Chapter 21
Ihold my right hand up, small flames springing from my fingers. The doorknob slowly turns, but the door doesn’t open. I step back, out of the direct line of sight of whoever will step through and into the room.
Holding my breath, I curl my fingers in, creating a ball of fire in my hand. Bringing my arm back, I prepare to throw the fireball, but then Rachel steps through the door.
“Rachel!” I exclaim.
She jumps, covering her head with her hands.
“I won’t hurt you,” I tell her, and lower my arm, squeezing my fingers into a fist. “But…what are you doing?”
“I came to find you. I’m…I’m…sorry I didn’t before. But I was…I mean, I am…”
“It’s okay,” I tell her.
“You’re really like me?” she asks, blue eyes glossy.
“Yes. I am. And my parents were killed the same way yours were. Mr. Trent has been after us for years. You need to get out,” I say, hoping I’m not overwhelming the poor girl but also knowing there’s a good chance she’s so mentally damaged she’ll go running back to Trent.
Hopefully with therapy she can get better and live a normal life again.
“I can get us out of here, but I need your help.”
“But Mr. Trent…he…he said he has control of the creatures.”
“They won’t hurt us,” I press, not wanting to tell her everything just in case she does go back. Psychological damage can run deep. I’ve seen it before from years on the force. Abusers manipulate and confuse their victims, making them believe they are nothing without them.
“Mr. Trent killed your parents too?”
“A demon killed mine.”
She slowly shakes her head. “You said they died the same way mine did.”
Should I tell her about demons now? Surely she knows. And really, are demons worse than Mr. Trent? “Their hearts were frozen from the inside out. And I remember the distinct smell of sulfur. That’s demonic.”
“Yes, it is,” she agrees. “But it wasn’t a demon. It’s Mr. Trent.”
“What?” My eyes widen. Trent killed my parents? Killed countless others? “How did he—” I cut off when the elevator at the end of the hall dings. I pull Rachel in and close the door. “We’ll come back to this. Right now, we need to find my friend and get out of here.”
“Your friend? You mean the creature?”
“His name is Jac. How well do you know your way around this place?”
“Not well,” she admits. “I’m not allowed to go anywhere but my room and I’m always escorted. We…we haven’t been here long either. Only a year. I think. Time…time just passes.”
“It’s okay. What level are we on?”
“Second from the top.”
“Okay.” I let out a shaky breath as my mind whirls. “Do you happen to know if there are businesses below us?”
“I think the floor right below is empty, but I know there are others. I overheard Mr. Trent talking about how he overcharges them for rent.”
“Of course he would. And that means he owns the building.” I look out the window, watching the city come to life with people scrambling to get to work on time, going about their business without the slightest idea of what’s going on fifteen stories above them. “What kind of powers do you have?”
“I don’t have any like yours,” she says. “I can do spells, and Mr. Trent usually gives me the spells to do.”
“And the others?”
“They’re upstairs in their rooms. Two boys and two girls. All younger than me.”
“Do they have powers?”
Rachel shakes her head. “One of the boys is good with crystal magic, and the youngest girl has made the lights go out when she’s upset before. She’s only eight.”
My stomach churns. Mr. Trent obviously didn’t send me all the files. He’s killed more people in an attempt to build a magical army for himself.
“Do you think you could get them all in one room and do some sort of protection spell?”
“There’s a guard upstairs.”
“Just one?”
“Yes. He’s armed and will tase us if we step out of line.”
“Leave him to me. I’ll cause enough of a distraction down here to get him to come running. Then take all the kids and go into one of the rooms. Close the door, and if you all work together on the spell, it should hold long enough.”
“Long enough for what?”
“Long enough for me to come back and get you all out.”
Rachel doesn’t seem convinced, but she nods. “I’ll try.”
“You’re a strong witch,” I tell her. “That spell you did at my house was impressive. Painful, but impressive.”
“I’m sorry about that. She told me you would attack us first. She said you were a bad witch.”
“She?”
“Another witch.” Rachel casts her eyes down. “I always got a bad feeling around her.”
“Who is she? Is she here?”
“She works with Mr. Trent sometimes. I think she’s the one who told him about you and the creatures of the night.”
“Melissa.”
“Yes.” Rachel’s eyes narrow. “You know her?”
“Unfortunately. She’s tried to kill me before. Tried and failed.” Dammit. I knew she wouldn’t just go running with her tail tucked between her legs. She wants blood, and now she’s going to get it. “Don’t worry about her, okay? I can handle it. Do you happen to know if she’s here?”
Rachel shakes her head. “I’ve only seen her a few times. The kids are scared of her.”
“Rightly so. She’s a bad witch. If you see her, though…pretend like you don’t know, okay?”
Rachel’s starting to look more and more terrified. “Okay.”
I put my hand on her arm and she flinches from the touch. “You’re going to be okay,” I try to soothe. “We’re going to get out of here. No one will control you again. No one will make you hurt others anymore.”
She blinks away tears and nods. I peek outside the door again. Whoever got off the elevator went the opposite way.
“Where is Mr. Trent’s office?”
