38. Thea

Chapter 38

Thea

T hea shook the effects off from the drift, grateful her wild magic had calmed enough that she could call it. As soon as she appeared before the hospital, she was already moving. Running on autopilot as she climbed the stairs, too impatient for the lift. The corridors were all similar, posters of fake smiles repeated on white walls, haunting her until she found her father's ward.

Dread rose, and it didn't matter how many times she tried to call, her sister wouldn't pick up.

Molly:

Get to the hospital.

That was the only text she'd received. Dated only five minutes ago, and yet her sister wouldn't pick up the bloody phone. With her heart in her throat, she reached the correct room, the bed empty and the sheets neatly pressed.

She'd been too late.

"Excuse me." Thea caught the arm of a passing nurse, fighting back tears. "Can you tell me where Ayden Hart is?"

The nurse looked down at her clipboard. " Are you family?"

Thea swallowed. "Daughter."

"Mr Hart's been moved back home to receive hospice care."

"Home?" Thea parroted, her arm shaking before she released her death grip on the nurse's poor arm. "He's been sent home?"

"Yes, earlier this morning." Her eyes dipped to Thea's torn shirt. "Oh honey, have you been hurt?"

Thea dropped her gaze, thinking her stitches had opened. But other than dried blood, she was fine. "No, I'm okay. I just…"

Her phone buzzed.

Molly:

Turn around.

She followed the instructions, freezing when she spotted Roach standing only a few feet away. She wore an eyepatch, her dark hair tied back from her face. Red sores spotted her cheeks and forehead, the skin surrounding painfully cracked.

"Thank you for your help," Thea murmured, dismissing the nurse.

Roach stepped back into the corridor, and Thea couldn't help but follow.

"Where is it?" Roach spat, keeping her tone low.

"You stole Molly's phone?" The earlier panic had swelled into rage. "How did you even know my dad was here? What the fuck's wrong with you?"

"It was fake," Roach explained, her face pale when she grabbed onto Thea's arm. "Now tell me where the document is, Swiper. I need it; you have no idea what you've done."

"What I've done?" Thea had to drop her voice to barely above a whisper. "I asked you to help because I trusted you, and then you bloody stabbed me!"

"There's no such thing as trust, not when it comes to my life against yours." Roach peered over Thea's shoulder. "He needs that document, and he's not going to stop until he gets it."

Thea went to turn, but Roach's nails dug in.

"He's offered us money, more money than we could ever dream of. It'll set us both up for life, and all he wants is that fucking page."

"Let go of me." The hair on her nape stood on end. "Seriously, let the fuck – "

Roach released her grip when Thea pulled, but as she stumbled back, she met something solid. Before she could scream, a hand pressed against her mouth, and her front was shoved against the wall.

"You don't have a choice," Roach added, her eyes darting to whoever was at her back. "Now, where is it?"

Thea bit at the hand over her mouth, tasting blood. But there was no reaction, no groan of pain or even acknowledgment of the bite.

Please, please, please, she begged her wild magic. She could feel it pulsate beneath her skin, but unable to drift. She just needed her pulse to calm, to fight the growing panic until she could…

She drifted a few feet away, her entire body groaning at the effort. There was a second when she met the widened eyes of Roach, surprise likely echoed on her own face until the person who grabbed her twisted.

It was a Skull, his face charmed into its terrifying appearance. No one else seemed to acknowledge him, the nurses, doctors and patients walking past as if he didn't even exist. He held her in place with his eyes, so dark she wasn't even sure if they weren't empty sockets. Shadows carved harsh lines in his face, the cheekbones sharp and jawline defined. Grooves were indented over his lips, highlighting the teeth beneath in such detail she could almost see them.

Fear was a bitter taste, a coldness seeping into her bones as she stood like a statue, unmoving as he approached. Despite the space, she could feel his breath, ice shards against her skin. His hand reached out, skeletal fingers grabbing…

Someone jostled her, breaking her out of the strange thrall. Her wild magic hummed inside her head, the drum beat violent. Wild magic was usually unpredictable, fluid in its power. But right then it was surging, as if sensing the imminent danger.

What the fuck?

