Alister
I glare at the screen, my eyes scanning the feed from the collection room. Stephanie and the others are visible, but Clara is nowhere to be seen. The only indication of her presence is the sound of her controlled gasps for air. "She shouldn't have gone inside." We had discussed the plan, and all we needed was to know how to access the entrance.
Zach's voice breaks into my thoughts. "Well, the door requires a keycard. She wouldn't have been able to open it herself after they left." He spins around in his chair as he continues to monitor the feed.
The two unconscious security guards lie motionless on the floor beside him. The glasses on the desk near the keyboard stand empty.
I shoot Zach a withering glare. "Trust me, I could think of a million ways we could have swiped that card off of him. We don't need your blind optimism right now."
His expression remains calm, but he lets out a disappointed sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly. "It's not blind optimism. People are tougher and more adaptable than you think. Have a little faith in her. She can do this." He offers a reassuring thumbs-up, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he attempts to lighten the mood.
It's not about faith. It's the gems effect that I'm worried about. The breathlessness mixed with the sleep deprivation... it's a potent cocktail that could prove disastrous. I'm surprised she hasn't fainted yet.
Simon types away on the computer, his eyes fixed on the screen. "What was her plan exactly?" he asks. "The goblet is probably in the cabinet. And it's locked by the looks of it. Is she going to open it while they're in the room?"
"It...must be torture for...you to not be here, huh, Alister?" Clara's voice whispers into our earpieces.
"I don't know what you're doing." I say as I look around the room through the monitor for any sign of her. "But you need to hide and stop using your power. It's having an effect on you, just like it did for me."
The idiot doesn't answer me, and instead I hear Ken beginning to talk again.
"Need me to go in?"
I glance back at Lev, his tall, imposing figure slouched in the corner, a quiet presence beneath the weight of his long black hair that cascades like a dark cloak around him. He looks almost serene in his brooding silence, but I know better.
He hasn't said a word since his talk with Clara. He's been sulking in a way that's almost unsettling. It's as if he's lost in thought, lost in whatever her words did to him.
Leora's voice interrupts the stillness, soft but insistent. "I told you. They're plotting something."
Of course, I knew Leora would lie to me—everything she says about Clara is a half-truth at best. The recorder Simon and I installed in the device proves to be more useful than I imagined.
Still, I wasn't expecting Clara to play Lev like this. Trying to make him complacent? I can see it now—the subtle push she gave him, a gentle manipulation disguised as kindness. I wonder just how much of her charm has taken hold of him.
"No." I turn towards him and walk upto him. "Not until I say so."
He doesn't meet my gaze, but his body tenses.
I smirk, crouching down in front of him and turning off the earpiece "Still sulking?" I whisper. "Are you upset she didn't seem as gullible and naive as you thought? I did say if you could convince her to let you go, I wouldn't stop."
His glare intensifies, the fire in his eyes burning even more as my grin widens. "Not only did she not agree to you," I continue, "she didn't even meet up."
A slow smile creeps onto Lev's lips as he leans forward. "I know," he murmurs. "But I'm sure she'll find time for me soon enough." His words are deliberate, each one a calculated twist to my patience. "Maybe she'll even listen to me more than she does to you, glasses."
I make sure to press the button for 3 seconds as I stand up and turn on the earpiece, leaving him twitching to the sting of electricity.
"Simon. Is there a different lock or anything inside the room? Like if someone wants to get out?" I ask as I get back to the desk. He looks up, presses a button, and zooms the camera on the entrance.
"No, it's the same lock," he says with a frown. I feel a surge of anxiety as Clara's breathing becomes more labored. Even Zach's carefree demeanor falters—he stops spinning in his chair, his eyes fixed on the screen.
I'm about to ask him to do something, but he's already moving. He rises from his seat, cracking his knuckles as he heads out of the room, his jaw set with determination. It appears he isn't a blind optimist afterall.
Then Simon's voice pierces through the room. "Clara!"
My eyes snap back to the screen. I see her kneeling in front of the cabinet, her hands reaching out to touch the lock. But then, she flinches, probably realizing she isn't invisible anymore. Her body recoils in fear as she scrambles to hide behind a nearby display case table.
My eyes bulge in alarm as I see Ken turn towards where she was. "Calm down," I tell her, trying to keep my voice steady, but I'm not sure Clara can hear me.
I take a step away from the monitors towards the door. "I'm going out there," I announce and look down at Lev, who's staring at the screens. "Transform."
While he turns back into a bird, Simon's hand shoots out, grasping my arm and holding me back.
