Still, if he hadn't bled to death by now, he probably wasn't in danger of doing so within the next five minutes.
His eyes started to close again. She touched his cheek gently. "Gabriel, stay awake. Stay alert. Orrin's on his way. Wait till he has checked this room, then get up and run."
If you can. He showed no sign of real understanding. She bit her lip, rose and walked across to the internal door. It led into another office. She slipped inside.
Outside the factory, lightning flashed, something she heard and felt rather than saw. Energy crawled across her skin. Stephan was closing in. So was Orrin. His lumbering steps reverberated through her brain, as sharp as the evil that stung the stale air.
This room also had two doors. She took the left, simply because Orrin approached the other. It led into another corridor. She turned right. The back door had to be down here, somewhere. If she could find it and open it, Briggs, King and Francis might be able to help her take out Orrin before Rose woke up to the fact that something was wrong.
She came to another door and opened it to find another set of stairs, this one leading down into a wide dark room. A roller door dominated the wall opposite. A smaller door was beside it, padlocked and bolted from the inside rather than the outside. Briggs had no chance of getting in without blasting her way in and telling the world of her presence in the process.
In the hallway behind her, a door opened. It wasn't so much the sound she heard as the stale air stirring. Orrin hunted.
She descended the stairs and ran to the outer door. The sparks dancing across her fingertips leapt to the padlock the minute she picked it up. Within seconds, it was dust.
If she'd had the time to be frightened about this new ability, she would have been. But right now, Gabriel's safety mattered more than anything else, including her fear.
She pulled open the bottom deadbolt and reached for the top lock. But it was too high, and she couldn't get anywhere near it. Cursing, she swung round, looking for something to stand on.
And saw the door near the top of the stairs open.
Chapter Sixteen
Scent stirred him. Sam's scent. Vanilla and cinnamon, such a warm and enticing mix. Like her. He opened his eyes, blinking several times before his vision swam into focus.
He was still in the office, still on the floor. His arm was numb. That numbness didn't extend to his back — it felt as if every muscle was being torn apart. Even the mere act of blinking made his gut churn uneasily.
Sam wasn't in the room. But she had been, otherwise he wouldn't have smelled her.
Or was it merely wishful thinking?
No, he could feel her closeness, as surely as he could his heart. And she'd left him a laser. It clung like a limpet to his palm.
Where had she gone? And why?
Rose, he thought. She was hunting down Rose. He had to find them — help if he could.
He rolled onto his back, and a dozen fresh aches assaulted his body. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down the side of his face. For an instant, darkness loomed. He would have welcomed the fall back to unconsciousness except for the sudden realization that if Sam was here, she would need his help. She couldn't cope with the likes of Rose by herself.
He grabbed the edge of the desk with his good hand and, gritting his teeth, slowly, carefully, eased himself upright. His legs wouldn't take his weight and buckled beneath him. His knees hit the floor, his back scraping against the desk as he fell sideways. A scream tore up his throat, but it came out as little more than a sharp hiss.
When the room stopped spinning, he tried again. This time he made it. He wiped the sweat from his eyes, then staggered across to the door, where he stood, trembling like a newborn just learning to walk.
The door opened into a corridor. Two doors to choose from — the right one closer. He didn't have much strength left, and he didn't know how much longer he could keep going. Headed right.
The door led into a deeper darkness, and he had the feeling of a vast emptiness. There were no sounds beyond the creak of loose roofing. He stepped out. Overhead, lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the room. He was in a factory of some kind. There were stairs directly in front of him, leading up.
He staggered across the emptiness and grabbed the banister — had to, because otherwise he would have fallen. His heart felt like it was ready to tear out of his chest, and the darkness whirled around him. He took several deep breaths and slowly, carefully began to climb.
Footsteps whispered across the night. He stopped, listening. They were coming to the top of the stairs and heading directly toward him. It wasn't Sam. He would have known if it were. Probably Rose.
He held his ground, simply because he had no other choice. He couldn't move with any sort of speed, and Rose would hear him if he tried. Better to remain where he was and hope for the element of surprise.
He clenched his fingers around the laser and waited. The steps drew close, a tattooed beat of violence that ricocheted across the night.
Rose appeared on the top step. She began to descend and then stopped abruptly. There was a click and light flooded across his face, momentarily blinding him.
"Well, well. Here I am expecting an intruder, and I find you instead. How did you escape the ropes?"