The challenge hung in the air, a lit match tossed casually into a pool of gasoline.
"Prove it."
Damon's pulse roared in his ears, a deafening drumbeat that drowned out the hum of the city traffic forty floors below. He didn't think about Sarah sitting at her desk just beyond the glass walls. He didn't think about the fact that it was barely eleven in the morning. He only saw the arrogant, heavy-lidded stare of the boy standing in front of him.
Damon rounded the desk, moving with the predatory grace of a cornered animal. He stalked forward, crowding the boy's space, forcing Leo to step backward, then backward again, until his shoulders hit the mahogany doors with a solid thud.
Damon slammed his hand flat against the wood right beside Leo's head. Without breaking eye contact, he reached behind his back and twisted the thumb-lock.
Click.
They were sealed in.
