The stranger guided her carefully and quickly along the edge of the atrium, just yards away from the chandelier, broken into millions of shards of crystal and metal. It had obliterated the Steinway grand. The bench Kat had been sitting on moments before had simply disappeared into the rubble.
An alarm sounded. Loud, repetitive, painful. An announcement, urgent, echoed throughout the ship. She couldn’t hear the words over the alarm and the panicked voices ringing around her.
Harsh smoke enveloped them, mingling with a sharp chemical scent and the foggy mist from the sprinkler system. Kat coughed against the acrid smoke, eyes burning.
“Use this, and stay low.” The man at her side thrust a cloth napkin into her hands and pulled her into a crouch as they maneuvered toward an exit.
Kat held the napkin to her face and followed, pushing back images of that fiery night in March, flames clinging to her pajama pants, the walls of her parents’ house buckling around her.
She’d lost her heels, and her bare feet slid along the now-slick floor. Their path brought them past toppled chairs and purses left behind, coffee spilled and cameras abandoned on tables.
“Almost there,” the man said, his tone calm and even.
If he was scared, he wasn’t showing it. As a matter of fact, she had the sense that he knew what he was doing. That he’d done it before or had trained for it. He made no missteps, didn’t hesitate, just led her efficiently out of the area and into the art gallery. The smoke wasn’t as thick there, the air clearer.
Kat chanced a look back. Security officers descended on the scene as fire crew swarmed in from all directions, aiming a hose and extinguishers at what remained of the flames. The fire was contained.
They were safe.
Kat had escaped death. A second time. She should feel relieved, but a shudder coursed through her, dread in its wake.
“Grandma!”
Kat jumped at the barked shout and felt the grip on her side loosen. But the man didn’t release her.
“Over here!” he called.
She followed his gaze. A trim older woman wearing a very large red hat hurried toward them. She looked to be in her early seventies, and her eyes were lit with interest rather than fear.
“Sam, I’m so glad you’re all right.” Her gaze cut to Kat, and she smiled. “You’re Kathryn Brooks. I heard you playing earlier—just beautiful music!” She glanced past Kat’s shoulder. “Looks like the piano didn’t survive. What happened?”
Good question. Kat had no idea.
“We need to keep moving,” Sam said, taking his grandmother’s arm. He started walking, his hand still gripping Kat’s wrist. She pulled away.
“I’m okay now.” She could make it back to her room without help.
Gray eyes turned to her, assessing.
“Your color may be coming back, but I’d like to stay close until you’re settled in your room.”
His gaze lingered a moment, and Kat’s cheeks heated in response as she made a mental note of the details she would relay to Morgan once this nightmare was over. Eyes the color of steel. A couple days’ worth of growth on a strong jaw. And biceps that stretched the edging on the sleeves of his black polo.
“Really, I’ll be okay getting to my room,” she murmured, tempted to accept his offer but not wanting to impose on Sam and his grandmother. In truth, she’d rather not be alone after what had just happened.
“Humor me,” Sam said, and Kat wondered if he could read the fear in her eyes. “I’d like to make sure you get back to your cabin in one piece.” He didn’t leave room for argument, turning abruptly and leading his grandmother through the narrow gallery.
Kat followed. They were heading for the stairwell she needed anyway.
“How in the world did that chandelier fall?” Sam’s grandmother asked.
“It didn’t fall,” Sam said. “It exploded.”
Kat shivered. “And landed right where I was sitting. Your grandson saved my life,” she added.
She didn’t think Sam had heard her. His focus was fixed on the winding staircase ahead, where passengers had begun to clog the stairwells. Energy nearly vibrated from the man as he patiently matched pace with his grandmother, cupping her elbow as they ascended the steps. It was a rare man who cared so deeply for his grandmother.
Movement on the stairs was slow going, but at least most people seemed calm. More calm than Kat felt, anyway.
Sam was right. It had been an explosion, but surely it was accidental. An electrical problem, perhaps? She glanced at Sam, noticed the way he continually scanned the crowd. As if he sensed more danger was coming. The thought urged her to go faster, and she pressed in closely behind Sam and his grandmother.
“I’m not surprised he saved you,” his grandmother said. “That’s what my Sammy does.”
“Saves lives?” Kat stole a glance at him.
“Yes,” his grandmother said cheerfully. “He’s a bona fide hero.”
“Grandma.” The word was a warning, but Sam’s grandmother didn’t seem at all concerned about heeding it.
“It’s what God put him here to do. And I think He’s proving that today.”
“Grandma, really. Enough,” Sam ground out, shooting his grandmother a look of half exasperation and half amused tolerance.
“Fine. If I must, I’ll stop telling her about you. For now,” she said with an innocent smile. “I’m Alice West, by the way.”
“It’s good to meet you, Alice,” Kat responded. “Though circumstances could be better.”
“They could also be worse,” Alice said.
True. Kat could be dead. The passengers in the atrium this evening could have been injured. The fire could have spread quickly through the ship. They could all be fighting over lifeboats at this very moment.
So many things could have been worse, and Kat tried to hold on to that. Morgan would call her a pessimist, but Kat was simply realistic. And there was no escaping the fact that she’d narrowly escaped death twice now, and she could happily do without another near-death experience.
She shuddered, wishing they could move a little faster. She couldn’t wait to reach the safety of her room. Kat glanced at Sam. He seemed on high alert, and she was curious about what his grandmother had divulged. She’d stopped believing in heroes a long time ago, but he seemed like the kind of guy who just might renew her faith.
“What floor are you on, Kat?” he asked without looking her way.
“Twelve.”
“Oh my,” Alice said with a glint in her eyes. “What a lovely coincidence. We are, too.”
“Grandma,” Sam cut in, his gaze still tracking the movement of the people in front of him. “How about you—”
“Attention all crew and passengers!”
The announcement sounded clearly through the speakers overhead, and voices in the stairwell hushed as passengers strained to listen. “This is Captain Philip Orland. As many of you know, there has been a fire in the atrium. We have the situation under control but ask that you proceed to your staterooms immediately until