Page 60 of Stalker

"Come on in," a guard calls out. "Commander's got a special welcome planned."

My bone spurs extend with a satisfying click. "Perfect. I brought party favors."

The first guard's shot goes wide. My claws find his throat before he can correct his aim. The second guard manages to fire twice - both rounds deflect off my armored hide.

"Amateur." I snap his neck and appropriate his security card.

The hotel's pristine lobby reeks of blood and ozone. More guards will come. Let them. The elevator requires a code I don't have, but the emergency stairs beckon.

I take them three at a time, following the pull of our bond. Fifth floor. Eighth. Twelfth. The fear spikes again, mixing with pain.

"Hold on, Maryse." My voice echoes in the stairwell. "I'm coming."

Footsteps thunder below - reinforcements arriving. Above, a door slams. They're trying to box me in.

But they don't understand. Nothing will keep me from her. Not guards, not Daniels, not even death itself.

I bare my teeth in what humans mistake for a smile. Time to show them why Reapers earned their name.

A guard bursts through the door above. My claws open his chest before his finger finds the trigger. Blood sprays the pristine walls as I vault over the railing, catching the next landing with one hand.

"He's coming up!" Someone shouts from below.

"Really? I thought I was going down." I drop onto a cluster of guards, bone spurs first.

Bones crack. Screams echo. A pulse round grazes my shoulder - the wound closes before the next step.

"Demon!"

"Close enough." My claws find another throat.

The stairwell fills with the copper tang of blood and the acrid stench of fear. These aren't soldiers - just thugs with fancy weapons. They bunch together, making it easy to tear through their ranks.

A lucky shot catches my thigh. I grab the shooter and use him as a shield against his friends. Their loyalty proves selective - they riddle him with holes trying to get to me.

Floor after floor, guard after guard. None of them last more than seconds. My healing factor keeps me fresh while they tire and stumble.

The top floor door looms ahead. One last guard blocks my path, trembling so hard he can barely aim.

"Please... I have a family."

"Should have thought of that before working for Daniels."

His head hits the floor before his body. The security card in his pocket gets me through the door.

The hallway beyond stretches empty and silent. Too silent. The plush carpet muffles my footsteps as I advance, following the pull of our bond.

Maryse is close. The fear in our connection spikes again, drawing me forward like a beacon in the dark.

The hallway stretches before me, each door a potential threat. Maryse's scent lingers - jasmine and sunshine - but it's stale. Hours old.

Pain lances through my skull. The bond between us flares white-hot and -

Cold metal against bare skin. Leather straps bite into wrists and ankles. Electrodes press against temples.

"This is for your own good, sweetheart." Daniels's voice echoes through Maryse's consciousness into mine. "You'll thank me when it's done."

Terror. Betrayal. The sharp sting of tears.