Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-seven
brYCE
At any other time, Bryce would have been impressed by the grand building that housed the National Council. But not now, with Tom’s life on the line.
Their security check at the door was fleeting—apparently being guests of Councilor Bennett was enough of a guarantee—and the instant they were through, Bryce strode to the nearest reception desk and demanded to know where Tom Barrington’s office was.
“Barrington, Barrington,” the man muttered while looking him up in the internal directory. “Why do I know that name?”
Bryce darted impatient glances around the huge hall, with its colonnades and grand staircase, and fought not to punch the guy out and just read the directory himself because he’d never known anyone so damn slow.
“Oh, that’s why—someone called with a message for him earlier, so I shot him an email. Works down in the bookstacks, office C216.”
“How do I find it?” Bryce somehow managed to stay civil.
“Well, you go along the corridor there to the back stairs, and then down, turn right, left, then left again and it’s the third office—holy mother of God, would you look at that?”
Bryce turned to follow his stunned gaze.
Matt and Jesse were emerging from the bathroom they’d disappeared into so that Jesse could shift in privacy.
The washroom door was next to a tall window, which meant that the sun’s rays were falling onto Jesse, causing his coat to glow silver.
It was a pale imitation of the beauty of his fur under moonlight, but it was still unearthly.
The guy behind the desk wasn’t the only one to notice—a woman cried out in shock, causing people to turn and look. Within seconds a deathly silence had fallen over the busy hall.
No matter how badly Bryce wanted to witness the casual way Matt and Jesse strolled across the hall, taking no notice of the stricken crowd, he didn’t have time. He had to find Tom. He took off at a run along the corridor that led to the basement stairs.
Whoever had built this place must have spent all their money on that impressive grand hallway, because it felt like he was heading down to servants’ quarters.
The staircase was narrow and steep, with buzzing fluorescent lamps overhead.
It wasn’t exactly inviting, and it got even worse when he reached the maze of corridors that looked like something out of every horror movie Tristan had forced him to sit through—for such a sweet-natured kid, he had an unholy love for the things.
Fluorescent lamps cast pools of harsh light that weren’t strong enough to reach every dark corner. Any one of those shadows could be harboring an ax murderer. Or a member of the Council security detail. Panic knotted Bryce’s gut as he followed the receptionist’s directions.
The further into the rabbit warren he penetrated, the more wrong it felt.
Maybe it was because the few offices were empty, their occupants doing whatever people who worked here did all day, or maybe there was another reason, like the one he was sensing around the corner ahead—people moving quietly, trying to pass unnoticed.
He stopped and listened to the sounds ahead of him. Their breathing was uneven, the result either of adrenaline or exertion. And neither of those things could mean anything good, because if the receptionist’s directions had been right, around the next corner lay Tom’s office.
Inching forward, he peered around the corner. About twenty yards away, right by the corridor leading to Tom’s office, two male shifters were communicating by hand signals, indicating their intention to move forward.
Bryce had to act—there was no time for a plan, no time for anything except to stop them. With both of them wearing thigh holsters, he could only think of one way to do that.
He strode around the corner with no attempt to be quiet and stopped when he saw them. “Oh, thank God I finally found someone!” He grinned widely in relief. “I was beginning to think I’d taken a wrong turn and the bathroom isn’t down here after all.”
They’d spun around at his approach, one of them reaching immediately for his gun, only for the older one to place a restraining hand on his arm.
The suspicion and hostility on both faces morphed almost instantly into identical expressions of contempt and annoyance at the visitor’s pass he wore and the good-natured smile on his face.
“Can you guys help me find a bathroom?” Bryce asked. “I have this irritable bowel syndrome—”
“You’re not supposed to be down here, sir,” the younger one said, coming forward toward him.
“Well, I was kind of getting that feeling from the fact no one else is here,” Bryce confessed. “But if the two of you could just see your way to setting me straight….”
“You need to go back up—”
“Son, I have no idea where I’ve been these past thirty minutes. You’re going to have to show me.”
And so Bryce was escorted toward the stairs he’d come down just moments earlier.
Both of them accompanied him, to his relief.
While he had no doubt about Tom’s abilities in a fight, they were armed, and he suspected Tom wouldn’t be carrying.
He hadn’t been when out at the ranch, and Bryce would know, having conducted more than one very extensive body search.
Of course, it was always possible Tom had never even been in his office. But Bryce’s wolf knew differently. His mate was down here and in danger.
As they walked him away, Bryce dared one last look down the corridor. The shadows swallowed everything past the bend. And Tom was somewhere in that dark.
TOM
Tom could hear them. More than one, though he couldn’t be sure if there were two or three. They were trying to be silent as they waited at the entrance to the cul-de-sac that housed his office.
He refused to be caught like a rat in a trap. He’d take his chances, however dismal, of taking them by surprise.
Easing around the doorjamb, he drew some calming breaths to settle the pounding of his heart and steadied himself to slip as silently as he could along the narrow corridor.
He couldn’t shift, because they’d hear his claws on the linoleum.
He just hoped his body remembered all that stealth training he’d done to qualify for the security detail.
He jumped as a voice boomed through the silence, echoing off the high ceilings. Distorted as it was, he could have sworn it was Bryce. It felt like a warm beacon in the gloom, giving him hope and something to aim for.
There were more voices, then footsteps heading away from him.
He ghosted up the corridor and peered around the corner to see three men walking away, and one of them was Bryce’s tall figure.
The other two were in the fatigues Jax favored and their body language was tight and annoyed as Bryce chatted away about something to do with his bowels.
Behind them, Tom slipped around the corner and turned left, heading deeper into the maze of rooms that used to house books.
The only way out was up the staircase Bryce and the others were heading for, and while part of him couldn’t believe they’d hurt someone who seemed to be an innocent tourist just to stop Tom escaping, he couldn’t risk it.
All it would take would be the claim Bryce had missed his step, fallen down the stairs in the poor lighting, and broken his neck.
He wasn’t risking that. No, Bryce had given him a chance and he’d take it.
He didn’t know what buying time would achieve, but if the choice was dead now or dead in an hour, he’d take the hour. And then there was Bryce. If he was here, it meant his pack knew something was wrong, and maybe they had a plan.
Tom hoped so, because he was out of options.
brYCE
Bryce thanked his guides as they left him at the foot of the staircase. He figured pumping their hands enthusiastically was overkill, but he did it anyway. It might buy Tom an extra few seconds.
Tom would have heard his voice and known something was wrong. Bryce had seen how fast he was to assess threats and to react. He’d have found an exit and be on his way to safety.
He clattered up the stairs as Jax’s men disappeared into the shadows once more, and headed for the first person he saw at the top, who happened to be the janitor with a trolley. “Is there any other way down to the bookstacks? A side exit? Back door?”
The woman looked at him strangely. “Something wrong with the stairs you’re standing next to?”
“I’m doing a security sweep for the Argent’s visit.” His bullshit wouldn’t convince most people, but maybe the mention of an Argent would override everything else.
Her eyes grew wide with excitement. “You’ve met it? What’s it like?”
“Please just answer the question, ma’am.”
“There’s no other stairs,” she said, sounding huffy. “Place was built before half the rules they’ve got now. The old book elevator’s dead, and whatever back exit there used to be got sealed up long before I started.”
Which meant Tom was trapped. Fuck.
Bryce switched his phone to silent. Then he turned and went down into the gloom.