Over the glass, the heavy steel security grilles had rolled down, blocking out the city lights.

It felt like we were trapped inside a giant iron cage.

Nathaniel stepped out first, his leather shoes clicking sharply on the polished marble floor.

“Follow me,” he said quietly.

We walked over to a cluster of low leather armchairs near the central reception desk.

The air-conditioning hummed softly in the ceiling, circulating cold, sterile air through the space.

I sat down on the edge of a deep black leather chair, keeping Ruby close to my side.

Nathaniel remained standing, his gaze sweeping the shadowy corners of the room.

“He will come through the north service corridor,” Nathaniel said, pointing toward a heavy wooden door.

“The garage elevators will have routed him back up here when the lockdown initiated.”

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling dry and tight.

“What if he has a key to the manual override?” I asked.

Nathaniel shook his head slowly.

“The system is completely digitized,” he said. “The only override codes are in my head.”

We sat in the dim light of the emergency fixtures, waiting.