The Greenhouse Effect

The bullet didn't hit them. It hit the chandelier, sending crystal raining down.

"Bedroom! Panic room!" Silas barked, dragging her across the floor.

"No!" Iris grabbed his arm. "He’s not shooting to kill you yet. He wants to separate us. Silas, look at the soil report!"

She shoved a crumpled piece of paper she’d been hiding in her pocket into his hand.

"The fertilizer on the orchids," she panted. "It’s high in guano and volcanic ash. There’s only one place in the city that imports that blend. The Old Victorian Conservatory on the West End."

Silas looked at the paper. "The Conservatory has been abandoned for ten years."

"It’s a perfect hothouse," Iris said. "And the orchids... *Dracula simia*. I only mentioned liking those once. In the breakroom. Three months ago."

Silas froze. "Who was there?"

"Just me... and Julian."

"The archivist?" Silas’s eyes widened. "He installed the security system in this building. He has the override codes."

As if on cue, the lights in the penthouse cut out. The electronic locks on the front door clicked open.

"He's here," Silas whispered. He drew his service weapon. "Get into the panic room. Lock it manually. Do not come out until I say my badge number."

"Silas, no—"

"Go!"

He shoved her toward the hallway and turned toward the door, gun raised.

Iris ran. But she didn't go to the panic room. She knew Julian. If he was the Gardener, he wasn't coming in the front door to fight Silas. He was smarter than that.

She ran to the service elevator in the kitchen.

But Julian was already there.

He stepped out of the shadows of the pantry, holding a rag soaked in chloroform. He wasn't wearing his glasses. He looked calm, almost beatific.

"Hello, Iris," he smiled.

"Julian," she gasped, backing up.

"I saw him tackle you," Julian said sadly. "I saw him throw you to the ground. He’s hurting you. I have to stop it."

"He was saving me!"

"Shhh. You're suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. It’s common."

He lunged.

Iris tried to scream, but the rag clamped over her mouth. The sickly sweet smell filled her nose.

The last thing she heard was Silas roaring her name from the living room, a sound of pure, terrified rage.