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through my relief. “Now. The police are on the way.”
    I turned to the sight of her gesturing sharply, her expression grim. Solana stood nearby, Helen in her arms. A damp towel covered Helen’s face and neck, and as I joined them I cringed at the charred scent that enveloped her. Helen’s burns had to be very serious, and I wondered if she’d be able to make a full recovery.
    I pressed close to Solana as we entered the elevator. She cradled Helen as gently as though she held an injured bird.
    “How are you feeling?”
    Her face was tearstained but resolute. “I’ll feel much better when the physicians have examined her.” She bared her teeth, and for a moment I was reminded of my first encounter with her in the jungle of Argentina. “He cut off her thumb! Why would he do such a thing?”
    Unable to offer any answers, I rubbed her shoulder in comfort as the elevator descended. We were so close now, but as we exited into the garage, I heard sirens approaching. The truck rumbled into life and I jumped in after Summers, then turned to help Solana. Helen’s head lolled against my shoulder as we raised her into the container, and when my stomach roiled, I focused on breathing through my mouth. She and I had never seen eye-to-eye, but all I could feel for her now was sympathy.
    The truck lurched as the driver pulled out, and I crouched low to steady myself. Solana was whispering to Helen in Spanish, and I let the gentle cadence of her words soothe my own anxiety.
    “Can you leave a different way than we entered?” Foster was asking the driver. “What kind of barricade? Just a chain? Smash through it, then. Hurry.”
    I braced myself between two wooden cartons, but the impact, when it came, was less than I’d expected. And then the truck began to tilt as the driver made a sharp turn much faster than he should have. For a moment, it felt as though we might jackknife, but with a bone-rattling thump, the truck finally settled back onto its axles.
    “We have a problem,” Summers said into the relieved silence. “I can’t raise Headquarters.”
    “What?” Foster pulled out her phone, but Summers shook his head.
    “Tried that already. Not the front desk, not the War Room, not the hospital wing. Nothing.”
    As I looked from face to face, I watched confusion give way to the realization that once again, Brenner had outmaneuvered us.
    “We’ve been played.” The epiphany sent chills shivering under my skin. “Helen’s death sentence was a diversion. Brenner’s been attacking Headquarters—”
    “Probably since we left,” Foster finished. “God damn it, we walked right into both traps.”
    “Are there countermeasures in place?” I asked, wondering what tools Karma had to work with as she tried to defend the people and resources threatened by Brenner. “What happens in the case of an invasion?”
    “The War Room will be locked down,” said Summers, “as will the hospital wing.”
    “How long will it take him to break into those areas?”
    “Days.” But Foster sounded uncertain.
    “Hopefully, days,” amended Summers. “Maybe hours.”
    “Helen certainly doesn’t have days.” The roughness of Solana’s voice betrayed her inner turmoil. “She may not even have hours.”
    “We can go to the west-side hunting facility.” Sebastian spoke for the first time since we’d descended from the penthouse. “It’s a bare bones installation, but it does have a clinic.”
    “You don’t think your father will deploy some of his troops there?”
    “They’re spread too thinly already.”
    I suspected he was right. Brenner had not only needed an attacking force, but also manpower to guard his vampire hostages, including Helen. He would likely focus on Headquarters and take the other Consortium outposts in the city later.
    The truck began to slow. No sooner had it come to a halt than the container door was flung open. Valentine leapt inside, haloed by the rising sun. Her eyes found mine immediately, and