He smoothed her hair down, feeling the dampness near the crown and sides.
“Then we’d better get moving,” he said—though if Kazdan had not been a threat, he could easily have stayed here, simply holding her. It felt good. She felt good.
She pulled away slightly. “There’s a problem?”
His gaze focused on her lips, watching them move as she spoke. “Kazdan.”
She tensed. “Jack’s here?”
“Yes,” he said, a little more sharply than he’d intended. “He wants the disks.”
And you. He frowned suddenly. The tone Kazdan had used when speaking about her was not the tone of a friend. Enemy, yes; friend, definitely not. So why was he so keen to get her back?
She met his gaze. The ring of shadows around the blue of her eyes was more pronounced than it had been a few hours ago. “Why can’t we just confront him now?”
“Because he has company. I can’t fight three nonhumans alone.” Though with her help, he certainly had a better chance. She’d apparently gotten the better of the two vamps at Kazdan’s house, and she still had the laser. But there was a niggling concern in the back of his mind about her relationship with Kazdan. “We’re better off getting those disks out of here.”
She nodded. “We still have the meet tomorrow night anyway.”
He let her go and stepped back. “I doubt that Kazdan will show up.”
She shrugged and turned away. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
He led the way forward. When they reached the foyer, he crossed to the reception desk. Both the doorman and the receptionist lay unconscious on the floor behind the desk. He felt their necks, relieved to discover both had steady pulses. Given Kazdan’s reputation, that was something of a miracle—though perhaps it was simply a matter of not wanting to shit in his own backyard.
“They okay?” she asked, though her gaze was on the elevators rather than the victims.
“Yeah.” He rose, and got out his cell phone. “Why don’t you head outside? I’ll call in the troops.” Kazdan and his cronies would be long gone by the time the SIU got here, but the apartment itself might yield something useful.
He made the call, and then followed her out the door. But halfway down the steps, he stopped. One of the men with Kazdan was a bomber. The car sat right in front of the building, State plates conspicuous. And Kazdan had ordered his men to take him down to the car. He’d said Gabriel had been slated for termination anyway. At the time, he thought they’d meant Kazdan’s car, but it could easily have been his own.
“Sam, wait.”
She turned, one eyebrow raised in query. He got his car key-coder out and pressed a button. The car purred to life.
“You don’t think they’d go to that extreme, do you?” Though her voice held a hint of doubt, she stepped back to the partial cover of the foyer entrance.
He smiled grimly. He’d underestimated Kazdan once already tonight; he wasn’t about to make a second mistake. He pressed another button and ran a fingernail across the screen. The onboard computer responded, and the car edged forward, wheels turning away from the curb.
