Rowan was about to give the next line, a comment about the husband, when a familiartouchblazed through her mind like a star, contact sparking every nerve in her body.Training took over, clamped down on reaction.She didn’t stumble or sway.
Yet Cath glanced at her nervously, eyes suspiciously wide, lips parting.If the man behind the desk had been even the slightest bit sensitive, he would have caught her unease.
Lucky for us we get a casino employee with a head made of brick and dulled with marijuana.It was a snide thought, gone in a flash, that Rowan wouldn’t have recognized before as her own.She’d grown sarcastic, it seemed.
Then again, being chased down and hunted like an animal would make even Pollyanna a cynic.
Rowan juggled the touch, trying to remember what her goddamn line.“Sandy’s a good man,” she heard herself say frostily, the words arriving out of nowhere.That’s right.I’m supposed to be her sister-in-law.“He’ll be very happy.Might even want to build a rec room onto the house.”
Justin?Hoping, praying.She would know that touch anywhere.
A flood of urgency in return, tinted red with concentration.Something was dreadfully wrong, and he was nearby.So close she restrained the urge to look over her shoulder.
Cath slanted her another nervous glance, and Rowan moved.Not physically—her body did not so much as flicker an eyelash.But she suddenly strained, stretching in two directions—toward the man with the bag full of cash, and toward the aching call tugging at her mind.
The heavyset man with the diamond earring stopped dead.She tied off the strands deftly.The man stood behind his desk, eyes half-lidded, a virtual zombie until Rowan released him or thepushfaded.“He’ll remember counting it for us,” she said hoarsely.“We’ve got to move, Cath.”Justin?Talk to me, dammit!Justin?
I’m here, angel.A flood of reassurance.He sounded like himself again, instantly recognizable, and this time she did stagger.The relief of feeling him in her head again was too intense.She grabbed the back of Cath’s chair, steadying herself.
He washere.She’d been right.
Cath bounced out of the plush cushions and to her feet in one elastic motion.“I’m shorting the cameras,” she said, the Rhode Island accent gone without a trace.“Goddammit, what is it now?”
What’s happening?She sent a wordless flood of relief, hoped she wasn’t distracting him.Talk to me.
There are four full Sig teams on the bottom floor.They’re working through the pit.Get out.Getoutof here as fast as you can.She felt his concentration, and a sudden burning.
She’d felt that before.Oh, God.Please, no.This thought she kept to herself.“Four Sig teams, down on the ground floor.Cath, Justin’s here.”
“I don’t want to hear that shit,” Cath hissed.“Keep your mind on business and get us the hell out of here!”
Two guards outside.The men were waiting to escort the big winners to their courtesy suite.Rowan would have to deal with them.Cath would have her hands full stretching her moderate telekinetic ability to keep them from electronic eyes.
Justin had closed himself off, fiercely and definitely.She caught a sense of movement—he was doing something, but what?A plan.He had some sort of plan, one he wasn’t letting her see.
Then, to add insult to injury, a wild braying split the air.Cath flinched; Rowan let out a sharp yelp of surprise and grabbed her arm.
“Come on!”she yelled over the noise.Thank you, bless you for triggering that.
He didn’t reply.He probably had his hands full.
No time for subtlety, Rowanpushedas she hit the door.The two beefy men dressed in ostentatious casino security uniforms, dropped; and Rowan’s head throbbed in earnest.She hated knocking people out.It felt… well,rude.
The old Rowan wouldn’t have done something so drastic without a good bit of guilt and dithering.She stepped over one, having to stretch; he was so tubby he’d probably look rectangular from the back.She felt a wild hideous laugh welling up inside her at the thought of this lardass protecting anyone.
Then again, if someone went after his potato salad I bet there’d be a war to end all wars.She just missed the other man’s hand with a skipping movement almost tipping her into the wall.Not very graceful, but it got the job done.
Cath was right behind her.The hall was long, lit with fluorescents, and seemingly endless.But under a flashing Exit sign was a door that probably gave onto the stairwell.We’re on the fifth floor,she told him,heading for the fire escapes.Where are you?What can we do to help?
Just get the hell out of here, angel.Hard and clipped, and there was another drumroll of pain against his nerves.They haven’t ID’d me yet, but if I hook up with you down here—oh, shit.Get out, Rowan.Get out as fast as you can andrun.Don’t wait for me.
Rowan set her jaw, her hand finding Cath’s arm.“Split up,” she yelled.“I’ll draw them off.”
“No way!”Cath yelled back over the fire alarm.It was eerie, the way no other door in this hallway opened, even under the sonic wail.Little lights in the walls flashing, and Rowan glanced nervously at the ceiling.If the sprinklers went off this could turn into a right royal mess.“We’re supposed to stay together!”
Losing patience, Rowan shoved the girl.Cath stumbled, her other arm weighed with the duffel bag of cash.
“Go!”Then, to show she was serious, Rowan’s right hand blurred for her sidearm.