His eyes are wide with fear, his face pale. "Wait, what if someone comes in here?" he asks, his voice trembling with concern. "I can't do all this and fight off anyone. Zach already went. You don't need to go."
I resist the urge to click my tongue in frustration and instead gently pry his fingers loose from my arm. "Just lock the door, and if anyone comes, call out." I tap the earpiece, "Right now, Zach is going to lead the group out of there. Since he'll be with them, I need to go and get Clara from the room. She can't get out without the key."
Understanding finally dawns on Simon's face. He takes a deep breath, and reaches for his metal taser, gripping it tightly.
"Keep that with you at all times when you're with us." I point to his taser. "Remember to hold onto it tightly."
"Sorry, you're right," he says finally. I turn to put the gag on Lev, but he backs away a little.
"Can you not? It's very uncomfortable, and I promise I won't do anything."
I frown, grabbing him and putting it on. "Why would I care about your comfort?"
Racing out the door, I sprint down the hallway, making it towards the entrance hall. Lev flies high above near the ceiling.
"Zach, where are you?" I ask through the earpiece.
No one is allowed upstairs at the moment. Zach must have made the excuse that he's getting Ken and his group. I won't be allowed up without raising suspicion.
I tilt my head up and give a subtle gesture. Lev responds instantly, swooping down towards the two staff members stationed at the base of the staircase.
One of them yelps, ducking instinctively as Lev grazes his head, talons missing but close enough to draw panic. The second swats at him, but Lev darts just out of reach, then loops around and makes another aggressive pass. Their shouts echo across the lobby, drawing attention away from the staircase.
"Get it out of here!" one of them yells, stumbling backward, nearly knocking over a decorative vase.
With their backs turned, I seize the opening and slip up the staircase, shoes silent on the carpeted steps. I take them two at a time.
"Still on the top floor." Zach whispers, and I can hear faint sounds from the background.
"This stupid mission of yours is doomed to fail" Leora's voice coiled around my thoughts like a serpent, her tone laced with amusement. "I told you so. You shouldn't have involved those minions of yours, and you definitely should have killed that bird."
She's been really talkative and condescending.
Another reason for keeping Lev is because I don't trust Leora. She is upto something. Her slowly regaining power can't be a good sign. If I can keep her from acting out, using Lev as a hostage that I'll release if she tries anything funny, it could perhaps work out. But that doesn't stop Leora from criticizing me.
She likes confusing me. People tend to act on their instincts or emotions when they are unable to decide or comprehend something. She wants me in that state, and I have no intention of entertaining her.
I suddenly hear the sound of a muffled scream from the earpiece and almost pause. "Clara?"
She doesn't reply. Her panicked cries rasp against the earpiece, soft at first—smothered, as though she has her hand clamped over her own mouth—but they grow more ragged.
"What's happening to her?" I ask the witch as I quicken my pace.
"She poured a drop of blood into the Healer's goblet and drank it. The side effect is the intense pain" Leora answers, sounding bored.
I reach the fourth floor, my senses on high alert as I scan the area for any sign of the group. My eyes lock onto their shadows, cast against the floor as they prepare to round the corner and enter the hallway to my right. They're heading straight for the staircase. Towards me.
Spotting a nearby room. I slip inside, closing the door just enough to create a narrow slit through which I can observe the hallway. The room itself is dark, and from the faint outlines, I can see that it's a bedroom. I press myself against the door, holding my breath as I wait.
"Which pocket?" I whisper into the earpiece, my voice barely audible.
Stephanie's response is equally quiet. "Left one on his coat."
I focus on the hallway, watching as the group rounds the corner and walks into view. "Let me tell you, you should have been there," Ken says, his voice booming down the hallway. "Their mimosas were seriously the best I've ever had."
Zach is walking ahead of the group, his face calm, and Stephanie, meanwhile, is busy keeping Ken's attention focused on her, laughing and smiling as she chats with him.
I take a deep breath, focusing my mind on activating my ability. I focus on the tip of the card poking out of Ken's pocket. I lift my hand, and it slowly rises from his pocket and shoots into my hand like a magnet. I clutch it between two fingers as I wait for them to go downstairs.
I push open the door and make sure I'm alone. Then I take off in a sprint. My footsteps echo off the walls as I run down the hallway towards the corner. I round the bend, my heart pounding in my chest, and make a beeline for the library door at the end of the hall.
"As soon as I get her out, everyone move out." I say as I open the door to the library. "Simon, make sure to take care of all loose ends."
