“The bomb is because of me,” Ian said. “This isn’t a random target – they know who I am, and they want to take me out, or frighten me, or–”
Alec touched his face. Sweet, brave Alec, always tougher than Ian expected him to be. He really never did give him enough credit, and, oh God, they were all about to be blown up…
“Ian, we have to go.”
“My people–”
“Are already evacuating. Look out there on the sidewalk.”
A glance through the window at his back proved that people were indeed filing out of the building, collecting on the sidewalk.
“They’re much too close,” he observed. “They have to get down the block. The neighboring buildings need to be evacuated as well.”
“Right,” Alec said, gripping his elbow, pulling him up to his feet. “And we can sort all of that once we’re outside. Okay?”
Ian searched his face. He saw fear, yes, lurking back behind his eyes. But mostly he saw resolve.
It strengthened his own. Ian blew out a breath and nodded. “Yes, right.” He could do this. He’d lived through far worse than the threat of explosion.
It was only that he had so much to livefor, now.
He couldn’t think of that, now. He had to bundle Ian away and let Shaman run things, now.
When he spoke next, his voice was firmly in-hand once more. “Candace, go on ahead. We’ll be behind you.”
She hurried out.
“Sir,” Bruce said, even more serious.
“Yes, yes, Bruce, I’m coming.” Ian pulled the tiny key from his pocket and used it to unlock one of his desk drawers. Withdrew the two guns and extra magazines he held there. One he slipped into his own tailored waistband, and the other he passed to Alec.
“You keep these in your desk?”
“Of course. Do you remember our lessons?”
“Yeah.” Alec chose to keep hold of his, rather than stow it. He took a breath that revealed a wider flash of nerves. “You don’t think it’s just a bomb, do you?”
“Darling.” Ian cupped his cheek, briefly. “It never is.”
~*~
Leah hadn’t come to work this morning expecting to lead a huddle of terrified accountants, and one very terrified receptionist, down an emergency-lit hallway in her wedge heels, but here she was. Her heart hammered in her chest, pounding in time with the still-chiming alarm, but being de facto leader helped her keep her head in the game. Kept her from giving in to panic.
The hall that led to the stairwell was narrow, windowless, and more than a little creepy with the lights at half brightness. An alarm box set high along the wall emitted bursts of red warning light at intervals. Closed doors down the length of it were labeled with other departments, and they opened up, she knew, into other communal office spaces.
One ahead of them burst open – they all jumped, even Leah, who clutched at her heart – and a gaggle of spooked young men in suits tumbled out into the hall.
One glanced around wildly and spotted them. “The elevator isn’t working!” he shouted.
“They don’t usually in case of fire,” Leah said. “We gotta take the stairs. That way, ahead of you.”
“I heard it was a bomb!” another yelled, voice high with panic. “Is it a bomb?”
They tripped over one another, headed for the door markedStairs.
Idiots, Leah thought, savagely. They were exactly the sort who would go nuts in a crisis, and trample other people, choke up stairwells and create chaos.
One of the guys shoved past his buddies and grabbed for the door handle – but the door flew open before he could touch it, and he stumbled forward…
