He pressed the button.

The heavy steel emergency fire doors of the ballroom began to slide shut, locking us inside.

At the same moment, the main doors behind me hissed.

The lights flickered once more, then went completely black.

In the darkness, a loud crash echoed from the back of the stage.

I reached out, trying to find Alexander in the pitch black.

My fingers brushed against someone’s sleeve, but a rough hand grabbed my wrist.

“Don’t make a sound, Claire,” a voice whispered in my ear.

The grip on my wrist was tight, but the scent of cedarwood and rain told me instantly who it was.

“Alexander,” I breathed, my voice swallowed by the screaming around us.

“I have you,” he whispered back, pulling me against his chest.

Red emergency lights flickered on, casting a bloody glow over the panicked crowd.

People were scrambling under tables, silverware clattering against porcelain as they fled.

Julian stood near the side exit, his remote control useless as the heavy steel doors groaned and ground to a halt.

He had blocked his own escape route.