"Roger." He replies.
I reach the door and push it open. Turning on the lights, I move swiftly towards the lamp.
After scanning the card on the scanner, I hear a beep sound and turn to face the shelf. A section of the wall slides open, the shelf pulling out to reveal the hidden room.
Clara stepped into the light with the poise of someone who should have been radiant, but all that finery only made the wreck of her face more brutal to look at. Her eyes, swollen, latched onto mine instantly. Black mascara, smudged, carved mournful rivers down her cheeks.
"What happened?" I ask.
She huffed a laugh and dismissively waved a hand as if the whole crying and screaming was just an act. "I just wanted to check if the goblet wasn't a fake."
Her gaze flicked briefly to her thigh. "It was real and it healed that wound I had. But it felt like my veins were detonating one by one. It's over now."
"Recklessness must be your middle name," I managed to say, glaring at her when she closed the door, the words coming out rougher than I intended.
She doesn't look like someone who regretted her actions. If anything, she's smirking, amused by my frustration, as if she had wanted me to come for her. As if, despite everything, she knew I would.
"How can I deprive you of the chance to play knight in shining armor." She comments, causing me to roll my eyes.
Still, my gaze lingered on the trails staining her skin—two streaks down one cheek, three on the other. Uneven. I don't think I'm obsessive, but the asymmetry dug under my skin like a needle.
Before I knew it, I'd closed the distance between us. Clara blinked as my hand caught her jaw, tilting her face up with a firmness that allowed no protest. Her breath hitched, surprise flashing in her tired eyes as my other hand slid into my pocket for the napkin.
"Did you get it?" I asked, dabbing and erasing the black smudges marring her face. I caught the way she shivered under my touch. How intriguing.
A flush rose to her face, blooming across her cheeks and creeping to the tips of her ears. Her lashes dipped low, her gaze darting anywhere but mine. "Y-yeah," she stammered, the single syllable clumsy and unconvincing. "Strapped it to my leg."
I trust you completely.
I'm still not sure if it was all an act to get some reaction out of me or if those were her actual feelings, ut the words linger like a pressed flower between the pages of a tattered book—out of place and kept for unknown reasons. I tell myself it's foolishness. But there's a part of me that won't let go of them. That holds on, the way one might hold a memory of spring in the dead of winter.
I suddenly find myself taking a step closer. Just a step. But she steps back, a flash of confusion darting across her face, and I freeze, lowering my hands.
Then, through the door, Lev swoops into the room, flapping his wings wildly. We both flinch, startled, before recognition settles in.
He lands on Clara's shoulder, nuzzling the side of her face. Instead of throwing him away, she smiles and gently pats him. I can only glare at him and wait. Wait for him to fly off, and when he does, I'll take the satisfaction of shocking him back into his rightful place.
"Let's go," I turn toward the door. Lev, the sly bastard takes flight before I can act, landing on my shoulder instead, his beady eyes glinting mischievously. He knows exactly what I was about to do to him. "Why didn't you go to Simon?" I ask.
"He was worried about me." I hear Clara say as she follows me. Lev nods his head and I roll my eyes again.
"You'll have to stay invisible until we get out. It won't be long, so just bare with it." I say as we exit the room.
"How weak do you think I am?" She answers, and when I look back, she isn't there.
"Have you deleted all the camera footage?" She asks Simon.
"Yup. I'm packing up now." He replies.
As I walk, I suddenly start to feel a glitch in my vision.
No...not again...not now!
I blink, and when I open my eyes again, I'm standing in a completely different location.
I find myself standing at the edge of a building, the setting sun on my back, looking down at the bustling street below. The wind whips through my hair, and my stomach lurches at the sheer height.
My gaze remain fixed on the road below. I feel a wave of revulsion wash over me, taking a step back from the edge, closing my eyes, and snapping the rubber band on my wrist once, twice, thrice.
Snap out of it. It's just a hallucination.
"Ouch!"
I open my eyes. I'm back in the mansion, standing at the top of the stairs.
Ting!
I look down at the stairs. My heart skips a beat as I gaze at the golden goblet.
Ting!
Time seems to stop while it rolls down the stairs, striking each step loudly. The sound echoes throughout the space.
Ting! Ting!
I watch as it falls to the bottom of the stairs and rolls towards an expensive-looking shoe.
"Sh*t" Clara says from behind me, and from the sound of it, she's lying on the floor. She fell. Because of me.
Ken and the others, including Zach and Stephanie, all stare up at us with wide eyes, all displaying the same expressions.
Shock and horror.