In fact, all seven of the masked intruders on the screen resembled each of the Rainbow’s Seven in size and shape. Wyatt watched as his body double reached for the Tome of Tomorrow after shattering the glass it was held in. The man looked directly at the camera, eyes the same color as Wyatt’s. He even had on a pair of glasses over the ski mask, glasses Wyatt was sure he owned.
Another explosion tore through the wall. Mimic and Wyatt both fell to the floor. Police started to swarm into the room, guns drawn but not fully aware of who was a victim and who was hostile.
Roman came running to their side. “Let’s go, hurry.” He helped them back onto their feet and ran with them toward the door, opening it and lunging inside. The sterile hallway stretched ahead of them, the fluorescent lights flickering, plunging the three into a brief stretch of pure dark. One of the blasts must have taken out a generator.
“This way,” Roman said, taking the lead. Wyatt followed behind with Mimic, keeping a hand on the wall to guide him when the lights went out.
“What the hell is happening?” he asked, voice tight and high.
“The Pride grabbed the book and set all this up to make us look guilty.”
“But how? How did any of this happen?”
Roman could only seem to look ahead, unable to answer, his jaw clenched so that the muscles twitched under the blinking lights.
“Alecia!” Wyatt called, seeing the woman running at full speed out of her office. She ran up against the wall, looking back with intense fear reflected in her eyes. She bolted, running in the opposite direction.
“Alecia, wait!” They took off after her, the three of them racing forward, Roman proving to be the fastest of the trio. He broke ahead, gun still at his side but his shouts becoming angrier, telling Alecia to stop.
She wouldn’t. She didn’t even slow down. She was running from them, trying hard to outpace them.
But Roman was fast, too fast for her to lose. He caught up to her, grabbing her elbow and stopping her in her tracks, twisting her back around. She didn’t struggle, only looked up into Roman’s eyes with a shaky defiance, matching the tremble of her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Roman. I had to do it. I had to do it.”
“Why?” Roman asked. Wyatt felt like he had missed an entire plotline. What the hell was she talking about? What had she done? Why was she trying to run away from them?
“They had my daughter, Roman. That asshole, Leonidas, he took her. He threatened to… to—he wouldn’t give her back to me unless I did what he said. And then he promised I’d have her back, and I’d have her treatment, too. I needed to do what he said. I’m so sorry.”
Alecia might as well have taken a brick and smacked Wyatt across the face with it.
Shocked didn’t even begin to describe it. Phantom’s sister was the leak this entire time? She’d been the one helping the Pride get ahead of their every move?
A door slammed from somewhere down the hall. Footsteps echoed toward them.
“How?”
“The watch I gave to Phantom,” Alecia said, tears freely flowing down her face, trailing with dark mascara that pooled under her eyelids. “It recorded everything. And last night, when you told me it was going to happen, I helped them come in and steal the tome. He didn’t tell me about the bombs, though. I swear. I’m sorry.”
“Jesus, Alecia.” Roman let her go, rubbing a hand over his face. “You should have come to us. We would have helped.”
“He said he’d kill her if I did. I couldn’t go to anyone.”
The footsteps grew louder, the sound of police radios growing with them.
“We have to go,” Roman said, urgency bleeding into his tone. Wyatt had never seen him this panicked, and yet he had no idea how he could help. They were royally fucked, Wyatt could clearly see that.
“There isn’t an exit down that way,” Alecia said through more tears, throwing another wrench into the already bent-and-broken machine. If they turned and went the way they came, then they’d run headfirst into a mini battalion of LAPD officers. Alecia grabbed the ring of keys and grabbed a large silver one, running to another door.
“Through here. Break through the window—that should put you in the Renaissance Hall. If you go straight through and make a left, you should find an exit.”
Roman grabbed the key, uttering a tiny thanks as he unlocked the door and threw it open. The three of them ran inside the office, where two employees cowered underneath the desk. They didn’t have any time for explanations or apologies. Roman grabbed an office chair and hurled it at the glass window, sending shards of glass flying into the Renaissance Hall.