Page 254 of Golden Eagle

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Trina had chosen the place for the meeting, and Dr. Fowler had agreed too easily. She’d picked an office building that was occupied, thinking the presence of civilians – those that remained after five – would deter the Institute from taking drastic action against them, and maybe show a little goodwill on her part for the same reason.

But, now, standing in front of the main doors, she felt more than a slight twinge of doubt. What if they got someone hurt? Killed? Could she live with that?

Now wasn’t the time to let her conscience get in the way. She pushed through the revolving door, Mia and Jamie behind her, and strode into the terrazzo-floored lobby.

A night watchmen, bright-eyed, probably just come onto his shift, glanced up from the computer at the front desk, and called a “good evening,” a question in his voice. She remembered his name was Miguel, his face familiar.

Mia pulled out her badge and showed it to him. “Detective Baskin,” she said by way of greeting, sure to give him a long look at her picture and decide her badge was real. “I worked the Jefferson case here back in the summer.”

His brows went up, and recognition dawned. “Right. Yeah. You caught the guy, didn’t you?”

“We did, but my boss wants me to have another look at the scene. The trial’s coming up and there’s some loose ends.” She rolled her eyes, feigning bored.

“Oh, you need to go up? Sure. Yeah. Seventh floor’s still empty.”

“Great. We shouldn’t be long.”

“The phones are still connected up there, or at least one is. Call down if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Miguel.”

She didn’t exhale properly until they were closed into the elevator and going up, and then it was a deep rush of breath.

“Okay, you being nervous is gonna make me a lot more nervous,” Jamie said.

“I’m not. Just…working out the kinks.” She popped her neck side to side as an afterthought.

Mia pulled out her phone and hit Send on the text waiting in her outbox. It was one headed to Kolya, Fulk, and Anna, the signal that they were past the first obstacle, and on their way up.

Trina reached beneath her jacket to check her holster, again. Flexed her ankle the tiniest fraction to feel the slim little spare gun she’d stowed in the shaft of her boot. They were an old pair of harness boots she’d bought years ago, when she was going through a wanting-to-look-badass phase; not the comfiest, but she had a gun down one, and a knife down another, and that made them worth their weight in gold right now.

The elevator climbed, slow and smooth.

Mia took an audible breath. “The reason I wanted to come…there’s something I should tell you,” she began, haltingly.

The elevator arrived with a polite lurch and a ding.

“Not now,” Trina said. “We need to move.”

The doors opened on a wide, unlit area filled with cubicles. A few exit signs threw a faint red glow, revealing the low walls of them, and the cleared place where a number had been folded up, back in the summer, to allow room for cleanup after the Jefferson case.

It had been a nasty scene. So nasty, in fact, that when employees tried to return to work, they’d experienced what they’d described as “ghost activity.” Management had moved to a satellite location, and so far hadn’t made any steps to return, so the two floors of Mason Unlimited remained empty. Haunted.

Mia walked forward, slowly, the two vampires flanking her, and turned the first corner to find light shining through the gaps in the blinds of the conference room.

Dr. Fowler was already here.

They’d nearly reached the door when two black-clad men stepped forward out of the shadows, the faint ambient glow from the blinds gleaming faintly on the matte barrels of the rifles they carried on their shoulders. Trina managed to bite back her gasp, but Mia and Jamie didn’t.

“Trina Baskin,” she said, snappish to cover her startlement. “We’re here for the meeting.”

“We need to pat you down,” one of them said.

She’d expected as much, but damn. She held out her arms and widened her stance without argument. One of the goons handed his rifle to the other, and did the honors, brisk and efficient.

Mia made a quiet, unhappy sound in her throat when it was her turn, and Trina shot her a glance over her shoulder she hoped she could see:Play it cool.

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