J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 5-8 - J. R. Ward [302]
“Yes . . . the house, my house . . . tunnels . . .” Three nurses made an appearance behind him. They were scared shitless, white as the overhead emergency lights.
“Oh, dearest Virgin,” Havers said, “the doggen at the house. Karolyn—”
“I’ll get them,” Phury said. “I’ll find them and get them out. Where are the keys to the ambulances?”
The doctor reached behind the door. “Here.”
Thank. Fuck. “The lessers have found the southern tunnel, so we’re going to have to get everyone out through the house.”
"O-okay.”
“We’ll start the evac as soon as we have this facility temporarily secured,” Phury said. “You four stay locked in here until you hear from one of us. You’re going to be our drivers.”
“H-how did they find us?”
“No clue.” Phury shoved Havers back into the office, shut the door, and hollered for the guy to lock up.
By the time he got back to the reception area, the fighting was over, the last lesser being stabbed into oblivion by Rehv’s red sword.
Z wiped his forehead with a hand that left a black smudge behind. Looking over, he demanded of Phury, “Status?”
“At least nine staff and patients killed, unknown number of abductions, area is not secured.” Because God only knew how many lessers were still within the clinic’s maze of corridors and rooms. “Suggest stabilize entrance and south tunnel as well as exit to house. Evac will require use of the back stairwell into the house, and then rapid departure with ambulances and private vehicles. Medical staff will drive. Destination is backup clinical location on Cedar Street.”
Zsadist blinked for a minute, as if he were surprised at the clean logic. “Good deal.”
The cavalry arrived a second later, Rhage, Butch, and Vishous landing one, two, three in the elevator. The trio were armed like tanks and pissed off.
Phury glanced down at his watch. “I’m going to get the civilians and the staff out of here. You take care of finding any loose lessers in the facility and playing welcome wagon to the next wave.”
“Phury,” Zsadist called out as he turned around.
When Phury looked over his shoulder, his twin tossed across one of the pair of SIGs he always wore.
“Watch your ass,” Z said.
Phury took the gun with a nod and jogged down the corridor. After doing a quick scope of the distances between the medical supply closet, Havers’s office, and the stairwell, he felt like the three points were seperated by miles, not yards.
He opened the door to the stairwell. Security lights glowed red, and the silence was golden. Moving quickly, he went up the steps, entered the code for the door lock into the house, and stuck his head out into a wood-paneled hallway. The scent of lemon polish was from the glossy floor.The perfume of roses came from a bouquet on a marble stand. The lamb-and-rosemary combo was from the kitchen.
No baby powder.
Karolyn, Havers’s maid, leaned around the corner. “Sire?”
“Gather the servants—”
“We’re all together. Right here. We heard the alarms.” She nodded over her shoulder. “There are twelve of us.”
“Is the house secure?”
“None of our security systems have gone off.”
“Excellent.” He tossed her the keys Havers had given him. “Take the tunnels out to the garages and lock yourselves in them. Start every ambulance and car you have, but do not pull out, and leave one person by the door so I can get in with the others. I will knock and identify myself. Do not open up for anyone else but me or a Brother. Got it?”
It was painful to watch the doggen swallow her fear and nod. “Is our master . . .”
“Havers is fine. I’m going to bring him to you.” Phury reached out and squeezed her hand. “Go. Now. And be quick. We have no time here.”
He was back down in the clinic in the blink of an eye. He could hear his brothers moving around, knew them by the sounds of their boots and their scents and their patter of talk. No more slayers yet, evidently.
He went to Havers’s office and sprang the four who were in there