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hostility. “I can do that.” He turned to me. “I’d love your help, young lady.”

A growl throbbed in the air. We all looked at Grym. He made a point of looking over his shoulder. “Is there a dog in here?”

Sebille snorted out a laugh. “There’s definitely something feral.”

Grym glowered at her.

“Shall we go?” the manager asked me.

I nodded.

He reached out and placed a hand on my arm to guide me toward a sign that said ‘Elevator’. It was just to one side of the doors Sebille and I had entered through. “Let’s start there…oh!”

Grym was suddenly chest to chest with the manager, his big form shoving the smaller man backward and away from me. “Don’t…touch…her!” he growled out.

“Grym, back up,” I commanded.

The big cop ignored me, his gaze locked on the other man in a threatening way.

“Grym?”

Nothing. He appeared to be lost to the Cupid’s poisonous spell.

I swallowed hard, my gaze sliding pleadingly toward Sebille. She took a step closer to Grym and casually placed a hand on his shoulder. Pale green light flared from beneath her palm and Grym twitched as if shocked by a bug zapper.

Grym’s eyes rolled back in his head, and Sebille tucked herself quickly beneath his arm, keeping him from falling. She jerked her head toward our destination. “Go. Hurry. He’s heavy.”

“Is he…” the worried manager asked.

I grabbed the man’s arm and gave him a tug. “He’ll be fine. He’s…erm…epileptic. It’ll pass.”

The man let me drag him away but kept glancing back toward Grym. “Are you sure he’s okay? Maybe we should call an ambulance.”

“No. He’s fine. That’s his assistant there with him. She knows what to do.”

I turned back just in time to catch Sebille smacking Grym on the forehead. He snapped right out of whatever she’d done to him.

I grinned. Good thing he had a hard head—a rock-like one, to be precise.

10

Good Goddess on a Rowing Machine!

“Hurry,” I told the manager.

“Why? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Yeah, I thought. Lots of things. “I just have a bad feeling. We need to get the people out of here.”

He nodded, pointing toward a short hallway with restrooms on one side and an elevator at the end. “Our offices are on the third floor.”

The elevator door seemed to take forever to open. Behind us in the mall, I heard the heavy pounding of hurried footsteps.

I eyed the elevator. “How much longer…?”

The doors dinged and opened. I all but shoved the manager into the elevator and pushed him back while I punched the close button a dozen times.

“You know that won’t make it close any faster,” the man said, frowning.

“I know.” The words came out angry. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Sorry. This whole thing has me stressed out.”

He nodded. “I understand. Believe me.”

Thank the goddess, the door finally slid closed. I punched the button for the third floor. “How many employees are up there?”

He shrugged. “Generally, we have a dozen people here during the day. I’m pretty sure I saw five of them slide out the doors with customers. Two people are sick today, so that leaves four, plus me.”

I nodded. “Is anybody armed?”

He paled, his eyes turning to golf balls in his face. “Armed? Like with weapons?”

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Yes.”

“I don’t think so. The Armitage Group forbids any kind of firearm.”

The bell dinged and the doors slid open. We were in another short hallway, the restrooms along the side just like the ones on the first floor. In fact, the whole setup was so similar, I glanced at the number above the elevator door just to make sure we’d changed floors.

“Where’s the office?” I asked.

He pointed toward the mall. “Out there.”

“Lead the way.”

Something felt off about the place when we stepped from the hallway into the wide aisle where the stores were. Like just about every other mall I’d ever visited, the center space was open to the floors below, with a wide, horizontal walkway in the center that crossed from one side to the other.

The floor was tile, the surface glossy and with pale veining like marble. Large pots held small trees or an abundance of tropical-looking plants and flowers. The ends were anchored by large department stores, and the walkways on either side were lined by smaller shops.

It should have been pretty. A soothing oasis from work and life where people could happily spend all their hard-earned money in a stress free environment.

Instead, the place was a mess.

Torn paper, discarded bags, and trampled sale items lay strewn over the slick floor. A woman’s brown leather purse lay in front of us as we emerged from the hall, its contents strewn over a six-foot-wide space.

The owner of the purse was nowhere to be seen. Somewhere down the mall a distance, someone was sobbing.

I reached out and grabbed my companion’s arm, stopping him. “Something’s happening near that central walkway.”

He nodded, stepping close and lowering his voice. “How do you want to play this?”

I nearly grinned at his thriller movie dialogue. My gaze slid to the floor. To the oversized purse. It wasn’t exactly a weapon, but it was something.

I quickly scooped up the purse. It was sewn from heavy leather, but it wasn’t heavy enough to hurt anybody. I scanned the area, finding a store down the way that had what I needed. I put a finger over my lips and pointed to the store.

Very carefully, I removed my shoes and pointed to the manager’s shoes. Once we were both in stocking feet, we padded silently along the wall toward the workout wear store I’d spotted.

We ducked inside the store and eyed the carnage. It looked like every pair of running shoes and every spandex top and running bra had been ripped from shelves and racks and flung around.

We were dealing with some really angry cherubs.

“Are we going to spandex them into submission?” the manager asked, his expression dubious.

“Hopefully not,” I said, kicking clothing aside in search of my goal.

I found it

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