"You three," I said, pointing to the staff members closest to the door. "Grab the body. Dump it in the hallway."
For a moment no one moved. The office had gone completely silent after Brittney died. Everyone stood transfixed, staring at the blood on the floor, at the weapons in my hands, at the corpse lying twisted near the desk. Eventually, the three I had pointed at exchanged nervous glances. Then they stepped forward.
I bent down and wiped the blood from my weapons using the torn fabric of Brittney's sweater while they lifted the body. Her limbs dangled loosely as they carried her toward the door, their expressions pale and tight.
No one else dared approach. The remaining employees crowded around the doorway to the back room, craning their necks to see what was happening but keeping their distance from me, as if I might bite.
I spared a glance at Caitlin. She stood among the others but didn't share their expressions. While the rest stared with open unease, her gaze was sharp and steady. Scrutinizing. I thought I could even sense some interest. Our eyes met. She didn't look away.
For a few seconds we held that silent stare before the thought of my squad mates finally pushed everything else aside. Trent and Lloyd clattered softly as I set them on the desk. Then I hurried over to Mous.
With Brittney out of the room, I was more or less already aware of her state. Still, I crouched beside her and pressed two fingers against the side of her neck.
A pulse beat steadily beneath my touch.
I sighed in relief. She was just unconscious. Caitlin came over and knelt beside me.
"Is she alright?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said, rising to my feet. I wiped sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. "Can you help take her into the room?"
She nodded and waved over a few others to help. As they moved past me, a low groan sounded from the far wall.
I almost forgot about Lydia. She was leaning on the wall, struggling to stay upright. I jogged over in time to catch her before she fell.
"That's twice I've had to bail out your sorry ass," she said through a crooked, pained grin. "You're slipping, Cap."
I scoffed and shifted her arm across my shoulders. "Please. I totally had that."
She leaned heavily against me as we started toward the door.
"If anything we're even," I continued. "You're welcome, by the way. If I hadn't stepped in we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. On account of your skull being smashed in."
"You wouldn't understand," she muttered. "It was classic subterfuge. I wanted her to—"
A violent coughing fit cut her off.
Her whole body shook with it.
"What was that?" I said with a smirk. "You may want to speak up. I can't hear you over the sound of broken ribs and egos."
"Asshole," she rasped.
We reached the door to the back room just as Caitlin returned. She moved to help support Lydia's other side. Then something pricked at my senses. Both sound and smell.
They were already on the floor.
My head snapped toward the office door. In the hallway, a dim orange glow flickered against the walls.
"Shit." I shoved Lydia toward Caitlin. "Get in. Now."
"What?" Lydia tried to turn, confusion in her voice. "What's going on?"
"Inside," I snapped. Caitlin didn't argue. She dragged Lydia through the doorway as I hurried them along.
"Lock it," I ordered. "Do not open it under any circumstances without my signal."
The glow grew brighter. Footsteps echoed closer.
"What's the signal?" Caitlin asked quickly.
I jerked my head toward Lydia.
"She'll know."
"Stretch, wait—" The door slammed shut. Locks clicked into place behind it.
I turned back toward the office. The light spilled across the floor now, long shadows stretching through the room. I grabbed Trent and Lloyd from the desk then moved to the wall at the far end and settled into a fighting stance, watching the door. The flarelight flooded into the office. And right on cue, they stepped inside.
Two of them.
I watched silently as the first one entered.
Aside from Brittney, he was the smallest member of the order I had seen today. Leaner. Quick-looking. His head turned constantly as he surveyed the room, eyes darting behind the mask as if cataloging everything.
When he spotted me standing alone, his eyebrows lifted slightly. He wandered over to the desk and hopped up onto it, sitting casually and swinging his legs like he had all the time in the world.
The second man followed him in. This one filled the doorway.
Huge.
He wasn't quite as tall as Evan had been, but he made up for it with sheer bulk. His shoulders were massive, muscles straining beneath his clothes as he stepped inside. He stopped beside the door and raised the flare in one hand. Its harsh orange light illuminated the room.
Both men wore the same masks I'd seen on their associates earlier. Weapons hung from their belts. The one sitting on the desk carried a dagger. The big guy had two batons. And of course there was the smell. I'd sensed it from Evan, Brittney and now them.
All of them boosted on Rox.
Brittney had been weaker than Evan. Her scent hadn't carried the same intensity. Judging from that, neither of them was as strong as Evan. But they were definitely stronger than Brittney. Much stronger. Especially the smaller one, which was surprising.
He didn't look like much but my nose told me a different story. Whatever Rox was doing to their bodies, muscle mass wasn't the deciding factor.
"Are you alone?" The smaller one asked. "Where are your friends?"
I didn't answer.
"Ah." A faint smile spread across his face. "A quiet one."
He studied me. "And brave too, by the looks of it. You plan to face us alone, don't you?"
Wrong. I wasn't brave. I was an idiot. An idiot who was about to get himself killed because he'd overestimated his own abilities.
But something inside me was shifting again. I had felt it earlier tonight when I fought Evan. Then again when I killed Brittney. A sensation remarkably similar to one I felt over a year ago. When I was at the edge of enlightenment.
Every ounce of logic I had left tried its best to sway me away from my foolhardy decision. But instinct whispered something else.
Push forward. Test yourself. Find out what happens.
I had no way of knowing if that instinct was right. But I was about to find out.
"You, my friend, are becoming a problem," the smaller man continued. His tone remained light, almost amused. "First you kill our lovely apprentice. Then two of our junior disciples go missing."
His eyes shifted briefly toward the larger man beside him. The giant hadn't taken his eyes off me. Bloodshot. Rage simmered there. I filed that detail away.
He gestured to the hallway. "And now you've killed Brittney. It's almost like you have some grudge against us."
