Our boots echo hollowly through the tunnel and we’re almost at the turn, almost there when the shot rings out behind us and then a roar of return fire.
Morris is on the ground, bleeding from his mouth and still firing at the one bastard lucky enough to find us but unlucky enough to get turned into bloody Swiss cheese.
“Feck! Morris is down!”
One of the Robertson brothers, Alex, is our medic and he shoves me aside, racing for Morris, whose rifle has dropped from his limp hand. By the time we reach him, he’s shuddering his last breath, eyes gone lifeless.
“Morris, shite, dinnae do this,” I groan, putting my hands over a gaping chest wound, right over his heart.
“Lucas, he’s gone, I’m sorry,” Alex says urgently, his hands still running over our friend as if he could will him back to life. “We gotta go.”
Dropping my forehead to Morris’s, I whisper my goodbye. “Take him out of here.”
“What?”
Glaring at Alex I repeat, “Get him out, away from here.”
Helpless, he looks at his brother Kyle, who grimly nods. “Go. We got this.”
Gently hefting Morris’ body over his shoulder, Alex breaks into a jog, heading for the exit.
The shouts are garbled in my headset.
“Lost transmission with the MacTavishes,” Raul shouts.
“...Armstrong… he’s…”
“...shooting my drones out of the sky… down to thr-” Dean’s transmission drops.
Kicking the door open into the wine cellar, I race through, followed by Kyle. There’s cracks spidering through the ceiling that widen ominously as another explosion rocks this part of the castle. I can hear footsteps upstairs, racing in all directions, frantic shouting.
Dubois’ people are even worse off than my team is, and they outnumber us ten to one.
Sliding into one of the servant’s halls, I face Kyle. “We split up here. Ye take the east wing. Most of the bedrooms are located there, but start with the panic room by the master bedroom. I’m going up to the third floor and checking the labs. Go!”
He’s a good man, grim and like me, a bit in shock from losing Morris so cruelly, but he’s off like a shot. The air is thick with dust and gunpowder, but any footsteps I hear are running away from my location. Checking my readout, I find the back stairs and take them three at a time.
The lab takes over half this level of the castle, and there’s six different rooms, glass-paneled and filled with gleaming equipment. Most of therooms are dark at this hour but there’s a glow from the last one on the left, maybe a monitor left on.
Or maybe it’s Cat.
It takes precious seconds to disable the lock and as I slam it open, I see her.
My Cat. Crouched on the floor next to a complicated computer setup, clutching a flash drive and staring up at me, eyes wide with shock.
“Lucas…” it comes from her like a whisper, like a prayer.
Chapter Ten
In which there is no sweeter sight than a 6”5 avenging Angel. An incredibly hot avenging angel.
Catriona…
I’m hallucinating. I must be.
Because Lucas Stewart, tall and terrifying in his black tactical suit, canna be bursting into my lab, heavily armed and looking like the God of War here to tear this castle apart.
“Lucas…” I canna think of what to say, crouched on the floor in my dirty lab coat.
