Page 32 of Fanged Embrace
While the four figures on screen got moving down the hall, I pored over the control panel, blinking buttons stretched out across the desk in front of me, and fiddled around until I found the right switch. I kept one eye on the swarm of security personnel heading toward River and her posse—and flipped it.
A moment later the whole building was plunged into darkness.
In front of me, every monitor flared bright then went black, and the camera feeds switched over to night vision. My stomachtightened—this was a gamble. River was a vampire, so I knew she could see just fine in the dark, but I wasn’t sure about the others. But then again, that blond boy seemed perfectly capable of kicking ass, considering the state he’d left the guard in, so maybe they were all filthy bloodsuckers and I was an idiot for worrying.
In any case, the darkness was a decent distraction.
For about five glorious seconds the guards froze on the cameras, confused and disoriented. Their shapes showed up in blurry outlines on the night vision feed, flailing around as they tried to get their bearings. I glanced over at River’s group; they darted forward, hugging the left wall, heading deeper into the maze of corridors.
They had a real shot to slip away now—at least, until beams of light sliced through the darkness.
“Well shit.” I whacked a fist on the control panel. Of course they’d have flashlights.
The guards re-formed, merging into a tight, methodical line, scanning every inch of the corridor with those bright, searching beams.
River and the others picked up speed, rounding a corner that, to my dismay, opened onto an abandoned storage space with nowhere else to go. On the monitor I could see it clearly—a dead end. They’d made a wrong turn.
For reasons beyond my comprehension, the other two women in River’s group thought this was an excellent time to start an argument—pink dress versus business suit, both looking highly offended in fuzzy night vision. I watched them bicker, stamping feet and wild gestures included, while doom literally crept closer.
My eyebrows hit my hairline as I fumbled with the intercom controls and leaned toward the mic, hissing out instructions I hoped they would heed. “Quit the catfight and go back the way you came! There’s an exit to your right.”
However, in the grand tradition of my luck, I was about half a second too slow. The guards had already cornered them, flashlights dancing over the walls, until one beam snagged on River herself.
I had a front-row seat to her doing a slow, menacing turn, eyes gleaming bright like fireworks in the dark. That’s never the look you want to see a vampire wearing. Even through the grainy screen, the feral spark in her gaze was terrifying.
I sprang to my feet, pressing close to the screens, pulse hammering so hard it was deafening. Through the flickering beams I saw River’s stance go rigid, poised to spring. She was going to stand her ground.
But she had no idea what she was up against. Those guards were armed, and I recognized the weaponry. Those weren’t standard-issue firearms or run-of-the-mill security gear. It was the kind of hardware that, if pointed at a vampire, meant no more vampire.
So, in my never-ending quest to do extremely unwise things, I scanned the console for one last trick. My frantic gaze landed on the emergency alarm panel. Throwing all caution to the wind, I slammed my hand down on the bright red button, and an ear-splitting wail exploded through every speaker in the complex.
In an instant, the warehouse was drenched in crimson light. Sirens blared, echoing off the steel and concrete, and I could see on the night-vision feed how the guards flinched—and how River seized the opportunity. Her shape blurred as she lunged, and the scene lit up with muzzle flashes.
Gunfire erupted from the guard line, deafening booms that rattled through the building and sent my nerves into spasms. I knew too well that bullets like those could rip even the strongest of her kind apart. My knees turned weak at the thought of her going down in a hail of gunfire.
But a new dread ripped me out of my horrified trance: they’d be coming for me next.
If these guards had any inkling I was in the control room—and they certainly did now—then I was a sitting duck. I stumbled away from the console, throwing a wild final glance at the chaos on screen.
River was a blur of motion and she wasn’t beat yet, but there were too many guards. Too many weapons pointed her way. I tore my eyes away and my pulse thundered in my ears as I pushed the door open and bolted into the hallway.
The wailing alarm and flashing red lights seized me immediately.
A rush of heat blossomed across my cheeks, followed by a chill that crawled all the way up my spine. My vision blurred at the edges, and my lungs refused to pull in air. I couldn’t draw a full breath. Panic hit me like a physical force, another senseless stampede.
Too loud. Too bright. Can’t breathe.
“No,” I hiccupped, as my vision threatened to narrow. “Come on, not again. Not now.”
It was a mantra I had repeated a thousand times before, but it rarely did me any good. I pressed shaking palms to the wall. My knees nearly gave out, so I braced my full weight against it, hoping the concrete would kindly stop spinning.
The red lights kept pulsing, strobing in time with my racing heartbeat, each flash dredging up another unwanted image from a life I’d left behind.
A high, keening sound slipped from my throat—some small, desperate noise that barely registered in the cacophony. I forced my eyes shut, pinned myself to the sensation of the cool wall under my palms.
“Breathe,” I ordered myself. But that was easier said than done. Still, I managed a few ragged inhales and allowed myselfexactly five seconds of meltdown, then peeled myself off the wall.
I dragged myself along, step by shaky step.
