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floor of the shaft groaned under their hurried movements, a string of metallic curses. Precious seconds later, horizontal bars of white light pierced the shaft. A round outlet vent set in the exterior wall. One of Amanda's fists pounded the fixture. Punching was futile. The metal was too thick; they'd get more leverage by kicking it loose. Ryan reached for her forearm and missed, but she caught the motion and squinted in his direction. He pointed at her feet.
    Then he desperately fought to breathe as she squirmed against him to get into position in the tight space.
    Teamwork took care of the vent cover faster than he'd expected, and the last barrier to their freedom plunged three stories to the asphalt. Fresh, frigid winter air warred with humid smoke.
    Ryan pushed his just-for-show glasses higher on his nose but before he could locate a way down, he heard stirrings of chaos below. Reporters, sirens, confusion, and shouted attempts to restore order beat into his temples like a hangman's drum. If he didn't control the additional volume now, he'd overload. Mid-jump from a burning building wasn't an optimal time to pass out. Concentrating, he closed his eyes and strained his filters.
    Something went wrong. Outside stimulus dimmed in his ears, but instead of focus, he couldn't lift his eyelids. Dread coiled tight in his stomach.
    "Spiritwalker."
    The back of his head hit the warm vent. Romeo? Why do you keep calling me that?
    "Move, Spiritwalker."
    "Ryan." A dry whisper. Amanda's hands shook his shoulders, pulled at his body. "Don't quit now."
    His detective's voice roused something fierce in him that went beyond lust. Re-energized, Ryan's eyes cracked to narrow slits. She had pushed the strip of fabric against his face with one hand, pointing past his nose with the other. Urgency creased her soot-streaked forehead. He strained to see through the smoke. A fire escape lined the building to their right. Jay was there, leaning over the rail, his fingers twitching in rapid sign language as he mouthed simultaneously, "Any day now!"
    Zach had done it.
    By the time they reached the ground, the fire was out. Both he and Amanda were fussed over by harried EMTs. She sat huddled on the bumper of an ambulance not far from him, wrapped in an orange blanket and clasping an oxygen mask to her face. Heat had given her gold and brown hair an adorable, frazzled texture and with that weary look, she could have climbed out of a bed instead of a burning building. An image of one feisty detective — wrapped in silk and lace and sliding under those sheets with him — sparked in his brain. A fresh lance of need torqued through his blood.
    His body didn't get a vote. As it was, getting close wouldn't be easy. She didn't care about his money. She cared about integrity, and he'd already folded that hand.
    Jay's hard grip locked onto Ryan's shoulder. Anger tightened his youngest brother's gaze but his fingers twitched anxiously and his cheeks were pale. "This is your idea of a lunch break?"
    Ryan cracked the mask off his jaw to respond and Jay pinned him with a glare that could melt glass. With their abilities, who knew — maybe it could.
    "Less talking, more breathing," Jay said.
    Ryan lifted his hands in surrender and slumped against the ambulance door. The inevitable grilling he'd receive that evening would be long overdue and well-deserved. Considering the regularity he had to lecture Jay and Zach, he let his little brothers take victories where they could.
    "Better." Jay's voice dropped to a sliver of a whisper. "Fiscal adventures aren't enough for you during the day? You have to liberate files, too?"
    So much for a reprieve on questions. Ryan frowned. He was certain no mention of the file had gone over his earpiece. So how did his brothers know what he'd paid for with his implied bribe? Had they bugged Lieutenant Dale's office? Both of them had been heavy-handed with the tiny sound-triggered mics lately.
    Jay didn't keep him guessing long. "I saw