“Is that what she told you?” Kara’s lip curled. “God, you’re still so in love with this little liar that you can’t even think straight.” With no warning, she bundled Willow away through the basement door; he heard Willow cry out.

Alex dove for the weapons cabinet. Locked. Oh Jesus, since when did they ever lock it? He raced for the basement, dimly aware of the intensified struggle behind him, Seb’s shouts. As he reached the open door, Kara burst out and shoved him hard at the stairway. He spun towards her, trying for her gun – but the next second Seb had slammed into him and they’d both gone tumbling down the stairs.

Chapter Twenty-eight

ALEX SCRAMBLED TO HIS FEET, barrelling back up the stairs just as the door slammed shut; he heard the bolt glide home and threw himself against the unyielding wood anyway. “You’re making a mistake!” he yelled. He slammed the door with his fist. “Kara! Don’t go ahead with the attack, don’t!”

“I’m sorry, Alex,” she called, her voice already fading. “But believe me, you’ll thank me for this someday.” The sound of the front door closing filtered down to him. Alex gave a wordless bellow of fury and frustration and shouldered the door again; it shuddered but stayed firm.

“Somehow, I don’t think we’re going to break the door down,” said a dry voice. Seb was there, his cheek already looking bruised and swollen. Reaching into his trouser pocket, he pulled out his switchblade.

“What, you had a knife the whole time?” demanded Alex.

Seb flicked the knife open and angled the blade through the gap between door and wall, probing at the bolt and trying to slide it back across. “You had a gun – and you weren’t even getting your face smashed,” he pointed out. “At least I managed to hold onto my blade.”

As the knife scratched and scraped, Alex glanced down the stairs at Willow. She stood at the bottom holding onto the railing, grimacing slightly as she rolled her ankle. Their eyes met. “Are you all right?” asked Alex after a pause.

She nodded and put her foot to the ground, testing it. “Fine. She just – pushed me really hard.”

Even now, Alex’s impulse was to go to her and hold her. It wasn’t his place any more – it was Seb’s. He looked away.

The minutes dragged by. Seb swore softly as the blade skittered across the bolt. Finally he shook his head and started on the hinges instead, twirling the knife’s tip deftly in each screw head. “Oh, man, that’s going to take for ever,” muttered Alex, shoving his hair back. The reception would be starting soon; their private audience was the first one scheduled. They had maybe an hour, tops.