Page 45 of Consume Me

“That’s it,” I coaxed her, rolling myself against her. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Promise?” She moaned as her breath began to hitch.

“Always,” I vowed. Reaching for her hip, my hand closed over silk and then she was gone. Her silk robe was in my hands but there was no Clara.

I shot out of the chair, only remembering where I was in time to stop myself from waking Elizabeth.

I didn’t think. I couldn’t. I’d had her in my hands. It was only a memory, but it had felt so real and it had reminded of exactly what I had to lose.

Marching down the hall, I went to Sarah’s room and threw open the door. She sat up in bed, eyes rimmed with tears, expectation on her face.

“Where is she?” I demanded, tired of these games, tired of maneuvers, tired of knowing the answers might be right down the hall.

Sarah burst into tears. “I don’t know.”

Chapter 16

He was beginning to grow bored. A day had passed, at least. It felt more like two. Regardless of how they tried to screw with his senses, his internal clock regulated the hours fairly accurately. During that time, nothing had happened.

And Norris needed something to happen.

He’d managed to carefully unfasten the restraints, despite the broken bones in his hand and refasten them at the loosest setting. That meant it looked like nothing was out of the ordinary to the nurses when they came to check.

He had to wonder, though, why it hadn’t occurred to anyone that his lack of escape attempts was the most suspicious thing of all. In his day, MI-18 operatives had been better trained.

He had no doubt that was who had him now. Although he hadn’t worked out the why yet, he’d come up with a number of plausible scenarios. All he had from the evening of the attack was fragmented memories and they told a chilling story.

It was nearly enough to make him throw caution to the window and try his luck. But luck would only get him so far. Planning and waiting, even while the clock wound down, were much more likely to yield positive results.

He reminded himself of that every waking hour that passed without incident. He was about to release his theory when he heard shouts in the hallway and the sound of a gurney’s wheels.

Norris slipped his hands through the loosened cuffs and sat up, carefully keeping his blood pressure in check until the moment he tore off the leads connecting him to the machines.

Standing, he found his legs stiff, but the more trying physical obstacle was the soreness in his lower abdomen from where he’d been stabbed. The good news was that adrenaline was already beginning to kick in. He’d collected two useful objects from the nursing staff over the last two days: a badge and a paperclip. Because he’d been bound, no one had bothered to check him for the missing items although he was certain that their disappearance had been noted.

On cue, a security officer walked into the door. Even with whatever chaos was going on outside, someone had noticed the monitors and hand delivered exactly what he needed.

“Stop,” the guard ordered, reaching for his pistol.

That was his first mistake. He should have had it drawn when he came in.

A base-level security officer was no match for a man who’d been trained in six forms of martial arts. Two moves and one carefully timed chokehold and Norris knocked him out. Killing him—however much he might have liked to—wouldn’t do him any good.

Within a minute, he had the man stripped and in the hospital bed. Reattaching the leads to the guard and angling the man’s face carefully meant that no one would check in again until the guard failed to check in. Norris could fake that. He knew the protocols. That meant he had until a nurse went on rounds to get out of here.

The guard’s uniform fit well enough. He was a little taller, but no one would notice.

Instinct took over as he made his way to the door and peeked around it. The hall was deserted. Whatever emergency had offered the needed distraction had the attention of everyone on this level.

There were two ways to escape a high-surveillance situation. The first was simple. Don’t be seen before you’re out. It was also nearly impossible. Given modern technology, movement could easily be tracked. Anything out of the ordinary would catch the attention of security. That meant the second way was usually the best. It also required more than an average skill level.

Blending in with his surroundings, looking like he belonged—that was the only ticket out of an MI-18 secured facility. He knew that. It’s why he’d patiently waited days to gather as much information as possible before he made an attempt.

He’d only get one chance. Of course, he only needed one.

Security systems in corridors usually relied on cameras tucked in perpendicular corners at either end. Opening his door a crack meant he could see out while blocking one camera. The other quite possibly had a clear view of him. That’s where the distraction came in. Whatever was occupying the entire medical staff likely had the attention of the men watching the cameras as well.

Slipping across to the nurse’s station, he sank onto a stool, dropped the seat low, and swiveled it to look around at his options. The lower height of the chair combined with the higher counter would help block the cameras in the hall. There was likely one trained on the station—one that was rarely watched. No one ever worried about what was going on behind the counter.