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Adam had to get to Iris before Lawrence did.
He wriggled from beneath Danny (unconscious, possibly dead) and staggered toward the altar. Lying on her belly, Iris had pulled on her handcuffs relentlessly, wrists weeping blood into the pink fuzz. Adam watched as blue light crackled around the cuffs. Iris gasped and jerked her hands higher, but the light shimmered and spread in a broad pool around her. It spilled over the altar and onto the ground, stopping at the bare earth edge. It nearly took his breath away when Adam stepped on the charred dirt and into the light.
“Any ideas?” he asked, leaning against the altar, skin tingling.
Iris’s mouth trembled, but her voice was strong as she asked, “The number Danny gave you, was it a three?”
Adam couldn’t make sense of the question, sudden
