Page 30 of Bitten Shifter

“You’ve got this,” I reassure her, my voice steady despite my racing heart.

Nodding, Sophie takes a shaky breath and begins to climb.

“There’s a vent right in front of you. Do you see it?”

“Yes,” she says, her voice muffled from within the ceiling.

“Okay, you will have to lift yourself and crawl onto it. Wait one second…” I grab a thick tea towel from a drawer. “Here, cover the sharp edges so you don’t scrape yourself. All right? In you go.”

Sophie’s movements are shaky, but she is surprisingly agile, managing to shimmy into the tight space with minimal fuss.

“There’s not a lot of room,” she whispers once she’s settled.

“Yeah, I know.”

She blinks down at me, puffy red eyes wide with worry. Clumps of sweaty blonde hair stick to her face, making her look even younger. “But what about you?”

What about me?

I swallow hard, wincing at the thought of what might come next. Ah well. This is what playing the hero looks like, isn’t it? I force a bright smile. “There’s no room for both of us. See that loose ceiling tile? Yes, that one. Pull it across.”

“But, Lark…” Her lips tremble. “What about you?”

“I will be fine, Sophie.” The words taste bitter, but I manage to keep my tone light. “Stay quiet, and we will get through this.”

Her chin wobbles. “Please. I can’t leave you down there. We can find another way. I can shift?—”

“No.” My voice is firm, but I soften it with a small, reassuring smile. “I will be fine, I promise. Now, go on—close it up.”

Her hands shake as she slides the tile back into place, her movements slow and reluctant.

“Don’t come down until you are positive it’s all clear, okay?” I whisper.

“Okay.”

“All right. Silent now.”

The faint scrape of the ceiling tile settling back into position is the last sound I hear before silence descends.

I exhale quietly, leaning against the counter. My gaze drifts to the wannabe torturer at my feet. It takes everything I have not to boot him in the head. Instead, I grab the dart gun. It makes a satisfyingpfftas I fire, a blue-tipped dart embedding itself in his arse.

I nod with grim satisfaction.

Dart gun in hand, I crack the door open and listen. I have no idea where to go next. The main stairs are glass and steel—too exposed. The rear fire exit stairwell is better but still risky. Or I could hunt down another coffee station and climb into another vent.

Yeah, that’s the best option. People rarely look up.

Except these aren’t regular people, are they?I groan and shove the nasty inner voice aside. I’d give anything for shifter senses right now.

The corridor seems clear—quiet enough, at least. Crouching low, I dash down the hall, keeping close to the wall.

As I round a corner, I nearly collide with two armed men.

They freeze.

I freeze.

“Where the hell did you come from?” one growls.

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