Xavier shuts the window and turns the lock. The sound seems unnaturally loud in the sudden silence.
And then we wait.
The footsteps upstairs have stopped again, but I can hear voices now. Low, male, discussing something in tones too quiet for me to make out words. Savannah is pressed against my side, naked from the waist up and trembling slightly. Whether from cold or fear or the lingering effects of her heat, I can't tell.
"Here," I say, shrugging out of my own shirt and handing it to her. "Put this on."
She takes it gratefully, pulling it over her head. It's too big for her, hanging past her thighs, but it'll keep her warm. And covered. The last thing I need is to be distracted by the sight of her skin when I might need to fight.
"How many did you say?" I ask Xavier quietly.
"Three or four. Hard to tell with the storm." He's moved to a position where he can watch both the door and the window. "Could be more by now."
Great. Just fucking great.
There's a new sound from upstairs. A door opening, followed by heavy footsteps on what sounds like wooden stairs. They've found the basement entrance.
Savannah's hand finds mine, her fingers cold despite the heat still radiating from her skin. "Griff," she whispers.
"I've got you," I tell her, and I mean it. Whatever happens, whoever comes through that door, they'll have to go through me first.
The footsteps are getting closer. I can hear them clearly now, and I sense that there is more than three of them. How many, I’m not quite sure. They're moving with purpose now, which means they've likely figured out someone's in distress. These are probably wedding guests who think they're helping, not realizing they're making things worse.
Neither option is particularly comforting.
Xavier has positioned himself to the left of the door, back against the wall. I've moved Savannah behind the couch, where she'll have some cover if things go bad. My knife is in my hand, balanced and ready.
The footsteps stop right outside the door.
For a moment, everything is silent except for the storm raging overhead and the sound of our breathing. Savannah's heartbeat is so loud I'm surprised the whole building can't hear it.
Then someone tries the door handle.
It doesn't turn - Logan made sure the locks were solid - but I can hear them testing it, pushing against the frame. There's a low conversation, too quiet to make out, followed by what sounds like someone examining the hinges.
"They're going to try to force it," Xavier whispers.
I nod. It's what I would do in their position. The door is solid, but it's not impenetrable. Give them enough time and determination, and they'll get through.
The question is whether Logan's distraction will work before they do.
There's a sudden sound from outside - shouting, distant but clear. Multiple voices, calling to each other. Then the sound of running footsteps, moving away from the building.
The testing of our door stops.
More shouting from outside, this time closer to the building. I catch fragments: "There!" and "Moving east!" and "After him!"
Then the footsteps above us are moving again, fast this time, heading for what I assume is the exit. Doors slam. Voices fade.
We wait in tense silence for another few minutes, listening. The building seems empty now, but appearances can be deceiving.
"Think they all followed him?" Savannah asks quietly.
"Maybe," Xavier says. "But we're not taking any chances."
He's right. Even if most of them followed Logan's trail, there's no guarantee they all did. Smart money says at least one stayed behind to watch the building.
"What now?" Savannah asks.