She points to the elevator. “Two rooms down from that. It’s always locked, though.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. Go now, and act like nothing happened. You never saw me. When you hear the guard running, get the kids.”
With another nod, she hurries down the hall. I pull the key ring from my jeans pocket and hold it splayed on my palm, holding my other hand above it.
“Reveal,” I say, and one of the keys glows bright yellow for a split second. I grab the key, silently moving the others to the side, and close my hand around them all to keep them from jingling as I move.
Then I dash out into the hall, moving as fast as I can, not stopping until I get to Mr. Trent’s office.
I try the door first just in case it’s not locked, but it is.
Quickly, I stick the key in the lock and open the door.
I half expect an alarm to sound, and am a little surprised when one doesn’t.
Though I suppose it’s not surprising that Mr. Trent is such a cocky asshole he thinks he’s invincible.
The office smells like a bonfire, and the hardwood under my feet feels soggy.
The window, broken from Jacques barreling in, has been boarded up.
Large fans are on the floor, blowing out cool air, and a dehumidifier sits in the center of the room.
It’s loud in here, making it impossible for me to know if anyone is coming.
Most of Mr. Trent’s prized possessions were ruined when I set fire to the bookshelf, and finding the amulet is a long shot.
I know I dropped it near the desk. I think. Maybe? Everything seems like a blur when I think back. Gauzy drapes have been drawn over the windows, but it’s still light enough in here to see. I rush over to the desk, finding a few of the salvaged items laid out and resting on folded towels to dry.
There’s a dagger—the one that asshole threw at me and ended up damaging—a book, and a little wooden box.
I pick up the dagger, inspecting the blade.
It’s still sharp and will work. The book is written in what looks like Arabic maybe?
Turning around to face the bookshelves, I comb through the remaining items for anything helpful.
Most of this stuff looks like museum pieces, and while I’m sure they all hold potent magic, I’m not sure what they’ll do. Better leave them here than open Pandora’s Box or something.
“All right, asshole…where the fuck are you?” I set the dagger on top of the desk and open the top drawer.
It’s locked, of course, but it doesn’t take much to force it open.
I riffle through the contents, finding notebooks, a box of photos, pens, and a ton of gum wrappers.
I move on to the next drawer, and have a harder time with the lock.
Using the dagger, I try to pry the drawer open, pulling as hard as I can.
The handle comes off, and I fall back, hitting the bookshelf and triggering some sort of trap door to slide open.
“Holy shit,” I mumble, grabbing the dagger again. The door opened up, revealing a small cast iron spiral staircase. There are no lights in this little room, so I summon a small flame and hold my hand out in front of me like a torch.
Holding the dagger at my side, I slowly climb up the stairs, pausing at the top of the landing.
Light spills in under the door, and I put out the fire and lean in, listening to Mr. Trent talk to Jacques.
He’s figuring out fast that Jac has an extensive knowledge of the supernatural, and is getting excited about everything he thinks he’s going to be able to steal.
“I have a long list of items I need to procure. Some are for myself, of course, and others are to be sold to the highest bidder. There’s a witch named Melissa, who I believe you’ve met before.
She also is in the market for a few particular items. And as you are under my control, you will assist her as well,” Mr. Trent says to Jacques, and my blood boils thinking about him using Jac and the rest of the guys to do his bidding.
I know the joke is on him because he has no control over them, but he’s such a fucking dick.
Dark magic aside, I can’t stand the guy.
The anger surging through me makes sparks fly from my hands. I need to get a handle on my powers.
I close my eyes, inhale, and grit my teeth.
I’m calm and zen…oh, this is fucking bullshit.
Opening my eyes, I shake my head. I want to storm in there, throw a fireball at Mr. Trent’s annoyingly handsome face, and make a run for it, getting the kids on our way out.
I hold out my hand, ready to summon the fire, but stop.
Because I feel them, just like I did before.
Their presence is just as strong, making me think the curse didn’t break for them, but there’s no other way they could be here in the daylight.
I silently slip back down the cast iron staircase, not summoning the fire this time.
I’m totally blind for a few steps, and then light from the dim office lights my way.
I pause at the bottom, looking out into the office.
With all the noise from the fans and the dehumidifier, I can’t be sure if the office is empty or not.
I hold my hand out in front of me, ready to conjure a fireball if need be, and move against the wall, hiding from sight. I don’t hear anyone, and after another few seconds, I dart out. The doors are still closed and I’m still alone.
Rushing over to the window, I grab the board that’s been put up to close off the broken glass.
Not letting myself even think about my slight fear of heights—or, more accurately, my fear of plummeting down fifteen or so stories to my death—I give the board a yank.
Without magic, there’s no way I could have pulled it off.
But I summon a strength I didn’t know I had and pull the board off.
I fall back, and the board lands on top of me.
It hurts, but at least it muffles the sound.
I move out from underneath it and slowly move to the window, stepping away from the missing windowpane, and look at the horizon.
If the curse broke for Jacques, did it break for the others? They can’t fly…so how am I feeling them getting closer and closer?
And then I see it. A blue sedan following a police car. The lights and sirens aren’t on, but I know it’s them. It’s Hasan, Tom, and Gil, coming to rescue me.