Page 121 of Warrior

“Relax.” Ouranos keeps stroking Nadine’s arm. “She’ll be okay. It’s just to make her sleep.”

Gabriel seems to have come prepared. There’s a syringe in his hand, the cap off and needle tip catching the light as he pushes out a drop of liquid. He approaches Nadine, whose chin wobbles.

Did Artemis look at him like this? With such fear?

My stomach twists, and I risk a glance at Antonio.

He was there—he witnessed Gabriel’s cruelty first-hand.

The room is completely silent as the Cyclops manhandling her straightens her arm away from her body. Gabriel slides her sweater up, and his body blocks what he does next.

Inject her, I can only imagine.

“Don’t…” she says weakly.

They release her.

She staggers, then goes to her knees. Gabriel falls with her, cupping her cheeks.

“Sweet dreams, Alderman,” he coos. “We’ll talk about it when you wake up.”

When she falls unconscious, mayhem erupts.

A few bolt for the main exit. I grab Antonio and haul him with me into one of the many hallways.

Likefuckare we going to be put through some loyalty test.

A gunshot rings out, then another.

Bloodbath.

“Faster,” I grunt at him.

The nightclub manager, Sam, is with us, as is the chef. I don’t know what happened to the two bouncers.

“There,” Antonio wheezes, jerking my arm to the left.

There’s a service door his waitresses use when things need restocking. I yank it open and shove him in ahead of me, then Sam. Artemis would probably kill me if I left her. I push the door open wider for the chef, still coming down the hall, when a Cyclops spots us.

He shoots without hesitation.

The chef screams and falls.

Fuck.

I slam the door shut and lock it. I have to—it’s that or we’ll all be caught.

Antonio and Sam are halfway down this hall, waiting for me, and Sam lets out a choked moan when no one follows.

“He got shot,” I tell her. “We need to get out of here.”

The real question: did they surround the outside of the building in anticipation of escapees?

I pull my gun and check that it’s loaded. I keep it out, pointed at the floor. My finger is straight along the barrel, and it’ll stay there until I see something worth shooting at.

But for now, we’re alone.

We make it to the door that exits into the alley, only to find chains looped around the handles. A fat padlock holds it shut.

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