#Chapter 44: Into the Fire

ELENA The hallway roared around me—screams and the thunder of boots echoing off polished stone as Logan yanked me after him, his grip vice-tight around my wrist. My high heels slid and stuttered over the rubble that had spilled out of the restaurant, and the air around us smelled like smoke. And blood. “Come on!” he barked, not looking back. We tore through the halls of the summit venue, the restaurant explosion already distant behind us. Dust clung to the air, thick and acrid. My ears rang from the blast. Somewhere behind us, someone was crying. “Where are we going?” I shouted. “To the hotel wing. You’re going to your room, locking the door, and staying there.” My feet stumbled as I pulled back. “Logan—” There were people hurt and I could be back there helping them. Logan didn’t even slow. He knew what I was thinking. “Absolutely not,” he said, pulling on me once more. “You are not a fighter, Elena.” That stopped me. I yanked my hand free. “Excuse me?” His