“No, no, you’re not going anywhere,” Donnelly said in a booming voice meant to intimidate. And it was working.
He reached for his service weapon, but Ariane was ready.
She lifted her hand to direct her power, pinning Donnelly to the closed elevator doors on the opposite wall, his body frozen in position, like a cartoon character who’d been slammed back and just hadn’t fallen over yet, usually with a matching chunk of wall.
“Please don’t struggle,” she said to him. “I don’t want to push too hard. You could get hurt.”
His eyes bulged as if she’d waved a knife in his face, threatening him.
And to be fair, to him, that probably sounded way more like an intent to harm than the fair warning it was.
But she didn’t have time to reassure him further, because the sound of running footsteps was coming toward us from the other end of the hall—Donnelly’s fellow officers responding to his raised voice. He hadn’t had time to radio for help. He might not have thought it was necessary. It was very easy, and stupid, to underestimate Ariane.
They stopped abruptly as we entered the hallway from the elevator alcove. There were four of them, all CPD officers, and they immediately dropped into formation, two of them on their knees, the other two standing, and four guns pointing straight at us as they shouted:
“Stop!”
“Don’t move!”
“Raise your hands and get on your knees!”
Contradictory orders, and Ariane, of course, ignored them, focusing her attention on holding the men in place.
Only the change in their expressions, from harsh and commanding to alarmed, revealed that she’d succeeded.
Several strained curses followed.
“Please stay calm. I won’t hurt anyone,” she said, removing the weapons from their hands with a gesture, neatly and easily, without so much as a stray shot. With the guns floating in the air ahead of her, she simply stepped between the men, easing through the narrow gap between them.
Jesus. I followed—a much trickier move for someone of my size—and I could feel the force they were exerting against her hold. If sheer muscle and determination (and pissed-offness) could break them loose, they would have done it.
Unfortunately, that was no match for what Ariane had working against them. She could stop a freaking heart. Arms and legs were just no contest for her.
As soon as we were clear of them, though, three more came charging toward us with more of the same. Guns. Threats.
Ariane neatly brushed them aside, but one of them recovered faster, breaking loose as we passed them.
I was closest, so he made a grab for me first.
With a strained expression, Ariane swiped at the air in front of him, a gesture that should have sent him reeling, or at least knocked him back a step or two, but it seemed only to slow him down, and barely.
She was exerting too much of her energy holding the others in place, I realized. That telekinetic ability, however amazing it might be, was a finite resource. It could only be used to do so many things at once. Emerson had treated us to many lectures on that topic at the lab.
I focused on the officer and concentrated on where I wanted him to be, just as Adam had condescendingly instructed during our sessions in the lab.
The officer slammed into the wall, his head hitting with a disturbing thunk that sent a shudder through me. His eyes snapped closed, but his chest still rose and fell. Unconscious, or maybe just stunned. Either way, I hadn’t meant to push quite that hard.
“Shit. Sorry,” I muttered to him.
Ariane stared at me.
“I got it,” I said tightly. Yeah, for the moment.
With a surprised arch of her eyebrows, Ariane nodded, not bothering to argue with me. Which could only be a further sign that I was right. She was tapped out or close to it.
She moved on down the hall—good God, how long was this hallway? It felt much longer when people kept trying to attack us—and I turned, pressing my back against hers to keep an eye on them.
Always cover your six. That was basic Call of Duty strategy. Just never thought I’d actually use it in real life.
I could feel a dull throb starting in the center of my brain, and blood trickled out of my nose and into my mouth at a rate that was unprecedented. Damn it. We needed to hurry up, or I was going to bleed to death before someone got a chance to shoot me.
Ariane stopped abruptly, and I glanced over my shoulder to see what the issue was.
Outside the first conference room, dubbed Sherwood Forest, according to the metal plaque on the wall, five, no, six bodies were laid out on the floor, head to toe, and three on each side of the hall. Oversized sheets, which had obviously been appropriated from a hotel supply closet somewhere, covered them.
Oh God.
Ariane inched forward and bent down to grab the corner of one sheet. I turned to watch.
A pair of EMTs leaned out from a room down the hall, and Ariane froze.
But they looked at her, at the police behind us, and then abruptly retreated, shutting the door after themselves. Smart move.