A second bullet tore at a chunk of cement near Lila’s fingers.
Lila yanked her hand back, her gaze spinning around the compound. She caught sight of a group of slaves who’d frozen, bags of mulch still propped on their shoulders. A hundred meters away, a group of highborn had stopped mid-chuckle, the wind still carrying their mirth. Another group raced toward a building nearby, one young intern squealing in fright with every step. A passing militia patrol had sunk down at the first bullet, knees bent, ready to sprint toward the unseen intruder.
The warehouse suddenly seemed like a distant, pleasant memory. She’d had a gun in her hand then, pointed at those who might hurt her and her friends. She had a way to end the threat and a visual on those who would do them harm.
For the first time in two weeks, she desperately wanted a weapon.
She wanted bullets and a target, too.
She’d shoot, for oracle’s sake. She’d shoot again, and damn what dreams might come.
The asshole deserved it.
“Security office! Now!” Sutton ordered.
Lila shook her head. “No, too many people—”
“The militia exists to keep you and your mother safe, you idiot!” Sutton hopped to her feet and grabbed Lila’s arm.
The pair ran toward the security office’s front door.
Another glass pane shattered into webs.
A fourth shot rang out and hit the coat of arms on the front door. The metal wolf’s head exploded as Sutton reached for it.
The commander did not shrink back even as metal shards sliced her fingers.
The pair burst inside.
Sutton turned quickly once they reached the lobby. “You hit?”
Lila looked down at her torso, patting her body as if she’d lost something. “I don’t think so. You?”
“No, just a few paper cuts. The shooter can’t hit the broadside of a barn.”
Sutton stalked toward the front desk, rolling her eyes at a few curious militia members who crowded the glass walls and peered through the panes. She leaned over the desk with a grunt and snatched up the receptionist’s headset, slamming the all button with an angry, bloody palm. “This is Commander Sutton. There is a shooter on the compound. I repeat, there is a shooter on the compound. Emergency teams get suited up and meet me at the back door. Two minutes. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. And for gods’ sake, everybody, get your asses away from the walls, or I’ll shoot you myself.”
A few embarrassed blackcoats, mostly office personnel, slinked away from the glass.
Sutton tossed the headset back to the trembling receptionist. “I want a full lockdown throughout the compound. Contact the great house first. Have the guards shuttle the matron and her family to the vault.”
As if Sutton had reminded everyone that two plus two did equal four, the blackcoats hopped into action. Only their panicked eyes revealed it wasn’t a monthly drill.
Lila started off with Sutton for the ground-floor armory, but the commander shoved her back. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“With you!”
Sutton cocked her head to the side. Whatever she wanted to say, she didn’t. “You’re not going anywhere. Get upstairs, where it’s safe. Don’t make me tranq you.” Sutton snapped her fingers at a passing sergeant. Judging by his stubble and the creases in his uniform, he’d been on patrol all night. “Assemble what’s left of your patrol shift and escort the chief to her office. Shooter’s targeting her. You know what to do.”
The man did not seem surprised at the order. He turned immediately, calling out on his radio as he jogged back toward the cafeteria to fetch his squad.
Boots thudded on the granite. Leather swished. Cotton rustled. People brushed past Lila en route to the armory or their positions around the building. Annoyed by the jostling, Lila planted herself beside the elevator, waiting for the sergeant to return.
She did not have to wait long. The squad assembled quickly, still wiping away crumbs and drawing their weapons.
Lila swiped her keycard through the slot as the dozen blackcoats swarmed the elevator.
The doors closed. The glass chamber rose. Lila watched her bustling people grow smaller and smaller below.