Chapter 11 Tacita
Tacita
Leaning back against the wall inside the main entrance foyer to the dorms, I take a minute to pull myself together.
Wyatt just about fucked my brains out back there, and it was only a quick tumble in the sheets. I hadn’t expected my reaction, but I couldn’t deny how my body was still thrumming with the endorphins from the orgasm he ripped from my body.
It had taken all my power to not shift as I’d come, my demon form begging to get in on the action. Even the thought of Wyatt grabbing my horns now has an aftershock of shivers coating my skin.
He’s a human.
But he’s real fucking good in bed.
Pulling in a deep breath and exhaling slowly, I attempt to pull my brain back to the task in hand.
I was using the self-proclaimed man whore upstairs to give me a cover.
So I’d better crack on and get to it. I can sort through my reaction to him later, preferably somewhere I can get myself off again to the memory of his delicious dick pounding into me.
I allow myself a few more seconds, and a couple more deep breaths, before moving off the wall.
I’m not taking the main entrance, that thing has several cameras pointing at it and I’m sure it’ll be monitored even closer now that there is a killer amongst us. Well, one who has flagrantly gone against Hades’s rules. Most of us here are killers.
Slipping into the corridor, I am instead heading to the emergency exit at the back of the building. On silent feet I glide down the hall, picking up on only a couple of noises coming from behind the doors of the rooms on this level.
Reaching the exit at the end, I make quick work of recircuiting the alarm and press the bar to open it. The grounds beyond are dark, with only lights spilling out from the windows of those still awake and with their curtains open.
My eyes adjust quickly, and I can make out the wilderness beyond the boundary fencing.
Looking up at the swirling star studded sky, I long for nothing more than to take off into the night and fly into the mountains to stretch my wings.
My shoulder blades burn with the effort it takes to not shift.
I’m going to have to find a way soon; I can’t go much longer without letting them out.
I have the full CCTV coverage map memorised, the one I’d put together in the library earlier.
Garrick’s team have been pretty thorough, meaning my route to the officers building is long and arduous.
Especially when I have to wait for the guards on the night shift to pass by as they patrol the grounds and because I have to detour to the laundry services to snag one of the guard uniforms. But eventually, I make it to the Officers’ block in costume, hair braided into a bun and ready to sneak in.
There isn’t much I can do about the camera on the entrance but I’m hoping that if I act like I belong no notice will be taken.
I hope it's dark enough that whoever is watching the feeds will recognise the clothing and not look any closer. Plus, the key card should work unless it’s already been deactivated.
Striding from my hiding spot to the door, I’ve already pulled the card out from my pocket and slam it to the lock as I step up the few steps to the entrance. I let out a relieved breath as the light on the mechanism goes green and I’m able to pull the door open and slip inside.
The immediate entrance is thankfully empty, but I can hear sounds coming from along the hallway.
From the clatter and scent, it sounds like a few of the officers are brewing coffee.
They are chatting quietly and haven’t taken notice of the main door opening and closing.
It’s probably a regular enough occurrence to not disturb them.
And none of them will be expecting an inmate to have stolen a pass to break in.
Tiptoeing in the opposite direction, I head up the stairway directly opposite the entrance, being extra vigilant to stay quiet now I’m amongst my own kind with supernatural hearing.
I haven’t been able to find a map of this building, so I don’t know which rooms I need, or even which floor they’re on, but seeing as guards are awake and moving around on the ground floor, I decide to scope out the middle and top floors first.
At a guess, the top floor must be their sleeping quarters. However, as I start down the corridors of the middle floor it looks like many of the rooms here are bedrooms too. Each one has a name on it and the locks are similar to those in my dormitory.
Doing a full circuit, I come up empty. And a quick scout around the top floor results in the same.
Coming back to the stairway, I creep my way back down, listening hard for any activity that might spell trouble for me and peeking over the bannister as I go.
I know there are a few panther shifters amongst the guards, and I don’t fancy running into one of them in their cat form right now.
It’s as I’m taking another glance to the floor below that I spot the stairway underneath the one I’m on. It's not connected to the main one which runs up the building and heads down from the hall.
