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 feelthem, 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.
