The silence that followed the total power failure was more deafening than the crashing chandelier. In the absolute pitch of the Great Hall, the only thing I could hear was the frantic thumping of my own heart and the ragged, wet breathing of Silas, just a few feet away.
Then came the vibration. It wasn't the floor this time; it was the air itself.
A rhythmic, heavy thumping began to rattle the reinforced glass of the skylights. Dust shook loose from the rafters, coating my tongue with the taste of ancient stone and gunpowder. I didn't need light to know what it was. A heavy lift transport helicopter was hovering directly above us, its rotors screaming like a dying god.
"Elena?" Silas’s voice was a ghost of itself, cracked and bleeding.
"I'm here," I hissed, crawling toward the sound of
