Page 149 of Bleed with Me

“Okay, okay,” he muttered, his fingers working relentlessly. “I see you. We’re ready to go.”

“Wait.” My hand hesitated on the doorknob. “Did you just hack the NYPD?”

“I borrowed their eyes,” he replied nonchalantly, smug as ever. “Go. We have only a few minutes.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and stepped inside.

The lobby swallowed me instantly. Police officers hurried toward the elevators. Detectives crossed the marble floor carrying overflowing case files. Lawyers argued near security. Two suspects in handcuffs were escorted through the revolving doors while a woman screamed at someone behind the reception desk. Nobody looked in my direction. No one cared who I was or what I was doing there.

“Straight to the elevators,” Lucas instructed, his voice barely recognizable through the thundering of my heart in my ears. “Walk casually. Don’t draw attention.”

“Yes, sir,” I teased, trying to ease the tension because my entire body was in fight mode. If someone approached me, I might easily break their nose just on instinct.

“Fourth floor.”

I pressed the button and stepped aside so others could walk in. The doors slid apart to another wave of organized chaos. Detectives rushed between offices, phones rang without pause, and someone yelled for evidence from the opposite side of the corridor.

“Left,” Lucas urged. “Mallory’s office is at the end.”

I walked down the hallway, my heartbeat matching every click of my heels. Passing the conference room, I tried to keep my gaze away from the meeting, but my feet stopped on their own. Behind the glass, about twenty detectives sat around a long table while a woman in a navy pantsuit stood before a whiteboard covered in photographs. Three of them stole every bit of air from my lungs.

Zyon.

Dorian.

Malin.

Their faces stared back at me beneath the bold words:

ZHUMAGULOV ORGANIZATION

Detective Mallory pointed at Dorian’s picture, then moved to Zyon’s, gesturing sharply as she addressed the room. Even through the glass, authority radiated from her.

“Nina,” Lucas’s sharp voice jolted me out of my trance. “You have a mission to complete. Panic is on the menu later.”

Blinking to disperse the sight of Dorian behind bars, I forced my legs to move. Mallory’s office was only two doors away. The nameplate confirmed it.

Clenching my teeth, I reached for the handle, but flinched back when the door opened. A young officer stepped out carrying a stack of folders so high he barely saw where he was going. I reacted on intuition.

“Excuse me.” I smiled warmly, and he stopped.

“Yes?”

“Detective Mallory asked me to bring her this.” I lifted the black file. “But she’s still in the briefing. Can you give it to her?”

He glanced toward the conference room, shifting the folders under one arm.

“I’ll put it on her desk,” he said, yanking it from my hand.

“Thank you.”

Without another word, he turned around and disappeared into the office. I watched through the narrow opening as he laid it neatly on top of the stack in the middle of Mallory’s desk, exactly where she’d see it.

“Done,” I whispered, relief washing over me.

“Congratulations,” Lucas sang, clapping his hands, the sound echoing in my ears. “You’ve successfully infiltrated the NYPD.”

“I walked through a door,” I corrected him, running into the elevator.