CASE BACKED AWAY, shaking her head. “No. No, no, no.”
Morrigan kept walking towards her, her stiletto heels clicking on the marble floor. She smiled with narrowed eyes. “Ah, my dear. I had so hoped we’d meet again.” Like their first meeting, she was all in green. Tight slacks and a low-cut, silk blouse, cape thrown back over her shoulders. Behind her, Stayne and Stryke grinned like ghoulish Cheshire Cats. Stryke pulled a slingshot from his long coat. Gleaming blades slid into Stayne’s gloved hands.
Run!
Run!Her Voice had returned. Too little, too late.
Nowhere to run, she shot back, but she kept retreating from the advancing figures.
Nowhere to runThe elevators.
The elevators.Maybe. The one she’d taken might still be on this level. But then she looked at Fader, holding Morrigan’s han
