“Reece,” he said loudly, “open that fire door and get your ass moving. We’re getting you out of the building.”
Reece swore but cooperated. As soon as he was through the door frame, Grayson stopped pulling punches. Two minutes later, the hall was littered with unconscious bodies and he was taking the steps down to catch up.
“So many stairs,” Reece groaned, as they scrambled down twenty-odd flights.
“Be glad it’s down, not up.”
They finally hit the ground floor. Reece shouldered open the door and they stepped right into a packed lobby.
Every head turned in Reece’s direction.
Chaos erupted.
“You’restill mad?” Grayson said, as several people in various states of business casual began swinging at each other.
Reece winced. “I don’t like exercise and it was a lot of stairs!”
Five office workers with coffee cups and bagels were approaching Reece and Grayson, fury in their eyes. Grayson reached into his jeans pocket. “Here.”
Reece’s eyes went wide as he caught what Grayson had just thrown at him. “These are your truck keys!”
“I’ll handle the lobby.” Grayson stepped in front of Reece, eyeing the oncoming horde. “Get the truck.Be careful.”
Reece was, mercifully, already running toward the front doors. Grayson pushed up his sleeves and dove into the fight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
...and now the whole team is asking for a giant grant for their proposed research on empath sexuality, which apparently will be titled “Empaths: The Modern-Day Incubus.”
EI is NOT funding this.
—INTERNAL MEMORANDUM AT THE EMPATH INITIATIVE
“Psst. Hey.Pretty brainy tough chick. Can you open your eyes? I think I know you.”
Aisha thought she knew that voice too. Her eyelids felt like lead, but she forced them to crack open.
She was on her side, maybe on a bed. Her glasses were digging into her face. Across from her was a big man, and she did know him. He bounced at McFeely’s, and she’d met him a few weeks back on that wild November night, after Agent Nolan had discovered empaths could be corrupted and Grayson had needed a place to stash the agent until they figured out what to do with him.
“Diesel?” she said in confusion.
“I never got your name.” Diesel’s voice was thick, like he was fighting the same drugs she was. “But you don’t forget a girl who brings you a bound and gagged FBI agent the first time you meet.”
She huffed what might have been a laugh in less dire circumstances. “Aisha.” She could see their surroundings now—looked like they were locked in one of the medical cells, like the one Cora had been in. “How are you here?”
“Group of men showed up at the club, didn’t give me a choice,” he said. “That was yesterday—or was it? They keep upping my sedatives, I’ve been out of it since we left Seattle.”
“Shit.” Aisha tried to move her head, but consciousness didn’t want to come easy. “They grabbed you. Why?”
“Because I like empaths. That’s what they said.” Diesel sounded so lost and confused. “That guy with the glasses, Nichols—he said it’s a hard quality to find in a marine.” His arms flexed. “I’ve tried to get up,” he said. “But even with the sedative, they’ve got me zip-tied to the bed.”
“It’s okay.” Aisha had to hold on to hope that Jamey was coming. Jamey would never leave them here. “It’s going to be okay; we’ll make it out—”
An alarm split the laboratory, so loud Aisha flinched.
“Emergency,”said the same flat feminine voice that was used through all of Stone Solutions’ systems.“There has been a security breach. Initiating lockdown mode.”
“Oh shit.” Aisha tried to sit up, then flopped back down to the pillow. “Jamey.”