They have a freaking basement floor!
Excitement runs through me as I reach the wooden parquet flooring of the entryway and scoot round the newel, keeping out of sight of the common room door.
Checking over my shoulder as I descend the first steps, I breathe a little easier as the guards I can hear chatting continue talking without pause.
These stairs are concrete and run deep into the ground, leading beneath the foundations of the building above. The walls, too, turn into concrete with strip lights overhead lighting my way.
As I reach the bottom, the first thing I notice is yet another set of stairs ahead. How many levels does this place have?
The second thing is the open plan room to my left.
There are glass panels on each side of the door, which is half glass as well.
It’s easy to see inside, meaning it’s also easy to see out.
Ducking down, I move over to the sliver of wall beside the glass.
Moving slowly I twist to peer in and take a full reccy of the room that must be the main office space.
Thankfully, with the late hour, no one is working inside.
Several desks sit empty. Clearly the guards are vigilant about leaving paperwork around.
My luck hasn’t deserted me though, for the far wall is lined with filing cabinets.
Bingo.
Darting to the door, I ease it open and slip inside.
It registers in my brain that it's weird to not have one of the electronic locks on this room but I can’t afford to linger and think about it.
There’s a massive screen on one wall, a couple of other monitors too, but they’re not hooked up to anything.
Looks like I won’t be finding a laptop, but hopefully, those filing cabinets contain the information on the candidates that I’m looking for.
Nope.
Probably a good twenty minutes later, I admit defeat. The filing cabinets are a bust. There’s financial data, lesson plans, receipts and building regulation documents. Nothing about the games.
Officer I-have-to-admit-is-good-at-his-job has also clearly laid down the law about his staff not leaving anything of use in here. This room is useless.
Sneaking back out, I eye the rooms opposite. These do not have any glass or windows. The only indications of what’s inside are the small brass plaques on the centre of the heavier looking doors. The furthest is labelled as ‘Surveillance Room.’
I’d love to look in there and see just how many cameras this place is rigged up with but it's highly likely someone is in there.
The middle door reads ‘Tarron Blake’, Garrick’s second. And the third lights excitement in my veins once more; Garrick Zephyr.
Pausing to listen with my ear to the door first, I gently knock on the wood after I don’t pick up on any sounds coming from within.
Thankfully, silence follows, so I dare to test the doorknob.
Shockingly, it unclicks so I nudge it open a crack, pausing to listen again for any rustle or movement of air that would indicate the room beyond has an occupant. All stays quiet, so I sneak inside.
Another half an hour later and I’m growling in frustration. There is absolutely nothing useful in here either. The reason that his door isn’t locked is that no information is kept here at all. Nothing I’m looking for anyway.
I have memorised the plans for the next two games as I found those in Garrick’s desk drawer, along with some throwing knives, staff rotas, and invoices for the catering, maintenance etc.
There’s not a single file on the candidates competing in the games.
Slamming a fist on the wooden desktop I throw myself into Officer Dickhead’s chair, huffing in annoyance.
He must have a laptop or a computer right? At least a phone. He must keep it in his room. Or maybe I should try my stolen keycard on the surveillance room, as that did have a lock on it. But if there are guards anywhere down here, it’ll be in that room.
I reach for the map I’d found of this building and study it again. I was correct, all the rooms on the middle and top floor were bedrooms. The bottom floor had the Guards’ kitchen, dining area, common/rec room, a kit room–I’m assuming for weapons and outdoor gear–and a small library.
These basement levels are far more interesting.
Besides the offices, the next level down holds a gym, including a pool, and an underground tunnel to the main building.
Wanting to know where that led I reopen the drawer I found the compound maps in and begin rooting through it for the one covering the main building.
Just as I find the correct one someone clears their throat from the doorway.
Jolting back in the chair, I nearly topple over backwards. Grabbing for the desk to steady myself, my heart starts repumping the blood that’s just frozen in my veins as I see who I’ve been discovered by.
“Hades, you scared the shit out of me,” I tell him firmly.