I put a hand on his chest. “I’ll take care of myself.”
“Oh, I know you will,” he said, and pressed his lips to my forehead. “Because if you don’t, you and Morgan will both have to answer to me.”
We met in the lobby, each group standing together in its own cluster, Morgan standing alone.
“Brody’s outside with the SUV,” Luc said. “Ethan, Morgan, Merit, and I will ride together. Detective Jacobs and the Ombuds’ folks will follow in the van.” He glanced at me. “You’ve got the earbud, and we’ll communicate that way. We’ll also want to track your location.”
“They’ll take any electronics,” Jeff said. “So we can’t track her with GPS.”
“What about my raven bracelet?” I asked, lifting my wrist and glancing at Catcher. “If I wear it, could Mallory use that to find me?”
He considered. “Actually, yeah. She could.”
“Get her,” Ethan said. “And get her on it.”
Catcher nodded, ran for the stairs.
I glanced at Luc. “Has Juliet found Balthasar yet?”
“No visual confirmation. We’ll let you know if we find him.”
Morgan looked alarmed. “Balthasar? What’s he got to do with this?”
“We don’t know,” Luc said. “Possibly nothing. But keep your guard up.” He looked us over, the jeans-clad man, the leather-clad woman, going into battle without so much as a dagger.
“Your instincts are going to be your best defense here. We’ve got the chopper on call to get you out, but if there’s any delay in finding you, you’ll have to keep yourselves alive.”
“That’s on me,” Morgan said, looking at me. “She’s my responsibility, and I accept and acknowledge it.”
“And when you return?” Ethan prompted.
“Then we’ll settle our accounts.”
Chapter Nineteen
FLIGHT OF FANCY
Ethan and Luc escorted us into the building, past the empty security desk, and toward the elevators, where Luc selected the top floor.
“Any questions?” Luc asked.
“Not from me.” I looked at Morgan. “Anything else you’d like to say before we do this?”
Morgan shook his head.
“In that case,” Luc said, “be careful.” He looked at me. “Remember your training, keep your stance strong, and don’t be afraid to kick ’em in the balls.”
Luc obviously favored a sentimental motivational speech.
The elevators opened to a tile-floored foyer and glass doors that led to the helipad outside. The helicopter was waiting for us, a sleek white oval with orange stripes, its blades already thushing, the door open, a big man in black fatigues standing outside, waiting for us to enter.
My heart began to thud with nerves, excitement, the likelihood of battle, the possibility of loss.
Ethan slipped a hand around my neck, pulled me forward, pressed a hard and possessive kiss to my lips that nearly left me breathless in a completely different way. Be careful, he said silently.
I will. Keep that helicopter ready.
He drew back, and I put a hand on his face, took a long look at him, committed his features, his mouth, his eyes, to memory.