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?”
