wavered and rocked as he threaded past the row of delivery vehicles and slammed his foot down harder on the accelerator. “Come on.”
They wouldn’t get there in time. With the doors barely wide enough to walk through, he banked hard to the side and slammed on the brakes. Air whooshed around them as the hover engines strained.
They slid into the closed bay door with a thunk.
More pinging and shouting slammed through the enclosed cab. Harp glanced out the window. Ochre, his guards, and the garage workers all rushed toward them. His hands fisted, Ochre scowled at Harp.
Harp gunned it, whipping around and toward the nearest exit.
“Harp.” Jaq braced herself on the dash. “You’re heading straight for a wall.”
“When I stop, jump out and run.”
“Right with you.” Her voice didn’t waver or show any fear, though his escape route had closed.
He slammed his hand on the door pad at the same time as he shoved down on the brake. The air from the hover engine warmed the cab as he came to a stop a few feet from the door. “Run.”
They clamored from the craft and bolted toward the exit.
“Shoot them,” Ochre roared behind them.
Putting himself behind Jaq, he herded her back down the hallway.
She looked over her shoulder with a determined gleam. “We have to go back out the way I came. The beanstalk.”
He still didn’t know exactly what that meant, but he trusted her—and Bovine’s tech gadgets—as she ran full tilt through the hallway into the main area of the mansion.
Jaq slipped on the highly shined, waxy tile of the great room, falling hard.
With a twinge in his chest from his bruises, he gripped her elbow and pulled her up. He ground his teeth. They had to keep moving. Throwing her arm around his shoulder, he half carried her across the slick marble floor of the grand foyer. A few of the household staff scurried behind the nearest piece of furniture.
Crack.
The marble splintered at their feet. Dust flew in the air.
A shard dug into his arm.
Jaq grunted. She collapsed against him and nearly carried him to the floor. With all his effort, he ignored the burning in his torso and muscled her onto her feet.
Jaq leaned against him and swiped at the tear in her jeans where her pale skin shone, marred with the bloody cut. A tile shard had scraped her leg in a nasty gash, but thank all that was right in this world, she hadn’t been shot.
“Got it. Let’s go.” Her voice came strained, a heavier burden than anything he’d lived through before in his life.
“Hold on, love.”
They limped along as fast as they could down the hallway toward the banquet kitchen.
The guards and Ochre couldn’t see them now, but they’d only have a few seconds of confusion before they were on their trail again.
Entering the kitchen, he breathed a sigh of relief. Too soon. A burly guard stepped into their path. “Hold it right there.”
Harp drew up short, calculating the best way around the behemoth who snarled at them like a dog. He clenched and unclenched his fists, clearly looking for a fight instead of gunning them down. In his condition, Harp couldn’t take him on. Not and get away before the ones behind had caught up.
His heart sank to his stomach. They had to get out, but he was too spent to get them out of this. The data in his back pocket would stop what was coming, a viral outbreak with Giant Corp holding the only cure—for a steep price. And they had the only proof to stop it. Harp swallowed hard and got ready to get pummeled.
The man didn’t bother to watch Jaq as she pulled away. Harp swayed and sidestepped a meaty fist. Harp swung about, landing a solid punch to the man’s gut. The guard bent with the force of the blow, exposing his gun in a shoulder holster as his jacket opened. Harp reached for it.
The guard stepped back and angled away. Harp’s fingers brushed the grip, but slipped. He dove after him, but the guard swung again, hitting him square in the chest.
Harp’s injured
They wouldn’t get there in time. With the doors barely wide enough to walk through, he banked hard to the side and slammed on the brakes. Air whooshed around them as the hover engines strained.
They slid into the closed bay door with a thunk.
More pinging and shouting slammed through the enclosed cab. Harp glanced out the window. Ochre, his guards, and the garage workers all rushed toward them. His hands fisted, Ochre scowled at Harp.
Harp gunned it, whipping around and toward the nearest exit.
“Harp.” Jaq braced herself on the dash. “You’re heading straight for a wall.”
“When I stop, jump out and run.”
“Right with you.” Her voice didn’t waver or show any fear, though his escape route had closed.
He slammed his hand on the door pad at the same time as he shoved down on the brake. The air from the hover engine warmed the cab as he came to a stop a few feet from the door. “Run.”
They clamored from the craft and bolted toward the exit.
“Shoot them,” Ochre roared behind them.
Putting himself behind Jaq, he herded her back down the hallway.
She looked over her shoulder with a determined gleam. “We have to go back out the way I came. The beanstalk.”
He still didn’t know exactly what that meant, but he trusted her—and Bovine’s tech gadgets—as she ran full tilt through the hallway into the main area of the mansion.
Jaq slipped on the highly shined, waxy tile of the great room, falling hard.
With a twinge in his chest from his bruises, he gripped her elbow and pulled her up. He ground his teeth. They had to keep moving. Throwing her arm around his shoulder, he half carried her across the slick marble floor of the grand foyer. A few of the household staff scurried behind the nearest piece of furniture.
Crack.
The marble splintered at their feet. Dust flew in the air.
A shard dug into his arm.
Jaq grunted. She collapsed against him and nearly carried him to the floor. With all his effort, he ignored the burning in his torso and muscled her onto her feet.
Jaq leaned against him and swiped at the tear in her jeans where her pale skin shone, marred with the bloody cut. A tile shard had scraped her leg in a nasty gash, but thank all that was right in this world, she hadn’t been shot.
“Got it. Let’s go.” Her voice came strained, a heavier burden than anything he’d lived through before in his life.
“Hold on, love.”
They limped along as fast as they could down the hallway toward the banquet kitchen.
The guards and Ochre couldn’t see them now, but they’d only have a few seconds of confusion before they were on their trail again.
Entering the kitchen, he breathed a sigh of relief. Too soon. A burly guard stepped into their path. “Hold it right there.”
Harp drew up short, calculating the best way around the behemoth who snarled at them like a dog. He clenched and unclenched his fists, clearly looking for a fight instead of gunning them down. In his condition, Harp couldn’t take him on. Not and get away before the ones behind had caught up.
His heart sank to his stomach. They had to get out, but he was too spent to get them out of this. The data in his back pocket would stop what was coming, a viral outbreak with Giant Corp holding the only cure—for a steep price. And they had the only proof to stop it. Harp swallowed hard and got ready to get pummeled.
The man didn’t bother to watch Jaq as she pulled away. Harp swayed and sidestepped a meaty fist. Harp swung about, landing a solid punch to the man’s gut. The guard bent with the force of the blow, exposing his gun in a shoulder holster as his jacket opened. Harp reached for it.
The guard stepped back and angled away. Harp’s fingers brushed the grip, but slipped. He dove after him, but the guard swung again, hitting him square in the chest.
Harp’s injured
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