She opened her eyes for a fraction of a second, glassy, frantic, and whispered, "Adrian… go after her… don't—"
"Shut up." I tightened my grip. "I'm not leaving you. You hear me?"
Another blast tore through the opposite hallway. Shards of psychic energy cut like knives. Guards screamed, running, but the Veil operatives were moving with precision, using telekinetic shields shimmering faintly, suppressing our psychic countermeasures.
Thorne's voice crackled in my ear. "East exit compromised. They're splitting teams, one heading for Gracia, one for your sister."
I froze, blood draining. Gracia's escape team had split. I could either go after my assistant, the traitor, or protect Elena.
My chest ached. Every instinct screamed to chase Gracia; she had betrayed me. She had used access I trusted to endanger my home, my people, Elena, and Kelly.
But Elena was collapsing under psychic assault. She couldn't defend herself, not against this, not without me.
