“I might just be.” I stepped over Harris’s prone form and into the bedroom, and Milligan still didn’t fire. Because unlike his partner, he wasn’t an idiot. “I’m guessing we have about five minutes before building security gets here. I can tie you up or shoot you. Your call.”

“Kori, stop!” he shouted as I bent over the nightstand and ripped the phone cord from the wall. “Don’t make me shoot you!”

“Holt isn’t here, and if you shoot me, you’ll never find him.” I glanced at him over my shoulder and shoved the nightstand back into place. “Tower’s already gonna be pissed at me, but if you go back without Holt, you’ll be on his shit list, too.” I held up the cord in one hand, Harris’s gun in the other, as Milligan considered, his aim steady. “But if you give me your gun, I’ll take you someplace safe and you can start running. That’s the only shot you have now.”

“Where’s Holt?”

I leaned against the glass-topped desk and glanced at the alarm clock next to the bed. “Tick tock, Milligan.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, sweat beading on his forehead. He exhaled slowly and held my gaze. “Just give Tower what he wants, and we’ll all walk away from this intact.”

“Intact?” I grabbed the desk lamp and hurled it past his head and he flinched when it smashed against the wall at his back. “Do I sound intact to you? Did you miss the part where Jake tried to drive me insane with solitude and torture? Or maybe you missed the part where it fuckin’ worked! Shoot me!” I shouted, advancing on him with my arms spread, gun held loosely in my right hand, my head throbbing so badly my vision was starting to blur.

Milligan lifted the gun again, aiming at my chest, but his finger wasn’t even on the trigger. He knew what would happen if he killed me without finding out where Ian was.

“Shoot me, you fucking coward!”

“Take me to him,” Milligan said, like we were bargaining. “Just take me to him, and you can go. I won’t try to stop you.”

I rolled my eyes and reached for his gun, and his finger finally found the trigger. “If you’re going to shoot me do it. Otherwise, hand the damn thing over.”

Milligan frowned, and I read determination in his eyes an instant before he lowered his gun, aiming for my leg. I threw a fist up and out, knocking his arm to the side. His shot went wild. The bullet tore a chunk of wood from the headboard to my left.

I slammed his gun arm into the edge of the desk as hard as I could. Bone crunched, and Milligan howled. He dropped his gun and I picked it up while he clutched his fractured arm to his chest.

“Kori…” he mumbled, as footsteps thundered toward us from the hall outside the front door.

“Did you watch?” I aimed both guns at his chest, but he only shook his head, not in answer, but in refusal to respond. “Did you fucking watch!” I demanded as the first fist pounded on the door to Ian’s suite.

“Mr. Holt? Are you okay in there?” some hotel employee called from the hall. “We heard gunfire! The police are on their way!”

“Not for sport, Kori, I swear,” Milligan said. “I was working. It made me sick, I swear on my life!”

“Good.” I shot him in the left shoulder with Harris’s gun and in the right with his own. “That’s why you’re still alive.”

Milligan stumbled back into the desk, sucking in deep breaths, face already pale from shock. I staggered on my feet as the pain in my head echoed deep in my stomach, and my hands started to shake. Then I pulled in a deep breath and stepped past him and into the bathroom, as something slammed into the front door. Security was trying to break it down.

Harris’s feet were blocking the bathroom door, so I had to shove him over to make it close. Armed and surrounded by true darkness, I sucked in one deep, calming breath, trying to get a handle on the agony my body had become. Then, as wood splintered and the front door gave way, I stepped over Harris’s body and out through the darkness.

Twenty-Six

Ian

When Kori was gone, her sister glared into the dark bedroom at me, though I was pretty sure she couldn’t actually see me. And for just a moment, the opportunity I was passing up made my head hurt and my fingers itch for action. I was alone with Kenley Daniels. I could kill her in seconds, and my brother’s body would stop shutting itself down and finally start to heal.

As a bonus, I’d be permanently crippling Tower’s empire. He’d never find another Binder as strong as Kenley, and with her blood no longer flowing, actively reinforcing the bindings she’d sealed for him, most of them would break. Flesh marks would die. People would go free.

That was the very least he deserved, for what he’d done to Kori.

But if I killed Kenley, I wouldn’t just be crippling one monster—Tower—I’d be creating another one. Myself. And Kori would never forgive me.

Before I could master my thoughts enough to speak, Kenley stomped out of sight and I followed her through the tiny square of hallway, across a small living area and into the kitchen, where she waved one hand at a bar stool across the counter. I sat, and she watched me, assessing me, like I was an obstacle to be overcome. Though she probably had no idea how close to right she was.

“Coffee?” she said at last, and I nodded. Kenley opened a drawer and pulled out both a bag of coffee grounds and the cutest little .22 pistol, then set them side by side on the counter. “I don’t trust you.”