Page 67 of Dark Soul

He had to get Alexia out of there.

Slowly, since there was nothing under his feet anymore, he shifted sideways along the cornice, holding on by the strength of his fingers alone, looking for the next window.

“Rogue. Alexia needs help. I’m going to create a distraction in Kvyat’s room, see if I can get them out of the room.”

“Understood. I’ll be ready.”

Dark finally found purchase with his feet, standing up on the small balcony that he knew looked right into Kvyat’s master suite. It was dark inside, but he could just about make out an enormous king-sized bed.

He stretched out his arms gratefully.

Fuck, that hurt.

But he couldn’t stop. He hefted a small, solid-looking flower pot in his hand—hefted it and slammed it on the glass.

It broke on the second go, the crash louder than he’d expected.

Perfect.

Dark didn’t wait. He pulled himself up on his arms again, making the same journey in reverse.

“They’re both running towards you, Dark,” Rogue said quietly.

But Dark was no longer there. He was on his way to the office once again.

Back to Alexia.

“I’m going to the office,” Rogue said, correctly interpreting Dark’s silence. “I’ll open the window for you.”

Dark didn’t bother replying.

It was harder this time—because his arms were tired, and his fingers half-frozen—but he finally made it to the window, pulled himself up on his elbows. And at least he didn’t have to be as careful to stay silent this time around.

He had one leg up, getting ready to push against the window—break it, if necessary—when Rogue opened the window for him from the inside.

Dark clambered inside … and saw Alexia’s prone body on the ground.

No.

Something in his gaze got Rogue talking—fast. “I didn’t do anything to her. I saw her fall and hit her head against the desk, Dark,” Rogue said, rushing his words. “She’s breathing.”

Dark was on his knees beside her in an instant, checking for himself.

And though his fingers were shaking hard, her pulse came through, strong and steady. He moved her head gently and saw the bruise forming on one side of her head.

Dark pulled in a harsh breath. He had to get Alexia out of here. But there was still a chance to save the mission.

“The briefcase,” he told Rogue. “There was a silver briefcase on the desk.”

Rogue shook his head. “It’s gone now. Kvyat had it in his hand when he ran away.” He licked his lips. “I’m planting a bug under the desk. We might get lucky, if they don’t sweep every day. We need to get out of here, Dark.”

Dark nodded. There would be guards all over the house in a matter of minutes—if they weren’t there already. And they couldn’t exactly walk downstairs with an unconscious woman in their arms.

“Do you have a rope?”

Rogue nodded, bringing out a thin piece of cord from his pocket. “Always.”

“Help me get Alexia on my back. We’re going out the window,” Dark said, pointing to the window on the other side, away from the bedroom window where Kvyat and his guards were probably standing right now.