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“We talked about this,” Pyro Storm said patiently. “And we all agreed that the idea of you with a grenade of any kind was extremely terrifying.”
“You’d probably end up having it blow up in your face,” Jazz said. “And I happen to like that face as it is, so.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He turned the doorknob as quietly as he could. Once he heard the latch click, he pulled the door open just a sliver, peering out into the darkness on the other side of the door.
The hallway appeared empty. Closed doors, three on the left, two on the right. Lights off. No movement, no sound. He glanced at Pyro Storm and grinned. “Is it bad I almost want the thieves to be waiting for us? How awesome would it be for us to have a hallway fight scene?”
Gibby snorted. “You have a hard time fighting in wide open spaces, so I think a hallway fight would probably only see you getting your ass kicked.”
Guardian scoffed. “I don’t get myasskicked. I sometimes appear to lose so it justlookslike I have no idea what I’m doing only to then gain the upper hand.”
“Oh,” Gibby said. “Well, if that’s the case, you’re really good at it.”
“Thank y—wait, what.”
Pyro Storm cleared his throat pointedly.
“Right,” Guardian said. “We’re in the middle of doing stuff. On it.”
He pulled open the door, walking swiftly out into the hall. He kept eyes on the closed doors, Pyro Storm following him, watching his every movement. Though he knew his boyfriendwas in his corner, Guardian wanted to make him proud, to show Pyro Storm he could be counted on to have his back.
He tried the first door. Locked. Same with the second. The third. He barely turned the knob on the fourth, knowing it would also probably be locked.
He stopped at the last door on the right. It had a rectangular window, and he pressed himself against the wall near the door, craning his neck to look through the glass.
His breath caught in his chest.
Three figures were dressed head to toe in black, ski masks covering their faces. All had guns and flashlights, the beams crisscrossing as they took in the room around them. Two of the figures stood next to each other, heads close together as if in conversation, facing away from the door. Perhaps they still had the element of surprise.
And then the third figure moved to the side, revealing what they’d come for.
There, sitting in a glass case, was a large diamond, glittering atop a stand covered in red velvet. A single light shone down on the jewel, causing the light to refract in rainbow arcs. The third figure bent over, one hand on their knee, gun pointing down as they stared at the diamond.
Three jewel thieves. There were supposed to be four.
Guardian looked at Pyro Storm, who cocked his head in question. “Where’s the fourth one?”
Pyro Storm nodded, sounding relieved when he said, “Perfect. Sometimes you have to make decisions on the fly, and whatever repercussions follow are on you. You know there’s four, and you can only see three. What do you do?”
Guardian looked back through the window. All three goons now stood around the diamond. They looked like they were waiting for something. Guardian was about to tell Pyro Storm that they should just take the chance the fourth guy was somewhere else when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the shadows shift beside him. Panic reared its ugly head, squeezing his throat, making it hard to breathe.
Owen,he thought, the word rising like a dark star in his head, causing his vision to tunnel.Oh my god, it’s—
It wasn’t Owen.
He’d made a mistake.
The last door on the left was open, the one he’d barely checked. And there, standing with a gun pointed at Pyro Storm’s head, eyes narrowed behind the ski mask, was the fourth man, his mouth twisted into a terrible smile. “Well, well, well,” he said, voice rough and gravelly. “What do we have here?”
“Shit,” Guardian said.
He stumbled through the door when the man pushed him hard. He managed to stay upright as the three others surrounding the diamond turned toward them.
“Look what I found, boys,” their captor said, gun against Pyro Storm’s head as the goon forced him into the room. “Seems as if we got a couple of interlopers.”
“Interlopers?” Guardian retorted. “I don’t even know what thatmeans.”
“Not helping,” Pyro Storm muttered as the man made them stand side by side, circling them slowly, gun pointed in their direction. The others joined him, all guns raised and trained at Guardian and Pyro Storm.
