It’s Jude’s doing, so of course there would only be one spot to reach him, and it’s as obnoxious as ever.
Prying my eyes open, I give myself one extra moment to breathe in my surroundings before I head for the door. The sun hits my skin again the second I step outside, my pace quickening as I find the side street once more.
The brick wall turns to jelly against my touch, and with a blink, my surroundings change. Boulders stand on either side of me. Steep, sun-baked hills roll before me, dirt trails winding among the deep canyon cuts with a smattering of sagebrush and the occasional yuka plant breaking up the desert mountain terrain.
It’s remote and calm with a heavy layer of clouds dancing around me, a complete contrast to the residential streets below, but that’s not what I’m here for; it’s the whitewashed beacon that lures so many in.
The Hollywood sign.
Right there, in the thirdO, sits the key to my destination.
Unguarded and sitting in broad daylight.
I have to admit I’m slightly impressed with Jude’s lax hiding spot, but I only bask in the sentiment for a second before I charge toward it.
Thankfully, portal travel doesn’t leave me queasy as my surroundings change once again, revealing cobblestone grounds with marble lion statues framing a set of double doors. Candles flicker from every corner, lighting the space, and I hate to admit how nice it may be under any other circumstances.
Instead of lingering to appreciate the beauty that surrounds me, I take a deep breath and slink into the shadows, coasting through the double doors when I’m sure it’s clear, before drenching myself in my magic to blend in with the edges.
Closing my eyes, I search for the sound. It’s so loud I’m certain it’s coming from my thoughts. It’s close, but not quite that close. Letting the noise lure me closer, I continue down the corridor until it grows so loud it makes my fingers pulse.
I press my back against the wall, aware of the murmured voices coming from the next door on my left.
Letting my magic float around the edge of the frame, my chest clenches when I spot Elodie. Her hands are pressed against Jude’s chest as he kneels before her, grinning as she takes his magic. Elodie isn’t enjoying it, though. A moment later, her screams vibrate through the room, making my chest ricochet with panic as the other man in the room tries to break their connection.
Walker? That’s what she called him, right? The guy who returned her to Institute Thirteen when she tried to make a run for it.
Every fiber of my being screams to race into the room and free her from their clutches, or him from hers if I’m being specific, but deep in my gut, I know making my presence known won’t help. Jude got the better of me last time because I wanted to hide my magic, yet the second Elodie was in danger, I revealed myself, likely putting me on his radar too.
Pressing my palms against the wall, I sense the magic tingle along the surface, reminding me I’m in unfamiliar territory.
Fuck.
I have to stick to the stealthy option if I want to get her out of here safely.
Walker yanks hard enough this time, and Elodie’s limp body falls into his arms as Jude slumps back, the grin on his face growing. My nostrils flare with anger as I glare at him, watching as he slowly dusts himself off while he stands, staring at Elodie’s sleeping form like she hung the moon.
“Put her back in the healing tank, Walker,” he orders, straightening his jacket before he saunters toward me.
I rush to hide myself behind my shadow, letting it get so thin it replicates the wall behind me, hiding me in plain sight. Jude darts toward the left as soon as he steps out, not even botheringto look in my direction. I track his every move until he’s gone before turning my attention back to Elodie.
My eyes widen in surprise when I find her nestled in Walker’s arms as he heads out of the room and straight through the doorway across the hall. I can’t deny myself this time, following them into the room as he gently places her back into what I assume is the healing tank Jude mentioned.
I hate how gentle he is with her.
I hate how delicate she looks in his arms.
I hate how much I fucking care when I look at her.
I hate how much I want to slaughter every motherfucker in this place on her behalf.
But most of all, I hate how I have to play it safe, putting her needs before my own as I watch the slimy asshole close the lid on the tank and stalk back toward the door.
Hovering just inside the room, I give it a few moments before I dare to take a step, keeping my magic in place as I loom over her sleeping form. I reach for the latch on the tank, expecting an alarm to go off as I unclasp it, but to my surprise, nothing sounds when I do. It whooshes past my face as I open it fully, revealing Elodie to me in all of her pain and glory, and it makes my heart ache more than I can bring myself to admit.
Seconds drag by as I stare at her, my body desperate to move while my heart races to take in every inch of her. It’s not a dream this time. It’s real fucking life.
It’s also just a favor being fulfilled.
