Though they weren't in uniform, they might as well have been. They wore similar suits in that same rumpled cop way so many longtime detectives had. I didn't know their names, but I knew these guys. Even their crew cuts were identical.
Raising my hands, I put on a charming smile. "Hey, boys ..." A sudden wind rushed past me. The gale ruffled my blouse and tugged at my hair. Behind me, the emergency lights blew out one by one. Glass showered down, flying toward the detectives. They raised their hands trying to ward off the shattered bulbs.
The instant their guns pointed away from me, I was ready to run. I turned around just in time to see Michael and Morningstar draw their weapons. Michael grabbed for the battered .45 with his right hand, as Morningstar reached for his weapon with his left. Their arms unfurled in perfect unison. They looked like deadly mirror images.
"No!" I screamed.
Explosions ripped through the tiny corridor. Searing heat pierced my shoulder, followed by a scorching pain that seemed to illuminate every nerve ending. Spun around by the momentum of the bullet, I bounced clumsily against the wall. Darkness tickled the edge of my vision. I groped at the wall and fought to remain standing. I clutched my shoulder, trying to staunch the blood flow.
Michael's arms were on my waist, supporting me.
"You've been shot," he whispered.
I pressed my lips together. The silence of the hallway rang in my ears. I turned my head, keeping my cheek to the cool plaster surface of the wall. The two detectives lay on the floor; neither of them moved or made any sound. The dark blue of their suits looked black against the gray tiles. My face contorted to a grimace as I noticed their bodies were sprawled at awkward angles. There was no blood.
"No blood?" I repeated out loud, my voice a harsh whisper. "No blood?"
"Untimely heart attack," Morningstar said, as though pleased.
"You bastard," I murmured, for somehow I sensed Morningstar was to blame for their "heart attacks."
Michael lifted me off my feet and took me into his arms. I groaned as he pried me away from the wall. The steady coolness of the plaster had been my anchor. Without it, I felt dizzy and, seeing the trail of gore I left behind, my stomach lurched again.
Wrapping his arms around me, Michael put a hand over mine where I pressed my shoulder. The coolness of his flesh was comforting and he added needed pressure to the wound. I laid my head against his chest and, despite myself, snuggled deeper into his embrace. Remembering the infrared, I hoped all the heat from the center of his body was enough to keep me from going into shock.
"Deidre?" Michael said softly, rousing me. "Can you tell us how to get out of here?"
I forced my lips into a sneer.
I didn't want to help them. Michael was no better than his Mafioso brother to let those detectives die. "Could have talked our way out."
"It's already done." He glanced over his shoulder at the smirking Morningstar. "The point is moot. If I have anything to say about it, they'll live. You might not. Tell us how to get out of here."
I shook my head.
"Oh, for fuck's sake. Leave her," Morningstar said. "We don't need her to get out of here. You don't need her."
"Deidre," Michael's voice cut through the fog in which my mind floated. His eyes drew me in, holding me firm. His gaze glowed with a deep, fearsome fire that seemed to reach out and physically warm me. Enveloped in heat, I floated, tied to reality only by those unearthly gray eyes. The cops survived. Somehow I knew what Michael said was true.
"Locker room," I said finally, my confidence in Michael renewed. "Through the office to the locker room. It leads to a parking lot. But, I wanted ... I wanted to get files ... Jordan ..."
"There's no time." Michael's breath tickled at my ear, and I shivered.
"Very nice," Morningstar said warmly, as Michael started down the hall. "I feel you stepping just that much closer to me, dear brother."
"It was necessary," Michael said.
"It's also distinctly against the rules. And, here I thought you were so very 'by the book.' After all, you're always so careful to use doors and cars and all these earthly crutches. WE could just leave, you know. Speed would save her."
"I will not cheat, simply because it is easier. That's your way, not mine."
"Is it?" Morningstar said. "You're willing to ask me for a miracle you won't do for yourself. How is that different besides being more cowardly?"
Michael said nothing as they walked on. Each step he took jarred me painfully where I was cradled against his shoulders. I shut my eyes. Fighting to remain conscious, I concentrated on the sound of their voices. I could hear the click of Morningstar's steps fall into rhythm with Michael's.
"You have forgotten the rules, haven't you?" Morningstar's voice was swelled with glee. "Or are you willfully ignoring them?"
Michael's grip tightened around my shoulders. He said nothing for a long moment. I must have drifted out of consciousness because the next thing I knew Michael was trying to rouse me. "Deidre?"