Panic rose in Matt at Vic’s announcement. “No,” he murmured, shaking his head. Telepathically, he added, ::Vic, don’t do this. You can’t.::
::I got to get you out of there,:: came Vic’s reply.
Matt shook his head harder as the gun fired, its steady rapport loud in the small showroom. Beside him, Roxie held Matt’s arm in a painful grip, her nails digging through his shirt sleeve and into his skin. She moaned, rocking back and forth. “God, Vic,” she said, over and over, occasionally punctuating the moment with a loud cry. “Stop! Vic!”
Covering her hand with his own, Matt tried to tell her, “It isn’t him.” But the sound of the gun was deafening, and even if she could hear him, he wasn’t sure she’d believe him anyway.
Then Matt heard something so startling, it shocked him into opening his
