She gasped when she saw Roman slumped against the wall, his blood staining the floor.

“Get him to the study,” I ordered, my voice sounding steadier than I felt. “Now.”

Mara ran forward, her apron flapping, and grabbed Roman’s other side.

Together, we dragged him down the hall, his boots scraping uselessly against the wood.

The sound of wood splintering came from the front foyer as the heavy main doors took a hit.

We hauled Roman into the study and shut the heavy oak door, throwing the deadbolt.

Roman collapsed onto the leather sofa, his face the color of chalk.

“The security console,” he whispered, pointing a trembling hand toward the desk. “The master switch.”

“I’ve got it,” I said, walking over to the secondary wall panel.

“Under the desk,” he gasped. “A red toggle. It drops the steel shutters.”

I scrambled under the heavy mahogany desk, my knees digging into the hard floor.

I found the small metal box screwed to the underside of the wood and flipped the toggle.

With a heavy, mechanical groan, thick steel shutters began to slide down over the windows.