Students pressed close around them, crowding, the gossip rippling through their ranks as more kids spilled out of the hall and side rooms to see what the disturbance was about.
They needed to get out of here. Now.
Aidan made for the back hall, and Erin stepped on the heels of his boots in her haste to keep up.
“Jesse’s getting up,” she said in his ear. “He’s gonna try to fight you again.”
“Yeah, ‘try.’”
He thought he heard scuffling, under the driving beat of the music, but couldn’t be sure.
The hallway yawned ahead of them, dark and welcoming. Almost there. If he could just get Erin to the truck –
A shadow detached itself from the gloom and slid across their path.
“Shit.”
“Help you with something?” a deep voice asked, and the man stepped into the light, revealing the unspecified fleshy features of every TV henchman ever.
“Nah,” Aidan said, pulling Erin up tight behind him. “Just strolling through is all.”
The thug stared at him stupidly, plainly trying to figure out what to do with him.
Back in the ballroom, the din of voices was swelling, increasing in agitation.
“So yeah,” Aidan said. “Be seein’ ya.”
He attempted to go around the big hunk of meat, and caught sight of a figure standing partway down the hall. A small figure, though clearly masculine.
Greg.
He glanced quickly back at Erin. “Stay with me, and keep up.” He didn’t wait for a response, but plunged forward, pulling her along.
They didn’t get far. Mister Help-you-with-something slammed him with a shoulder, sending him into the far wall with a hard thump, and an explosion of dust and flaking wallpaper bits. The air rushed out of his lungs and his bad shoulder, the one he’d dislocated over a year ago, flushed hot with pain. He brought his good arm up and turned to face the man, shoving Erin deeper into the hall with the other.
“Go,” he told her. “Out the back.”
The thug reached to grab hold of him.
Aidan dodged, but there wasn’t room.
“Erin, go!”
She shrieked.
And then another presence was beside them, bigger than the thug, overwhelming the man as a swift shadow that latched around his throat and flattened him back against the wall.
Mercy.
The goon’s eyes bugged and he spluttered, hands reaching fruitlessly to scrabble against the hold at his windpipe. That was the beautiful thing about his brother-in-law, Aidan reflected – no matter how big and mean an adversary they faced out in the field, no one was bigger or meaner than Mercy.
“You were taking too long,” Merc said, and he wasn’t even straining to hold the man pinned like an insect specimen. “You’ve got the girl?”
“Here. Where’s–”
“I’m here,” Tango said, materializing beside them. “Aidan, out the back…” He hesitated, not wanting to say, but Aidan knew what he meant. Greg.
“Get her out of here,” he said of Erin, “I’m going after him.”