He chuckled and cracked his knuckles. "That all ends now. We've been sent to remove you from the equation. Permanently."
I tensed, keeping both of them in view.
"Shame, really. I like guys like you. Maybe you'd consi—"
A deep voice cut him off. "Where's Iris?"
The giant had spoken. His tone was low and rough, like grinding stone.
The smaller man sighed. "Derek, this is hardly the time for—"
"Where is she?" The question came again, louder this time. "What have you done to her?"
The anger pouring off him was almost tangible. Raw. Primal. The kind of fury that could only come from…
Ah.
Iris was the woman I killed earlier. He had asked for her by name, not even mentioning Turk who was with her. He cared for her. Deeply.
"Answer me!"
This was the moment. It was sink or swim now. I forced the widest grin I could manage.
"Oh, Iris!" I tapped the side of my head as if a memory had just clicked into place. "So that was her name."
I tilted my head slightly. "Can't believe I never asked. She had quite the voice."
The rage spiked instantly.
"I especially liked the sound she made when I squeezed the life from her." I shrugged casually. "You really had to be there. Beautiful, honestly."
He snapped.
The partner jumped off the desk. "Derek no!"
There was no use. The flare clattered to the floor as Derek dropped it. His massive hands grabbed the batons at his belt.
He roared.
The sound burst out of him like an animal's bellow, shaking the room and rattling something deep inside my bones. If I hadn't been nervous before, I definitely was now. When it ended, Derek stood there heaving, chest rising and falling violently.
Then he barrelled toward me.
I did the same.
The reaction was immediate. For the briefest instant, his stride faltered. A tiny fracture in his focus.
His baton whipped toward my head in a fierce horizontal swing. I slipped inside the arc, the weapon hissing past my face as the swing missed by inches. We crossed past each other. I switched my grip, bending my wrist and dragging Lloyd behind me.
It tore into his abdomen.
The blade bit through fabric and flesh. It wasn't deep. The damage was minimal. But it was enough. Enough to inflict pain.
I didn't halt my motion. The instant my feet hit the floor behind him, I pivoted hard and launched myself right back at him.
My fights against Evan and Brittney had taught me something important. You couldn't let these freaks dictate the pace. Their bodies were much stronger and faster, but their fighting instincts were crude. Force them onto the defensive and they stumbled over their own advantages.
Derek turned just as I closed in again. A baton dropped toward my shoulder. I caught it on Lloyd's haft and shoved it aside, stepping in close before the second one could come around.
Trent flicked upward toward his jaw.
His head jerked back and the blade skimmed past his face. The second baton drove at my chest.
I twisted away and clipped his forearm with Lloyd as it passed, forcing the strike wide. Trent changed direction and chopped low toward his thigh. He jumped back, taking a second to reset.
Good reflexes. Much faster than his frame suggested. But not as fast as the others.
Trent shot forward again, aimed straight for his chest.
A baton lashed up and caught the haft. I transitioned fluidly, sliding the blade down the length of the baton. The edge scraped metal before biting into the exposed fingers wrapped around it. He jerked violently with a sharp grunt. Pain cracked his composure.
Sloppy.
I reversed the motion and drove Trent's hammer straight into his hip.
The contact landed with a heavy wallop. He staggered sideways, anger flaring instantly in his movements. The right baton came around in a deadly backhand swing.
It was wild. And that made it obvious.
I leaned back just enough for the strike to miss and kicked hard into his crotch in the same motion. The blow folded him slightly. Far less than it would've on a normal person.
The baton continued its path, the wind of the swing brushing hard against my cheek. Strong. Ridiculously strong. If that had landed clean it might've broken something.
A grin started tugging at the corner of my mouth. Fatigue from nonstop fighting was creeping into my limbs, but adrenaline still burned hot in my veins.
I could finish him.
If I moved fast enough, then his partner couldn't join in and turn this into a two versus one. Fighting Derek while constantly guarding against a sneak attack from the other man was starting to take its toll.
I stepped in again, denying either of us respite. I feinted another kick toward his groin. Both batons dropped instinctively to intercept it. My foot slammed back onto the floor as I twisted my hips and spun. Lloyd carved across his chest. The blade ripped through cloth and sliced a long, bleeding line across the muscle beneath. I didn't stop the motion.
The momentum of the spin carried through into the second strike. My pivoting foot ground against the floor as Trent slashed toward his neck.
Then the other man finally moved.
Sparks flew as his weapon intercepted mine. The dagger caught Trent's edge and forced it off course. I had already disengaged, jumping back the length of the room before either of them could capitalize on the opening my attack had created.
Both men stood facing me now.
Derek breathed heavily, clutching the baton with injured fingers. Blood ran down his chest and stomach in dark streaks where I had opened him. His partner, on the other hand, looked perfectly composed. The dagger rested loosely between his fingers as if it weighed nothing at all.
I hardly saw him move. If he'd wanted, he could have gotten in a strike instead of saving Derek. It would have been fatal.
I almost laughed. It had to be some kind of sick cosmic joke. One of them hit almost as hard as Evan. The other moved nearly as fast. And I was about to fight them both at the same time.
The man slowly brought his hands together and began to clap, the dagger still balanced between his fingers.
"Well," he said, "I understand it now. How you've managed to survive this long."
He gave a short nod. "We underestimated you. I apologize for that."
His tone sounded almost sincere. He turned to Derek and lightly tapped the massive man on the back. "Let's not make that mistake again."
Derek nodded once, still breathing heavily. Still simmering in his wrath. The smaller one lifted his dagger and rolled his shoulders slightly, loosening them. His posture changed. It was keener now.
"Let's coordinate this time," he said quietly.
They both moved. At the same time.
Straight toward me.