The heavy brass handle kept turning down until it hit the metal frame with a loud, cold click.
Inside the small, dusty room, Damien stepped directly in front of Seraphina. His body was stiff, his feet set wide on the concrete floor, and his gun raised high. His finger rested flat against the side of the trigger guard, ready to pull back the moment the iron door swung open.
"Get behind the desk, Seraphina," Damien ordered in a harsh, quiet whisper. "I am not asking you twice. When that door opens, I will drop him before he takes a step inside."
"No," Seraphina said firmly.
She reached out in the dim light, grabbing Damien’s forearm with both hands and pulling his gun arm down. Her grip was surprisingly strong, her dark eyes flashing with sharp, sudden intelligence.
"Seraphina, move!" D
