Page 87 of I Dream of Danger
Nick wasn’t ready to die. Not even close. He wanted to live with Elle for the rest of his life. In Haven, on Mount Blue. Soon they would become completely self-sufficient and they could just turn their backs on the broken world and live in happy isolation. Living the rest of his life with Elle—oh man. Waking up next to her, eating with her, sleeping with her.
Fucking her.
The thought jolted him. First, because it shot a crude rush of heat through his system, and second, because for the first time in his life he realized he’d been making love to Elle, not fucking her, and oh, shit. This was it. He wanted that for the rest of his life.
He wanted her. He needed her.
Nick…
“The rooftop door is open.” Jon’s flat voice broke his pity party and suddenly Nick was back, focused and ready to get the job done.
He checked the rooftop carefully, dialing down the aperture of the NVG. There was some light coming from the aircraft warning light atop a pole that jutted fifty feet in the air above their heads and it blinded him.
Nick…
The field was green, flat. He reconned in quarters—a quarter of the field of vision, blink, another quarter…
There it was. The rooftop door. Open, just as Jon had said.
He looked over and their eyes met. That’s not good. They might as well have spoken the words aloud.
Nick. Something’s wrong.
Nick jerked as he realized Elle had been trying to contact him. She’d done it! Elle had said she’d try to go under when they landed on the roof of the Arka building.
Nick…
For a second Nick forgot that they were on the top of a building with serious security, trying to rescue four people who were God-knows-where and in God-knows-what condition. What did it matter? Elle was here with him.
And now he felt her completely, like a gentle hand petting him, a steady warmth in his head.
“I’ve got Elle,” he told Jon.
Jon’s mouth tightened. “Yeah? What’s she say?”
“That something’s wrong.”
Jon’s response, almost scripted, should have been No shit, Sherlock. But he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything. He just tightened his mouth again and started unbuckling.
In a moment they were both in a crouch, weapon in hand, moving toward the open door from two different directions. It if was a trap, maybe one of them could survive.
Elle followed him in his head, utterly quiescent, instinctively understanding that he couldn’t deal with distractions.
They reached the door. It was open only an inch and behind the door it was dark. Jon flattened himself on the right side, weapon shouldered. Nick waited a moment, trying to hear what was on the other side.
No one there, a faint voice whispered in his head.
Well, if this was going to work, he was going to have to trust her.
He kicked open the door, jumping over the high barrier, designed to keep heavy rain from seeping into the stairwell, landing lightly on a landing, weapon up, completely ready to face the enemy.
Who wasn’t there.
Nobody in the stairwell. Elle sounded uncertain. Puzzled.
Nick peered over the banister at the endless flights leading downward. There were faint emergency lights on the landings, but they were no help. The bottom was down there somewhere but invisible.
Arka headquarters covered all the floors from the twenty-second floor to the ground floor.
