Page 65 of Dark Soul

Suddenly, there was a loud crash—it sounded like it came from the room next door.

“What the hell is that?” The newcomer was already by the door. Through the crack between the screens, Alexia caught sight of polished black shoes, slim black dress pants and curly blond hair.

Instants later, they were gone.

Alexia held the position a moment longer, then stood up, her leg muscles crying out for relief. She hobbled towards the desk—just as a shadow appeared by the window.

Alexia jumped back, forgetting her legs were in no shape to hold her. Her left leg crumpled, throwing her against the desk. Alexia raised her hands to protect her face, but the corner of the desk rose too fast, smacking her in the temple.

She saw a shadow beside her, and then she didn’t see anything else.

* * *

Dark

"What the fuck is happening, Rogue?” Dark asked, fairly vibrating with fear. He’d locked himself in one of the downstairs bathrooms, since he couldn’t very well stand out there talking to himself.

Sheer will kept him in the bathroom, when every instinct he had was telling him to bulldozer his way upstairs and storm into Kvyat’s office. Sheer will, and the knowledge that he could get his team and Alexia killed.

But he had to get Alexia out of there.

“Wait, Dark. Wait.”

And he recognized the wisdom in Rogue’s words.

Wait.

Because if Alexia’s the fixer, then the only thing you’ll manage by running in there half-cocked is to get yourself and your teammates killed.

Dark dug his nails into his palms.

No.

It was getting hard to breathe.

She’s not the fixer.

She can’t be.

And then Rogue’s voice was back. “Something’s happening, Dark.”

Dark didn’t even bother articulating the question. Rogue knew he was listening.

“Kvyat’s main security guy just led a man up the stairs and into Kvyat’s office.”

“Fuck.” That was Griffin’s voice, coming from inside the van they’d parked outside. “Rogue, your facial recognition software just picked up someone. But it’s not possible. It can’t be. ”

“Who?” Dark asked. He wasn’t in the mood to play games.

“A ghost,” Griffin said. “Vincent Lemercier. A man who’s been dead for years. I think we found our fixer, Dark.”

“Tall and slim? With curly blond hair?” Rogue asked quietly.

“Bingo,” Griffin replied.

“That’s the man I just saw walk into Kvyat’s office.”

And Alexia is in there with him.