Unable to control a drift, Thea ran, not daring to look back. Her phone creaked in her hand, held tight as she manoeuvred around people without crashing. She threw herself at the double doors, taking the stairs down two at a time.

A wail echoed, the emergency alarm asking everyone to evacuate immediately.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Scrambling on her phone, she tried to call Jax. But as her wild magic was pulsating, it was interfering. "The one time I actually want you to find me," she muttered, shoving the phone into the waistband of her leggings.

"Stop running!" Roach leaned over the top banister, white lights flashing behind her. "Don't make me do this!"

Thea looked back over her shoulder, only to find Roach right there. How was she moving so fast?

"He's not going to stop."

Two floors, then three. Each door she tried was locked, the alarm increasing until Roach had to shout above the noise .

"Please, Swiper. Just give me the document. He already has the other two, and he won't stop until he gets the last."

Two? she thought. He was only supposed to have one.

Thea finally reached the bottom floor, the room beyond empty. The sign read PATHOLOGY LAB , and with as much strength as she could Thea rammed herself against the door. Except it didn't budge.

"Fuck!" she cursed, finding Roach on the last step. "I promise you, I don't have it."

Come on! she thought, imagining Jax's room. She felt the usual swell of a drift, only for it to fizzle out.

Roach stepped closer, her expression manic.

Thea tried the door behind her again, pressing against the bar. "Seriously, I don't have it anymore." Trying to calm herself, she looked through the glass, concentrating on the room.

Desk. Computer. Weird machinery.

She had to picture the exact image she needed to drift, a shorter distance that she may be able to reach.

Come on. Come on. Come on, she chanted, ignoring the panic to focus.

Desk. Computer. Weird machinery. Black chair. White tiles.

Thea blinked, finding herself on the other side of the door.

"Swiper!" Roach smashed her fist against the window.

The alarm continued to shriek, the entire lab empty. Evacuated. Which meant there had to be another exit.

She could no longer feel her wild magic, the hum of the drum beat muted. Gone. She couldn't even feel the mating bond as exhaustion waved heavily.

She rubbed her hand across her heart at the loss, her movements jagged. She'd pushed herself too far. It was like a weight had settled in her bones, and she had to take a moment to just breathe.

There was a flash of dark red, wood splintering as a ball of arcane blasted through the stairwell door. The magic crashed against the wall, splintering on impact. Thea's eyes immediately began to sting, smoke billowing as the surrounding furniture caught alight. Water erupted from the sprinklers, fighting against the growing fire.

Coughing into her hand, Thea ran, moving past the strange machines, desks and little glass vials.

Heat tickled against her back, crackling of flames that had begun to eat across the floor, winning against the water. Glass popped, plastic creaking.

"This is your last warning."

Thea growled in frustration, turning to find Roach with a blond-haired man, his irises red. Fire roared behind her, a viscous wall of yellow and orange.

Roach pursed her lips, dark hair slick to her face. "You should never have accepted the job." The Daemon at her back reached over to grip her shoulder, arcane encasing his other arm.

"How am I supposed to get it if you kill me?" Thea hissed, having to block her eyes from the torrential spray of the sprinklers.

"Don't worry," she said. "He won't let you die."

The air shifted, and they both disappeared with a distinctive pop, the fire immediately eating away at the place they'd just stood.

The smoke thickened until it obscured her vision, forcing her to drop lower. Coughing, she followed the wall until she found the emergency exit, able to push the door open as heat licked at her heels.

"So," a deep voice grumbled. "This is the thief that took my document. "

Thea froze, still on her hands and knees. The man's face was square, jawline sharp with a distinctive nose and pinched, red eyes. Black hair hung thick to his waist, perfectly straight and seemingly untouched by the water that continued to shower them both. But what surprised her was his leather coat, long enough to brush the floor against his large frame, and as dark as his hair.

"They call me Gideon," he continued, appraising her from the tip of her boots to the soaking wet strands of her silver hair. "You taste of fear."

He took a step closer, and Thea shrank back when his fingers trailed along her cheekbone to touch the tip of her pointed ear.

"I need that document," he said, his voice strangely calm.

"I don't have it," she croaked, unable to move. Fire teased her back, and Gideon stood at her front. "I gave it away."

Gideon knelt before her, and she felt pinned to the spot. "You don't have a choice."