The scanner beeped green, and the heavy door clicked open with a hiss of pneumatic pressure.

The room inside was small, concrete, and lined with security monitors.

Damon pushed us inside, and the door slid shut behind us, locking with three distinct, heavy thuds.

The silence of the room was absolute, shutting out the chaos of the ballroom.

Leo began to cry softly, his face buried in my neck.

“It’s okay, baby,” I whispered, rocking him. “We’re safe here.”

Damon stood in front of the wall of monitors, his fingers flying across a keyboard.

Only three of the twelve screens were active, showing static-filled feeds of the corridors.

“Marcus, do you copy?” Damon spoke into the console.

There was only static in response.

“The external comms are cut,” Damon said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone.

“How is that possible?” I asked, walking over to him. “You said this building was a fortress.”

“It is,” Damon said. “The only way to override the elevator shafts and cut the comms is through the master administration panel.”

He stared at the screen, his jaw tight as he tapped a sequence of keys.