Countdown

out from between his fingers. I heard Rogan's crowbar make contact with Mac's, a crash of metal against metal, and then a grunt of pain as Rogan managed to clobber Mac. He dragged me behind him as we began to run again as fast as we could, trying to put distance between us and the two injured murderers.

I was shaking with fury. He'd admitted what he'd done so freely, as if he were proud of it.

'I'm sorry that had to happen,' Rogan said, his words pinched.

'Stop apologizing for everything,' I yelled, directing my anger at him instead of the man behind us.

'Here.' He stopped running in front of a door, and I skidded to a halt next to him. The streetlight was angled like a spotlight showing us the way. There was a chain across it, and he whacked it a few times with the crowbar until it broke. He tried the handle and it swung open. 'Let's go inside.'

'I'm sorry I yelled at you.' My cheeks were wet with tears of frustration and rage. I wasn't sad; there was no time for that. I'd finished being sad a long time ago, and now there was only anger left behind.

'How about neither one of us apologizes anymore.' He squeezed my hand. 'At least not to each other, okay?'

I nodded shakily. 'It's a deal.'

We went into the building and he shut the door behind us. Then I felt his arms around me, hugging me against him while I sobbed against his shoulder. He slid his hands through my hair.

'I'm right here with you. I'm not going anywhere.'

I finally stopped crying and nodded against his shoulder. There wasn't much light inside, only some from a bare bulb dangling from the ceiling, but it was enough to see we were in a small foyer that led to a staircase. Rogan moved toward the door and slid the lock across about two seconds before there was a loud, resounding bang on it from the other side.

'We know you're in there!' Mac yelled.

Bang.

'Come out, you little bitch!' Kurtis bellowed louder, but there was a tense, pained quality to his voice. Getting a bullet in the shoulder would do that.

I exchanged a look with Rogan.

'He doesn't sound too happy,' Rogan said.

I swallowed and tried to force myself to calm down, to breathe slower, or I was going to hyperventilate. 'He killed my family.'

Rogan nodded grimly. 'I'm so sorry, Kira.' He closed the distance between us again and touched my face gently. 'I wish I could take your pain away.'

I looked up into his eyes. 'Right back at you.'

There was a creak as the door gave a little with the last pounding.

'We'd better move,' Rogan suggested firmly.

'And where do you suggest we go?'

He eyed the stairs. 'Looks like we only have two options: through those assholes out there, or up the stairs.'

'Not much of a choice.'

'I know.'

I swallowed. 'I vote stairs.'

'Good choice.'

Rogan started taking the stairs two at a time until he remembered that I was hobbling around on an injured ankle and he thundered back down to my side. He put an arm around my waist and helped support me as we went up flight after flight of stairs. I was in pretty good shape, but by the time we got to the top of twenty-five flights, I was panting, my heart slamming inside my chest.

Rogan pushed open the door at the top and we burst out onto the roof. I sucked in fresh air until I got my breath back. He ran over to the side and looked over.

'There's a fire escape over here. I think we can climb down.'

'Seven minutes remain in this level of The Countdown,' the announcer said loud and clear in my head.

'What are we going to do then?' I asked him. 'We can run, but isn't the whole point of this level for only one team to survive?'

'That's true,' Rogan said. 'But you did shoot Kurtis already. And I hit Mac really hard. You don't suppose that counts, do you?'

'No.' Mac emerged from the roof door. Kurtis limped behind him, still holding his hand against his shoulder. He glared at me from a very pale face. 'It sure as hell doesn't.'

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Mac was bleeding from his temple, but he still held the crowbar in his right hand.

'Five minutes remain in this level of The Countdown,' the announcer said loud and clear in my head.

'How time flies when you're having fun,' Kurtis said, although the sound of his voice, raspy and out of breath, didn't really fit the words. He clutched his left shoulder, dark red and shiny with blood from the bullet wound.

He noticed where I was looking. 'You got me good, bitch. Are you proud of yourself?' He took a few steps closer to me. Rogan cut him off and stepped in front of me.

'Back off.' He raised the crowbar defensively.

Kurtis managed a shallow laugh. 'Never pegged you for the knight-in-shining-armor type, Rogan. Is she that good in bed?'

'I'm warning you.'

'You're dead, rich boy.'

Rogan's eyes narrowed. 'You first.'

Kurtis smirked at him through his obvious pain. 'Nah. You first.'

I saw the swing of the crowbar out of the corner of my eye as it came toward Rogan's head. He saw it at the last moment and was able to turn away from Kurtis, blocking the death blow from Mac with his own crowbar. The metal crashed together with a deafening sound.

Mac's fist made full contact with Rogan's jaw, and he went sprawling to the other side of the roof, the makeshift weapon knocked out of his hand. He got to his feet quickly and stormed at Mac, grabbing hold of the other man's black shirt.

My attention was now on Kurtis, who moved toward me slowly, his eyes never leaving my face.

'Hey, bitch,' he snarled. 'You don't have any weapons now, do you?'

I hadn't even realized I was backing away from him until my legs hit the side of the roof.

'Three minutes remain in this level of The Countdown.'

He pulled his hand away from his shoulder long enough to crack his knuckles. 'I've killed many people with my bare hands. I'll even tell you how I'll do you. I'm going to put my hands around your neck and I'm going to squeeze until I hear something pop. And then I'll keep squeezing until your tongue rolls out of your mouth, until your eyes bug out from your face and you go limp. Then I'm going to throw you off this roof and watch as your pretty red guts smear the pavement down there.'

I felt the cold brick against my hands. The edge came up to the backs of my thighs. 'Were you serious when you said that you killed my parents?' I blinked back tears. 'Or were you told to tell me that to get a reaction for the cameras?'

He smirked. 'Don't you believe me?'

'I don't know what to believe anymore.'

He grabbed my hand in his. 'I'll do you a favor before I kill you, bitch.' He thrust my hand against his neck. 'If you're really a psi, why don't you give me a read?' He laughed. 'Take a look at my soul and you tell me if I did it or not.'