Page 57 of Corpse Roads

I’d imagine it’s the closest thing to an evil lair in the real world, like Batman’s cave. We finished the trilogy last night. It’s now entered my top three, thanks to Leighton.

Batman reminds me of Enzo a little—a colossal beast, intense and deadly, but with hidden kindness that only certain people are allowed to see. I’m not sure he’d appreciate that comparison.

“Welcome to Sabre,” Hunter says grandly.

Leaning out of the window for a retinal and fingerprint scan, he replaces his dark aviators and speeds into a busy parking garage. The city is swallowed by awaiting shadows.

I bite my lip, watching several armed guards press their hands to their foreheads before pushing them into the air. It seems to be a mark of respect that Hunter returns, his emotionless mask in place.

We park up in a bay with his surname printed in indelible ink. The others slide out of the car as Leighton helps me down. Enzo quickly muscles him out of the way and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

“Dickhead,” Leighton mutters.

Enzo ignores him as he holds me close. “Everyone here works for us, so there’s no need to be afraid. Don’t wander off though. This building is massive.”

Silently, all three of them move to block me in without a word to each other. Even Leighton is looking more subdued as we stop at a heavily armed entry door. Several guards greet Hunter and Enzo, stepping aside for them.

Escorted through a spotless corridor, we emerge into a glittering glass paradise. I have to suck in a deep breath. So many people are buzzing about, dressed in slick suits and smart dresses, talking on phones or to each other.

The ceiling is impossibly high, further than I can see. Giant lights stretch down in crystal droplets. Every surface is carved in glass or marble, sticking to clean, white lines that give a clinical feel.

Layers of beefed-up security guards line every corner of the cavernous reception. Ahead of me, moving metal teeth carry people upwards like stairs in motion.

“What is that thing?”

“Escalator,” Leighton supplies.

I cast him a grateful nod. “Huh.”

Several people stop and shake Hunter’s hand or incline their heads towards Enzo with clenched jaws. No one dares to step near him. They’re both treated with an air of superiority.

“Come on.” Hunter sighs, seeming tired with the formalities. “Theo’s waiting for us upstairs.”

We pack into an elevator that awaits down another slick corridor. Hunter has to scan a special black pass, causing the doors to slide shut with a quiet beep.

I fist my good hand in Enzo’s tight, black t-shirt, terrified by the odd sense of inertia in this tight space.

“You’re okay,” he comforts under his breath.

“I hate these things.”

“Breathe. We’ll be there soon.”

When the elevator opens on a brightly lit floor, I rush out of the enclosed prison as fast as possible. Hunter escorts us into a nearby office, tapping in a code to open the frosted-glass door.

My breathing is shallow as I step inside the space. Light washes over me, blazing through a series of floor-to-ceiling windows. The vast expanse of London awaits in high-definition grandeur.

Trailing over, I rest my palm against the glass, greedily taking in the view. It’s like we’re in heaven looking down upon the world, safe and secure in our high-rise bubble. I feel invincible up here.

Leighton joins me. “Like the view?”

“It’s so high.”

“You scared?”

Shaking my head, I smile at the little ant people on the ground. I’m away from the clutches of anyone looking to hurt me. They can’t penetrate this glass fortress wrapped in clouds and wealth.

In the corner, there’s a glass desk situated before the windows with a stunning, panoramic view. Neat stacks of books sit on every available surface around the room, with framed photographs and odd trinkets.

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