Page 87 of Knight

"Knight." Eva clutches my arm as footsteps thunder below us. "They're getting closer."

I guide her into an alcove, pressing her against the wall as flashlight beams play across the stairs. Her whole body trembles, breath coming in sharp gasps that she tries to muffle against my shoulder.

"Shh." I access their communications network, tracking team movements while booted feet pass our position. "Wait."

The instant they're past, I pull her toward a maintenance hatch. "Through here. Quick."

"What?" She stares at the narrow opening. "I can't?—"

"You can." I boost her up, ignoring her startled gasp. "Crawl forward. Don't stop." The second she’s inside, I pull off her shoes.

“Knight!”

“Too noisy. I told you to take them off.”

The vent is a tight fit, barely enough room to move. Her soft gasp echoes around the confined space when the hatch clangs shut behind us, but she moves forward.

"Keep moving." I check building schematics on my phone. "Left at the next junction."

Below us, the building is in chaos. Alarms blare, security teams converge on false emergencies I’ve triggered, and the sprinkler systems add to the confusion … just because it’s fucking funny. I set off the smoke detectors for added emphasis, sending their systems into a frenzy as it warns about multiple small fires and shuts down the elevators.

"This way." I guide Eva toward a maintenance ladder. "Easy. I've got you."

Her foot slips as she descends the ladder, her legs shaking too badly to find the rungs. I catch her, steadying her until she finds her footing.

"I can't—" She presses her face against my chest once we’re on the ground. "Knight, I can't do this again."

"Yes, you can." I cup her face, forcing her to meet my eyes. The fear in them is sharp, but there’s also determination. "Stay with me. Almost there."

Security doors begin sealing around us as emergency protocols engage floor by floor. I redirect power from critical systems, trying to buy us more time, but the building is going into complete lockdown.

We run through service hallways, Eva stumbling barefoot. Another security door starts lowering ahead of us. She freezes at the sight, but I shove her forward, pushing her through the narrowing gap before diving after her.

The door slams shut inches away from my feet, hitting the floor with a sound that makes Eva jump. Her arms go around me as I pull her up, and then she’s in my arms, her lips crashing against mine.

It’s desperate, wild, a mix of adrenaline and fear that matches the pounding of my heart. For a moment I let it consume me, dragging her closer, my hands tangling in her hair. The alarms and flashing lights fade as her body presses against mine, every barrier between us collapsing in the chaos.

When we break apart, tears streak her face. "I thought … when the alarms …"

"I know." My thumb brushes a tear from her cheek. "But we need to move. Police response time in this district is under four minutes."

I guide her through the parking structure, keeping to maintenance paths until we reach street level. She's barely holding it together by the time we blend into the crowd of evacuating employees.

Sirens approach from three directions. I keep us moving, steering her through side streets and alleys, putting distance between us and Horizon Tech. The flash drive in my pocket feels like a bomb ready to go off, but I won’t know for sure until I’m back at my computers.

"Almost there." I squeeze her hand as she stumbles, the adrenaline crash hitting hard. "Just a few more blocks."

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Evangeline

My bare feetare filthy from running through service hallways, my stockings shredded beyond repair. The expensive suit Magdalena brought me is ruined, wrinkled and torn from crawling through maintenance shafts. None of that matters. We got out. We're alive.

My body still thrums with leftover adrenaline, every nerve ending firing at once. The memory of Knight’s hands steadying me as we ran, his body shielding mine, the desperate kiss we shared in the dark—it all crashes through me in waves.

Knight takes a circuitous route back to his apartment, watching for signs we’re being followed. His focus stays sharp, but there’s an edge to his movements now, a coiled tension that has nothing to do with possible pursuit. Every time his gaze flicks toward me, heat pools low in my stomach. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and I find myself mesmerized by the play of muscle in his forearms as he navigates through traffic.

"We’re here." Knight finally pulls into the gated community where his apartment is. "No one followed us."

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