Page 35 of Critical Strike

When he whirled around, she was holding Khan out to him.

Of course she was.

“Come on, cat.” Khan knew what to do and scurried through the window to safety. There were no sounds from the outside, a good sign.

He turned back to Claire, linking his hands together so she could step into them. It took barely any effort to hoist her up, and she slid through the opening without difficulty.

His turn.

Grabbing hold of the window’s bottom frame, he pulled himself up. Little bits of glass pricked his palms, but he ignored the pain and wiggled into the window until his shoulders got stuck.

Damn it.

He had to ease himself back into the closet to come at the window from another angle. The smoke was getting bad. If he couldn’t make it through, he might not be getting out of this building at all.

He pulled himself up again, twisting to make himself as narrow as possible through the shoulders. He bit back a curse at the sharp pain ripping through his shirt and into his flesh—a piece of glass that had shifted. There was nowhere to get away from it, so he pulled his shoulders the rest of the way through, gritting his teeth at the burn.

Once his shoulders were out, the rest was slightly easier. Twisting again, he used the wall to give himself leverage. By the time he was all the way out, he could feel the blood soaking his shirt and was barely able to keep from coughing from the smoke inhalation.

He sucked in a deep breath. There would be time later to rest and worry about his wound. Right now, he needed to get them out of here. “Let’s head for the bushes, Kitten.”

When there was no response, he looked in both directions but didn’t see any sign of Claire. Ignoring his screaming shoulder, he moved to rise.

And stopped at a voice that definitely wasn’t Claire’s.

“Don’t move and keep your hands where I can see them.”

Chapter Eleven

Luke’s gun was tucked in the back waistband of his jeans. This guy would definitely get a shot off if he went for it, especially slowed down by his shoulder.

He raised his hands. “Easy.”

“Where’s the woman?” The man took a step closer.

Luke fought not to let his relief be seen. If they were still looking for Claire, then that meant they didn’t have her. Yet.

“What woman?” Maybe feigning innocence would buy him some time.

The guy stepped closer. “You know who I’m talking about.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. I just fell asleep in the library. The place is on fire, man.”

He tried to check his peripheral vision for any sign of Claire. Was she safe? She wouldn’t have just left him there. Maybe she’d run off after Khan.

The guy’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know who you are or how you got involved with her, but she’s guilty of murder. If you tell me where she is, we’ll make sure she’s brought to justice before she hurts anyone else. You don’t have to get hurt. Nobody else needs to get hurt.”

The guy kept his weapon steady and trained on Luke. He was definitely a professional.

“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about.” Luke continued his charade, spoke slowly and kept his hands up. “I just want to get away from this burning building.”

“If you don’t know who or where she is, then you’re not of any use to us. Might as well get rid of you now.”

So much for them being the good guys.

The man kept his gun trained on Luke as he brought his walkie-talkie up with his other hand. “This is Brickman. Tell Kenneth I’ve got—”

With a sickening thud, Brickman crumpled. His gun hit the ground, followed by his face.

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