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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Knight

I ease the access panel open, just enough to give me a gap so I can confirm where we are. The room that services the power for the underground parking of the whole gated complex comes into view. From here, I have a clear view up through the ventilation grating to the street level, where I can see emergency vehicles parked around my building.

Metal and concrete dust fills my nose, alongside the sharp bite of ozone from the electrical substations that power the complex.

Glitch shifts behind me, and I tense. In this space, one sound could give us away. One shout from her could bring whatever is happening above ground down on us. I shouldn’t have brought her with me. I should have found a way to secure her before taking the tunnels. But leaving her wasn’t an option. Not in a room with no way out, no food, no water, and no light.

While I’m no stranger to death, I try to keep my body count lower than Rook’s. Plus, I need to keep her close until I can figure out exactly what role she’s playing Victor’s game, willingly or not. And I don’t really want to go to an apartment that smells like dead bodies later.

Voices filter down, accompanied by the distinctive crackle of radios. I glance over at her, ready to move if she makes a sound, to try something to attract attention, but she stays quiet … for now, anyway.

“Thermal is showing nothing on the top floors.” The words reach me clearly. “Teams are moving to sweep the lower levels.”

Moving slowly, I guide her to a position behind the main electrical panels, so I can hear more while staying hidden in the shadows. I’m very conscious that one wrong move, or one cry for help from her, and this gets complicated fast .

“Did you see the blueprints to this place? It’s built like a fortress.” A new voice joins the first. “Who needs that level of security?”

My jaw tightens. They shouldn’t have those plans. Those specifications don’t exist in any specific records … which means someone provided them … which also means that someone knew exactly where to look.

Glitch’s breathing changes, becomes faster, shallow. She’s either panicking or she’s going to try and get their attention. My grip tightens on her arm in silent warning. Her breathing stills, but the tension thrumming through her suggests it’s temporary.

“Team Three, move to the sub-level access points.” Static distorts the radio response. “Check every maintenance tunnel.”

“The boss wants full containment. No one in or out until we can get into that apartment and make sure every level is clear.”

Footsteps echo above us, moving in different directions. I pull us back into a recessed area behind electrical panels. The space forces us close together. Not an ideal situation, but it gives me better control if she does decide to make things difficult.

When she turns her head to say something to me, I cover her mouth before any sound can escape. Her pulse jumps under my fingers, and her eyes widen, but she doesn’t struggle. Boots on concrete sound nearby. I flatten her against the wall, my body pressed against hers, with my hand firm against her mouth, just before a beam of light sweeps past our hiding spot. The footsteps pause. Metal creaks as someone tests a different access panel.

“Nothing here.” The voice carries clearly. “Moving to section four.”

Radio static crackles, followed by acknowledgement for somewhere else in the area. I keep my hand over her mouth until the sounds fade completely. The rapid flutter of her pulse reminds me of how easily she could betray our position.

“They’re searching in a standard grid pattern.” I pitch my voice low against her ear. “Don’t make a sound. I can kill you and be out of here before they react if that’s the way you want to play this. Are you going to stay quiet?”

Her eyes are wide, but she nods, and I lower my hand slowly, ready to silence her again if necessary. The space leaves no room for distance, but that works to my advantage. It makes it harder for her to bolt or cry out, when I can feel every muscle movement.

More fragments of conversation reach us. Updates on cleared sections. A discussion about my building’s access points. Then something new … something that makes my blood run cold.

“An anonymous tip came in right after the first explosion.” The voice carries frustration. “Said we need to treat the situation as hostile. That he has a girl in there, and it’s a possible hostage scenario.”

Understanding is immediate. At first I wasn’t sure if these were hired mercenaries, now I’m confident it’s the police. And they’re not here just because explosions were reported. Someone has made sure the police would find exactly what they expected to find. A woman held against her will. Handcuffed. Restrained. Every action I took played perfectly into that narrative. And if I’d stayed in the apartment, I’d be the one in cuffs right now.

A door opens above us. Another beam of light sweeps the area. I pull Glitch deeper into our hiding spot, ignoring her sharp intake of breath as the movement jars her wrist. The pain might work in my favor, might remind her of what will happen if she doesn’t cooperate with me.

“The tip suggested he’s armed and dangerous.” The next words confirm my suspicion. “Approach with extreme caution.”

Glitch’s whole body tenses against mine, and her eyes fly up, gaze moving over my face. Her lips part, her tongue coming out to sweep over them. I hold her gaze.

She understands the situation now. She can see the trap that’s been laid out. But what is she going to do with that knowledge? The next few minutes should tell me.

More footsteps pass our position. More radio chatter. More searching that will eventually find us if we stay here. But moving away from our dark corner means risk, and risk means trusting that she’s not going to take the first opportunity she can to expose our location.

“We need to move.” I keep my voice calm, controlled, and cold, no trace of my usual sarcasm. “They’re establishing a perimeter. Soon, we’ll be completely trapped down here.”

She licks her lips again, then her lips move, forming a single word. “Where?”

“Away from their search pattern. We need to find somewhere to regroup until they clear out.” I lean closer. “Don’t make me regret not killing you when you first broke in.”

The sound of boots on metal stairs ends any further discussion. I find her hand, squeezing hard enough to make my point clear. Another light sweeps past our hiding spot.

Time to see if she values survival over whatever opportunities she thinks the police presence might offer.