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“There!” One of them spotted her. “Don’t shoot! Black Velvet wants her unharmed.”

Haisley scrambled backward, keeping the couch between her and the guards. Her mind raced. Her choices were so damn limited. The bedroom connected to the next suite. If she could just reach the door…

A lone figure appeared in the doorway behind the guards. The blonde’s hair was tied back, and she wore black head-to-toe tactical gear. But even in the shadows, Haisley recognized her face.

Karliah.

The female operative took out the nearest guard with a brutal throat strike, then swept the legs out from under another. “Haisley! Run!”

Dr. Haynes burst back through the main door, brandishing a syringe. “Grab her! Don’t let her escape!”

Haisley sprinted for the bedroom as Karliah engaged the remaining guards. The doctor’s heels clicked against the marble as she continued her pursuit. Haisley slammed the bedroom door and turned the lock. That wouldn’t buy her much time…but that handful of seconds might be the difference between life and death.

Across the room, the connecting door to the next suite was locked. Of course it was. She fired two shots at the handle, the sound deafening in the enclosed space. The lock shattered.

Behind her, someone began ramming the bedroom door. The frame cracked.

Haisley yanked the connecting door open and ran through the darkened suite beyond. Stay here and make a stand…or try to reach the stairwell to dash out of the tower? As much as she hated it, she was no match for the squadron of trained soldiers and their assault rifles while she was barefoot, pregnant, and outgunned. She had to find somewhere to hide. Somewhere to hope for the best. Thank god she had Karliah on her side.

Hold on, little one.She pressed a hand to her belly as the other gripped the GLOCK.Hold on.

She pictured Nash fighting his way to her, refusing to let anything stop him. She had to be just as strong. Had to survive. Had to protect their baby.

She could not lose either of them.

Or her world would end for good.

* * *

Nash bolted through the dark chaos as fast as his legs would take him. When he’d strolled into the Midnight Sanctuary a few hours ago, he’d mentally assessed the length from his seat to the door—about thirty feet. He’d covered half that distance before Mila called him out, hell unleashed, and the room descended into dark chaos.

“Run!” Kane yelled in the pitch-black room. “We’ve got your six.”

Grateful as fuck, Nash sprinted, hell-bent for leather, toward the exit.

Before he reached it, another explosion rocked the building with devastating force. He stumbled, slamming his head against a pillar. His ears rang as smoke poured in, and his vision threatened to go black. Screams filled the room. Around him, the elegant ballroom devolved into anarchy—crystal chandeliers swaying ominously, guests stampeding toward the exits, guards shouting orders that were swallowed by the din.

The backup generators kicked in. Red emergency lights bathed everything in a hellish glow. Through the haze, Nash spotted Kane and Ethan flanking him, weapons in hand at their sides, but there was no time to coordinate. His entire being focused on one goal: getting to Haisley.

Before someone else did.

He lurched forward and took down the first guard with brutal efficiency, stripping the man’s weapon before launching himself at the door and out of the ballroom.

Soldiers stood in the smoky hallway, weapons drawn, as if they’d been waiting for him. As if they’d been stationed there to prevent him from escaping Mila Benedict’s evil clutches.

Freshly acquired M4 in hand, he feinted right and plastered himself against the shadowy wall, crouching to hide his abnormal height as he let the horde stampeding out of the ballroom swallow him up.

In the inky confusion, he pushed past the shouting guards, then lurched from the throng and chugged to the stairwell, shouldering his way inside, weapon drawn. The elevator would be locked down, so he charged up the stairs three at a time. Every second that ticked by with Haisley potentially in danger felt like acid disintegrating his heart.

“Nash!” Kane’s voice crackled through his earpiece, barely audible over the havoc. “Fed teams are breaching the perimeter but meeting heavy resistance. Black Velvet planned this. She’s set up reinforcements we didn’t expect. What’s your position? Ethan and I are coming?—”

“No. I’m headed up.” Nash rounded another corner. His tactical training warred with the primal fear clawing at his throat as he dropped another pair of guards silently—one with an elbow to the face, the other with a stealthy snap of his neck. Fuck if he was going to risk giving away his position or ricocheting bullets. “Get to the control room. Cut their surveillance. Communications. Everything.”

“You got it.”

The acrid smell of smoke followed him up the stairs, mixing with the metallic tang of blood oozing from his head wound and into his mouth. His legs burned, but he surged on, ignoring everything but his drive to save Haisley. Nightmare images of danger, of losing her and their baby, spurred him on.

Not again. Never again, goddamn it.