“Agent Morris,” he introduced himself in a whisper. “Professional film analyst and jailbreak consultant, at your service.”
Stepping into the corridor, Aaron shot me a “who the hell is this guy and what the hell is going on?” look. All I could do was shake my head.
Kai, like Aaron, was sitting miserably on his bunk, and reacted with similar shock when we appeared in front of his cell. We repeated the shushing and door unlocking process, and in moments, Kai was free too.
I grabbed both mages’ hands, squeezing hard and unreasonably moved by the feel of their warm, strong fingers gripping mine. Kai wore a jumpsuit too, and I was sad to see that not even the super-stud electramage could make prison garb look good.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Now we need to find Ezra and Darius.”
“My partner is taking care of them.” Kit scowled like he’d been cheated out of his life savings. “My first chance to actually see the containment floor, but noooo, Lienna has to do it.”
“The containment floor?” I repeated. “What’s that?”
“No idea, but it’s where they locked up your demon mage friend. Which, by the way, is both cool and terrifying. You’re really friends with a demon mage?”
“He isn’t a demon mage.”
Eyebrows quirking skeptically, he faced the security doors. We’d have to pass three occupied cells to get to the exit, and if another prisoner saw us, they could ruin our escape.
“Let’s see …” Kit murmured. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Ah, I know.”
I blinked at his back. A moment later, a frightened gasp echoed from one of the cells. Someone else squealed like a kid.
Waving at us to follow, Kit strolled down the corridor toward the doors. I followed him, glancing nervously at the nearest cell. Inside, a dimly lit man with thick arms and a greasy beard was halfway through scrambling up the side of his bunk bed like a scared monkey. He didn’t notice us pass.
The next cell’s inmate was staring at the floor with wide eyes, utterly fixated on the plain concrete. The third prisoner was hiding under his blanket, quivering.
What. The. Hell.
Kit tapped his security pass against the panel, then led us through the doors and up the stairs to the main level. He stopped on the landing and turned, surveying us critically.
“We’re heading for the back door,” he revealed. “All you have to do is follow me and I’ll handle the rest.”
Instant suspicion stiffened my back. “You want us to just walk out there?”
“Is this a stupid scheme to pin extra charges on us?” Aaron growled.
“Damn, you guessed it. The entire precinct got together and decided you three needed even more charges, even though you already have enough for several life sentences each.” He sighed at our blank expressions. “That was a joke. Follow me.”
Without waiting for us to argue, he opened the stairwell door and entered a hallway. Casual as could be, he ambled to the end, where he had two options: continue into the bullpen—visible through the door’s small window—or turn left, which would lead us back to the comparatively safe lobby.
Kit put his hand on the bullpen door. “Oh, and if you see anything strange, just ignore it and stick with me.”
“What do you mean by—”
He swung the door open and walked into the bullpen full of agents.
Gulping, I pushed my shoulders back and strode out after him. There was a slight chance I could slip through unnoticed since I was dressed more or less normally, but Aaron and Kai were wearing jumpsuits. No way the agents would ignore them.
We were three steps into the bullpen, its two dozen occupants beginning to glance our way, when a loud popping sound erupted.
A computer burst into flame.
Agents shouted and leaped to their feet as the guy sitting at the desk shoved back so hard his chair toppled over. Flames writhed, crackling merrily, and smoke billowed toward the ceiling.
Kit kept walking, circling wide around the desks. Every agent was focused on the fire—except for a nearby woman whose head spun toward us.
The burning computer exploded, grabbing her attention. Bits of flaming debris flew into the air, and people screamed. A man ran up with a fire extinguisher.
“Wait, no—” the owner of the desk exclaimed.
Wannabe Fireman blasted the extinguisher’s white spray all over the desk. The monitor flipped over backward, papers flying everywhere. The flames rippled wildly but didn’t go out.
“No!” the desk’s owner bellowed. “Stop! Stop, damn it!”
Kit cackled under his breath as he opened the bullpen’s back door. “After you.”
I rushed through, Aaron and Kai right behind me, and as Kit stepped through last, the desk’s owner shouted furiously, “It isn’t real fire, you idiots! Where’s Kit? Kiiiit!”
Snorting back laughter, Kit gestured at us to keep going. I shot him a wide-eyed look, then hastened down the hall. An emergency exit waited at the end, and I shoved through it.
We exited onto a quiet street illuminated by the orange glow of streetlamps, a few cars parked along the curb. I immediately understood why Kit had taken us out this way. If we’d fled through the lobby, we would’ve come out in the enclosed parking lot, which had no escape except the covered tunnel thing. Here, we could run in any direction.
“Thatta way,” Kit instructed, pointing at an alley across the street.
Painfully aware of Aaron and Kai’s prison garb, I trotted out into the road. The guys followed me, Kit bringing up the rear.
Just inside the alley, a black sedan idled with its taillights glowing. For a second, I thought it was a Miura vehicle and Makiko was here to provide another getaway car. But the person leaning against the driver’s door was not the petite aeromage.
Zak looked over at the sound of our footsteps, his hood pulled up but his face illuminated by the cell phone he held. He slid it into his pocket and pushed off the vehicle.
I had about two seconds to panic over
