Chapter 32 · The Hold That Doesn't Open

"Ellis—" Dean started, and that's when the board screamed instead of him.

Six channels lit at once. Not the leak. Not line nine. Precinct traffic, stacked three deep, voices climbing over each other like they were drowning.

"Shots fired, Delancey and 9th, we need backup, we need—"

"Ten-thirty-three, repeat, officer down, officer—"

I was already moving. Headset on, hand on the fader before my brain caught up with my hand.

"Ellis." Dean's voice again, flatter now, the kind of flat that means he's done asking nice. "The door doesn't open. You hear me? I cut the wrong line. We're sealed."

"I hear you." I didn't look at him. Couldn't. Six units screaming and only one throat to feed them into, and that throat was mine. "Delancey, say your twenty, I've got two units four blocks out—"

He grabbed my wrist. Not soft. His whole hand went around it, thumb finding the pulse point like he already knew it'd be slamming.

"Look at me." His mouth was an inch off my ear, close enough I felt the heat of it land on my skin before the words did. "Oxygen's dropping. Heat's climbing. That door is the only way out of this box and I can't get the release lever to move. We fix that first."

"No.