37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Whoops. I’d used a little too much anger. I hadn’t wanted to set the whole building on fire, only to set off the fire alarm; I’d wanted a distraction, not a catastrophe.

The desk I’d aimed at flamed high and burned hot. I moved the rest of the desks away a little so it wouldn’t spread easily and then I slipped out. Even as I closed the door, the fire alarm started to blare. I slipped into the toilets to wait for the building to be evacuated.

Connor and the other supernats would probably be evacuated, too, but they’d come to me as soon as they could slip away unnoticed. I headed straight to the basement – and hopefully to Margi.

I kept my eyes peeled, but I’d waited long enough and the building was empty. Sirens wailed in the distance so it wouldn’t be long until the fire brigade arrived. I needed to be quick. I sprinted down the hall. All the doors had closed when the alarm had triggered, but no one was around to lock the door into the offices. I opened one and ran the short distance to the back door then looked for something to prop it open for Connor and Sidnee.

I didn’t have anything but my phone so I slipped into an office and stole a bright-red stapler from the desk and stuck it between the door and the jamb, leaving about an inch and a half opening. Perfect.

Between the fire brigade’s imminent arrival and the risk to Margi’s life, I couldn’t wait for backup. The basement door stared at me. This time, though, I cared not a whit about being discovered since this whole thing was clearly going full Armageddon. I didn’t bother with a spell. I grabbed the door and ripped through the lock and tore the door off two hinges. Whoa. Vamp strength with a little adrenaline, and I was the Hulk.

Door battered open, I raced down the steps as silently as I could. If I was right and Eben was human, he probably wouldn’t hear me over the noise of the fire alarm and the plant equipment – but there was always the chance he wasn’t alone.

I peered down the corridor but I couldn’t see anyone. What if I was wrong about where Margi was being held? What if they’d taken her to another waterfront building? Crap on a cracker.

I raced to the bottom of the steps and peered through the door. I still couldn’t see anyone but I could hear Eben’s voice. I’d guessed right. Fist pump.

‘You witches – so powerful.’ He spat out the last word sarcastically with a hefty dose of malice. ‘Let’s see you do magic now, huh? You can't, can you?’

I didn’t hear a reply and my gut knotted in fear. Was Margi still alive? There were very few reasons – death, exhaustion or magic-cancelling cuffs – why a witch wouldn’t be able to access her magic and I prayed for the latter. I needed to hear another ‘good gravy’ or ‘holy smokes’ fall from Margi’s lips. She was such a golden soul that she didn’t even swear. If anyone deserved to live through this, it was her.

I crouched down and eased forward, slowly.

‘You have to use your hands, don’t you?’ Eben sneered. ‘And they’re bound and unavailable. Boo-hoo.’ He laughed.

Hmm. I didn’t have to use my hands for my magic and I doubted Margi did either, so what was he talking about? Margi was a water witch and the pipes around here were full of water. Why hadn’t she taken him out?

I crawled on my belly under the pipes until I could see their feet. Eben was pacing, but Margi was in a chair with restraints around her feet and a used syringe on the ground. That damned somnum drug – if Eben had used that, Margi probably wasn’t even conscious. So why was he talking to her? If he was in the middle of his villain’s soliloquy, I was going to use his distraction to beat some sense into him.

Thorsen had said he’d seen both of them a while earlier. If he’d been telling the truth – which I wasn’t certain about – and if the drug worked the same on witches as it did shifters, Margi would probably be out for at least a couple more hours. That felt like a lot of ifs.

The syringe contents were bluish, like the one used on Danny. I wanted to sigh with relief but I held it back; there was no point in announcing my presence, though Eben seemed to be talking to himself. That was supposedly the first sign of madness, though I doubted he’d love it if I pointed that out.

He continued, ‘I’m so glad I don’t have to pretend to be one of you anymore. I finally feel clean again. Sharing your air was making me feel sick.’

What a total wanker. He’d be damned lucky to be a real shaman. Anissa, the one I knew in Portlock, was one of the nicest people I’d met, much nicer than this prick.

I heard someone coming down the stairs behind me and something in me eased. Connor was finally on his way. Sliding back and standing up slowly and carefully so Eben wouldn’t see me, I turned to watch him come down the corridor. Relief and joy filled my sluggish heart.

Only it wasn’t Connor who stepped into sight. It was Lieutenant Fischer.

For once I was speechless; I had officially run out of expletives.