Page 102 of Crimson Moon Falling

“No. I’m alone in a stairwell in some building. I shocked the orderlies and stole someone’s scrubs. I don’t know where–”

“We’re tracking you,” he cut in. “You’re at an Apex Mentis health clinic next to the Nellis Air Force Base. We’re about three minutes out, and Conall’s with me. So are Jamie and Ash. Go to the underground parking garage and find a place to hide.”

A door opened somewhere above me. The heavy clang of metal against concrete carried down the stairwell.

“Someone is in the stairwell,” I breathed out.

“Walk normally down to the parking garage,” Parker advised me. “Stay with me.”

“Okay.” I pressed the phone harder against my ear and kept going down, trying to make my footsteps sound casual. The oversized shoes slapped awkwardly.

Someone was walking down the stairwell with me, maybe three flights up. The implant calculated the body mass, distance, and speed from the person’s tread. Male, at least two hundred pounds, moving at a controlled pace. Not running, but moving briskly.

I tried to keep my breathing even, but panic and fear were setting in. The implant sent a sharp vibration through my nervous system, trying to force me to calm down.

The stairs seemed endless, and my body ached. The burns on my ankles had begun to weep through the scrubs. The footsteps behind me matched my pace. Not speeding up or slowing down.

I hit the bottom of the stairwell, pushed through the door into the parking garage, and started walking faster. Just a nurse heading to her car after a long shift. Nothing to see.

I followed the signs to the entrance, wanting to meet up with Conall and Parker as soon as possible.

Halfway down the aisle, something made me turn. Langston’s remaining uninjured ogre, Garrett, stood in the stairwell doorway. His gaze locked onto the white streak in my hair.

“Stop!” he roared, his voice echoing off the concrete as he raised his gun. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot you in the fucking back!”

I ducked and ran.

Chapter 32

Riley

A bullet hit the concrete wall behind me. Another zipped past my ear and punched into a sedan with a metallic thunk.

I ducked low, weaving between a minivan and a pickup, keeping the vehicles between me and the ogre’s line of sight. Glass shattered somewhere to my left, and the acrid smell of gunfire filled the air.

“Stop running, you stupid bitch,” Garrett snarled. “Or I’ll put one in your spine.”

My lungs burned as the implant sent another zap through my system, trying to keep me upright and moving. “Quit shocking me,” I muttered at the thing. I already knew I needed better cover.

An engine purred to life behind me, and headlights flicked on, sweeping across the garage. A black SUV with tinted windows pulled out and stopped in the middle of the aisle.

Adrian Marlowe stepped out, and my breath seized as I frantically glanced between him and the ogre. He looked the same as he had in Yellowstone, except he wore charcoal pants and a white button-down instead of tactical gear. His eyes found me and lit with satisfaction and pleasure.

Then he turned to the ogre, his face cold. “Why are you shooting at one of my assets?”

“That little asset almost killed my partner–”

Marlowe fired, and the bullet struck Garrett in the throat, just below the jaw. His massive hand came up, and he staggered, took two steps forward, then collapsed.

The garage went quiet as the ogre’s blood spread in a dark pool underneath him, reflecting the fluorescent lights overhead. I dropped behind a sedan’s bumper, breathing hard. My knees pressed into cold concrete. The dead ogre lay twenty feet away, one arm outstretched, his fingers curled. I gritted my teeth against the fear rising in my throat.

“Riley. Come out, sweetheart. We need to go.”

Marlowe’s voice carried across the garage, calm and mockingly intimate. He hadn’t moved from beside the SUV. The silencer on his Glock gleamed dully under the lights.

“Let me help you.” His voice carried that same horrifyingly reasonable tone he’d used in Roswell, only now it held Compulsion energy. The throbbing pain from the burns kept me grounded as my implant hummed, running threat assessments, escape scenarios, and survival probabilities.

I inched forward as quietly as I could, keeping low, and pulled the large gun out of the dead ogre’s hand as Marlowe turned in a slow circle. Then I eased back behind a truck, the thing feeling slick and heavy in my hand.