Then I let go.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, bringing my hands to his face.
“Yes. You…you should take more.”
“That’s more than enough,” I say, though I know I’m far from being able to fight. “I’m still counting on running on adrenaline when push comes to shove anyway.”
He gives me a small smile. “That’s the Ace I know.” The smile disappears from his face. “Someone’s coming down the hall.”
“You can hear that?”
He nods and slowly moves away. “Be ready,” he says, and picks up the rocks again. I hold mine in my hand and lie back down, pretending to be dead. I listen as hard as I can but can’t hear anyone out in the hall. As a gargoyle, the guys had better-than-human hearing. They could see in the dark as well.
Did some of the powers remain?
The door opens and Mr. Trent steps in. “What the—where are your wings?”
“I take on a human form during the day,” Jacques says. My hair is over my face, covering me enough to be able to slit my eyes open and watch what’s going on.
Jacques is by the window, looking down at the city.
“But once the sun sets, you’re a monster again, correct?” Mr. Trent asks.
“Yes. Your monster.”
“I see you took care of the witch.”
“Yes.” Jacques lowers his head.
“Good. Now, follow me. We have much to do before I send you out tonight.”
“Out?” Jacques questions.
“Yes. Out. You are under my control now and will do what I say whether you like it or not. Now come with me.”
Jacques twitches, acting as if he’s trying to resist Mr. Trent’s orders. He strides past me, going to the door.
“Get rid of the body,” Mr. Trent says to someone. “Shame she was so difficult. Powers like hers could have really come in handy.”
“You never could have controlled her,” Jacques snaps.
“I know,” Mr. Trent says. “Hence why I ordered you to kill her.” His voice gets quieter as he moves out of the room. I lie still, waiting and holding my breath. Charles comes into the room, muttering to himself about doing all of Mr. Trent’s dirty work. He drops a brand-new blue tarp on the ground, still folded-up and wrapped in plastic. He puts on rubber gloves, and I know this isn’t the first time he’s disposed of a body for Mr. Trent.
Carefully, I start bringing my arm up while Charles’s back is turned. He drops a bottle of bleach onto the floor and lets out a sigh, sounding annoyed.
“At least there’s not much blood,” he mutters to himself, turning back around. I freeze, holding my breath and trying as hard as I can to ignore the stabbing pain it’s causing my lungs.
He crouches down, picking up the tarp and opening the packaging. As he lays it down next to me, I squeeze my eyes shut, pull in as much energy as I can, and spring up.
“What the hell?” Charles exclaims, falling backwards and landing on his ass. Fire surrounds both my hands, and the piece of stone closed in my grasp glows red with heat.
“Like I said.” I take a step closer to him and he tries to scramble away. “You guys messed with the wrong witch.”
I reach forward with my free hand, bringing the flames closer and closer to his face. Right before the fire touches his flesh and burns him, I close my fist and put out the flames. I’m low on energy, hurting bad, and won’t be able to hold my own in my current condition.
I put my hand on top of Charles’s head and pull from his energy. He reaches up, trying to swat me away. I bring my other hand—the one still surrounded by fire—closer.
“Flinch and I’ll burn you,” I say through gritted teeth. Whimpering, he falls still and I pull in more energy. His body starts to slump down but I don’t stop, not until I can take in a breath and feel no pain.
Charles’s eyes flutter, and he feebly attempts to reach a walkie-talkie clipped to his belt. I swat his hand away and lower him to the ground.
“Sleep,” I say, knowing he’s so depleted of energy he has no other choice. I take the walkie-talkie from his belt and reach inside his jacket, finding a key ring. “Okay,” I say, and step back. I put out the fire in my other hand and set down the rock, which is still glowing red.
I cover Charles with the tarp and edge toward the door. I’m not exactly sure where I am, and I don’t know the layout of this place. I need to stop, think, and come up with a plan, but I also don’t have that sort of time. Someone will find out I’m alive sooner rather than later.
The doorknob rattles. Well, shit. I guess sooner is happening right now.
