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She pulled open the bottom dead bolt and reached for the top lock, but it was too high and she couldn’t get anywhere near it. Cursing, she swung around, looking for something to stand on.
And saw the door near the top of the stairs open.
SCENT STIRRED AROUND HIM. SAM’S scent. Vanilla and cinnamon, such a warm and enticing mix. Like her. He opened his eyes, blinking several times before his vision swam into focus.
He was still in the office, still on the floor. His arm was numb. Sadly, that numbness didn’t extend to his back, where it felt as if every muscle was being torn apart. Even the mere act of blinking made his gut churn uneasily.
Sam wasn’t in the room. But she had been; otherwise he wouldn’t have smelled her.
Or was it merely wishful thinking?
No, he could feel her closeness, as surely as he could his heart. And she’d left him a laser. It clung like a limpet to his palm.
Where had she gone? And why?
Rose, he thought. She was hunting Rose. He had to find her—and help if he could.
He rolled onto his back, and a dozen fresh aches assaulted his body. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down the side of his face. For an instant, darkness loomed. He would have welcomed the fall back to unconsciousness except for the sudden realization that if Sam was here, she would need his help. She couldn’t cope with the likes of Rose alone.
He grabbed the edge of the desk with his good hand and, gritting his teeth, slowly, carefully, eased himself upright. B
ut his legs wouldn’t take his weight and buckled beneath him. His knees hit the floor, his back scraping against the desk as he fell sideways. A scream tore up his throat, but it came out as little more than a sharp hiss.
When the room stopped spinning, he tried again. This time he made it. He wiped the sweat from his eyes, then staggered across to the door, where he stood, trembling like a newborn just learning to walk. As much as he needed to change shape to repair his arm and stop the bleeding, he couldn’t. Not when he was in this sort of state. It was all he could do to remain conscious.
The door opened into a corridor. Two doors to choose from—the right one was closer. He didn’t have much strength left, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep going. So he headed right.
The door led into a deeper darkness, and he had the feeling of a vast emptiness. There were no sounds beyond the creak of loose roofing. He stepped out. Overhead, lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the room. He was in a factory of some kind. There were stairs directly in front of him, leading up.
He staggered across the emptiness and grabbed the banister—had to, because otherwise he would have fallen. His heart felt like it was ready to tear out of his chest, and the darkness whirled around him. He took several deep breaths and slowly, carefully, began to climb.
Footsteps whispered across the night. He stopped, listening. They were coming to the top of the stairs and heading directly toward him. It wasn’t Sam. He would have known if it were. So it was probably Rose.
He held his ground, simply because he had no other choice. He couldn’t move with any sort of speed, and Rose would hear him if he tried. It was better to remain where he was and hope for the element of surprise.
He clenched his fingers around the laser and waited. The steps drew close—a beat of violence that ricocheted across the night.
Rose appeared on the top step. She began to descend, then stopped abruptly. There was a click and light flooded across his face, momentarily blinding him.
“Well, well. Here I am expecting an intruder, and I find you instead. How did you escape the ropes?”
“Double-jointed.”
He squinted, trying to see her silhouette against the brightness of the flashlight. He dared not use the laser until he was certain of her position. Surprise would give him only one shot, so it had better be a good one.
“Why don’t you just turn around and head down the stairs? I can’t have my insurance policy running around injuring himself. Orrin wouldn’t be pleased.”
“You’re fuckin’ mad, do you know that?” Which probably wasn’t the sanest thing to say, given the situation.
“Why, thank you. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said all day. Now move.”
He pressed the safety off the laser. “And go meekly to my death? I don’t think so.”
“Assistant Director, don’t be a fool. I have a gun, and I’m not opposed to shooting a hole the size of a football field in your knee. Dragging you across the floor would be a pain, though, so I’d really prefer not to.”
From the hallway behind her came a second whisper of sound. A door creaking open. Her gaze hardened. “It appears we have a visitor after all, which leaves me with little choice. I can’t have you wandering around unattended, now, can I?”
He raised the laser and aimed for the flashlight. The bright beam went out. Rose yelped and then swore. He threw himself sideways. His back hit the banister and agony exploded. Laser fire bit through the night, burning into the step he’d just vacated. Another burst of laser fire lit the darkness, its source the hallway beyond Rose.
