Braden hit the exit ramp for the complex so fast that his car almost went up on two wheels. He blazed through the front gate, barely giving the guards a chance to check their IDs.
They pulled into the first spot they found in the main parking lot and bolted out of the car just in time to see John walking into the building. Dreya shouted at him to wait, but he must not have heard her before the door closed behind him, because he never even turned around.
They were twenty feet from the building when it exploded.
She and Braden were thrown to the ground as the corner of the building where John’s office was disappeared in a cloud of fire, smoke, and rubble.
Ears ringing, Dreya scrambled to her feet and ran for the big glass doors. A part of her mind numbly noted that there wasn’t any glass in the doorframes any longer. Funny—she’d never even heard them break.
Braden beat her to the doors, climbing through ahead of her, then reaching back for her hand. There was so much black smoke rolling out the opening, she could barely see anything.
That’s when she realized the place was on fire. Oh, God. John was still in there, and the place was burning.
She ran down the main corridor, letting her memories of the layout of the building guide her through the acrid, throat-burning smoke. There were other people inside, scrambling for the exit. She heard Braden shouting behind her, grabbing the dazed and confused people, shoving them in the right direction.
Dreya focused all her attention on getting to John’s office, avoiding the pieces of the ceiling and walls that had fallen into the corridor, the sections of ventilation ductwork, and the hanging wires that were probably live. The sprinklers that weren’t missing dumped water everywhere, but if the amount of smoke rolling across the ceiling was any indication, the sprinklers were losing the battle with the fire. She tried not to cough, knowing that would make her suck in more smoke, but that soon became impossible as she got closer to the source of the explosion.
Behind her, Braden shouted her name, warning her not to go too far. She didn’t listen to him. She had to keep going. She had to get to John and save him. After everything he’d done for her, she had to.
Dreya wasn’t sure how he did it, but Braden caught up to her as she was making her way toward John’s office.
Braden put his hand on her shoulder. “You can’t stay in here. The smoke is too thick. We have to leave—now!”
“We can’t!” she shouted. “John’s office is right down there. We can get him out.”
Just then, a gust of wind whipped through the space, and the smoke momentarily cleared. She was stunned to see that John’s office wasn’t there anymore. It was gone.
Then the smell hit her. Through all the smoke and fire, one scent cut into her like a knife—blood. Thick, metallic, and overpowering.
It was everywhere.
Dreya’s eyes had already been watering from the stinging smoke, but now the tears started to flow.
“We’re too late,” Braden said, but she could barely hear him over the roar of the flames and the pounding of her heart. “We can’t stay here. We have to go.”
She let him lead her out of the building, tears making everything around her a blur. They’d been too late, and now John was dead. She wasn’t sure how he’d done it so fast, but somehow, Thorn had murdered him.
* * *
Dreya sat on the curb in the parking lot across from the main building, watching firefighters move in and out of the rubble that used to be John’s office. There wasn’t much smoke coming out now, but the entire area still reeked to high heaven of flames, burned wood, and melted plastic.
Braden sat beside her, his arm around her as he tried to get her to drink some water to clear her throat. If she drank one more sip, she was going to drown.
The scene had been chaos right after the explosion as the DCO security force had moved in and tried to make sure there was no one else in the building. It was still early morning, and the guards on the gate had just changed out, so no one was sure who had come into work already, who had been in the building during the blast and subsequent fire, or who might still be in there. Jaxson had stopped by a while ago and told them that they might not know for a while how many people had died.
Order was slowly being restored, but not by the person who should be here to lead them—John. Instead, Dick Coleman—with Thorn at his side, of all people—was acting like he gave a crap about all the people scattered around the area, receiving medical attention.
Dreya felt her fangs and claws extending every time she looked at the two men. They had murdered John, and they were walking around like they were the heroes. She’d never wanted to kill a person before, but right then, she wanted them dead. And she wanted to be the one to make it happen.
Two people suddenly blocked her view, and Dreya looked up to see Kendra and Lucy standing there. Their eyes were as red from crying as hers.
When she and Braden got to their feet, Lucy wrapped her arms around Dreya, pulling her in for a hug.
“You both need to leave town and disappear,” Kendra said.
Dreya frowned. “Why?”
“Because John is dead, and Dick is making his move,” Lucy said. “A dozen of Thorn’s security people are already on the complex, and more are on the way. He knows there are people at the DCO who were more loyal to John than they ever were to the organization, and he’s going to fire them. He’s also going to get rid of everyone who knew he was involved in John’s death, and in a far more permanent way. You two will be on the top of that list.”
