“Agent Chris must be on the tenth floor or the roof. Follow me!” Elliot said. I nodded and stayed close behind him as he shouldered his way through the crowd, our progress slowed by the rows of sewing equipment that had been shoved to the floor. I was just clambering over a particularly cumbersome piece of equipment when something brought me up short. I reached out and grabbed Elliot’s arm, bringing him to a stop, and for a half second we stood frozen as chaos swirled around us. I wondered briefly if this was what it felt like to stand in the middle of a tornado. Elliot yanked on my arm, but I held up my hand and shook my head. I’d seen something, I just needed my conscious brain to catch up with my subconscious.

One second. Two. I’m not sure how long I stood there, my eyes combing the features of panicked worker after panicked worker until I saw her. At first I thought it was Agent Chris—that was who we were here for, after all—but in the next second I realized that I was looking at a Butterfly. Maybe it was the fact that she stood three inches taller than the other workers, or the fact that her face was perfectly clean while those around her were filthy, sweaty, and soot-covered, but I knew it was her. I leaped off the equipment and charged. The woman turned at the last second, and I saw her surprised expression as I took her to the ground. Elliot was there a second later, and before I could stop him, he’d slapped his Chaos Cuffs on her, and they disappeared in front of my eyes.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Elliot