Page 5 of Breaking Danger
They’d lost the notion of glass.
His skin crawled.
He was now locked in a building with who knew how many creatures, with no idea whether Sophie Daniels was alive or dead or even in the building.
A snarl from the darkness of the lobby and another monster came running full speed at him.
Jesus. A kid. A Chinese kid who weighed maybe 100 lbs, and who had a broken arm. A split second of hesitation and the boy leaped, screaming, hands furled into claws, aiming for his eyes. He didn’t even have time to bring up the stunner. It hurt his heart, but he did it. A sharp blow from his elbow to his temple and the boy went down and stayed down.
Christ. Jon stared at him on the floor, a small broken being, unmistakably dead. Akid, for fuck’s sake. And he was the one who’d killed him. It unnerved him, left him shaken where the battlefield didn’t.
Jon didn’t do this. He’d spent his entire childhood watching the weak being destroyed by the strong. No matter how good and kind you were, if you fell into the wrong hands you were prey, and you were broken.
He’d spent his entire life trying to rectify that equation. That he was the strong one who’d killed a boy shook him down to his core.
He had to get out of here.
Sophie Daniels lived on the third floor. Jon moved fast, taking the stairs three at a time, grimly resolved. The stairs were slick with blood.
The third floor was miraculously clear. The building was a big one, and the corridor went right and left at the end. Jon rushed down, leaping over the corpses, counting doors. 312, 313, 314…315!
He looked at the lock. Oddly enough it was a pretty good one. One it would take even him a minute to pick. He was vulnerable out here, goddammit.
He knocked softly on the door. Put his mouth close. “Dr. Daniels? Dr. Sophie Daniels?”
Silence.
He pressed against it, knocking softly again. “Sophie? Elle sends me. It’s Jon Ryan, she said she sent you an email?—”
Oh Christ. A loud sound around the corner at the end. A blood-flecked face peeked around the corner. A big guy, dressed in a suit now torn in tatters. When he saw Jon he lifted his head and howled. Like a wolf.
Goose bumps broke out all over Jon’s body.
The guy started coming at him at a run.
“Sophie!” The rap was harder this time, still met by silence. Jon put his back to the door, took aim with his Glock 310, finger on the trigger tightening, aiming at the neocortex because he wanted the fucker to go down and stay down, tunnel visioning, finger tightening, the infected barreling down the corridor screaming…
The door at his back opened, a hand grabbed him around the throat from behind and pulled.
Taken off balance, still concentrated on the shot, Jon stumbled into the room, his shot gouging a hole in the wall next to the infected, who kept on coming. He fell down onto something soft, warm, fragrant.
Jon slammed his booted foot forward, slamming the door closed. The snick of the automatic lock sounded just as he heard a heavy body hitting the door.
Safe.
Safe in some soft, aromatic place.
With a beautiful woman.
He turned over.
He found himself on top of a woman with a heart shaped face surrounded by a cloud of dark hair. The room was dark and her pale skin glowed in the dim light. Dark blue eyes, a small, straight nose, soft pillowy lips.
A face that was etched in his mind since he’d seen her photograph back in Haven among a list of scientists and test subjects who’d been kidnapped. The idea of her in the hands of Arka Pharmaceutical, who had tried to have him, Mac, Nick, Catherine and Elle killed, had haunted his thoughts.
“Sophie Daniels,” he said to the woman underneath him.
She was pale but all of a sudden her face turned rosy with a blush.
