I felt it then, too, a kind of restlessness that had nothing to do with the man standing between me and freedom. Scrambling to my feet, I peeked at the door around Aidan’s frame. It remained partially open, the edge digging into the guy on the floor. We—well, Aidan—should probably move him…oh, damn. I tried hard to keep my eyes focused on the door and not let them flicker between them or he’d know I had just realized something. Mostly, that if he dragged the body a bit farther in, I’d have no way to get out of his reach.
But maybe he didn’t need to, because the unease grew stronger the longer I stared at the hallway beyond the door. The lights were on, but the place was growing darker, as if something was slowly making its way along the corridor, sucking their glow.
“What is it?” I whispered.
Aidan glanced over his shoulder. “I’m not sure. But we shouldn’t be here when it arrives.”
I nodded toward Floor Guy. “What about him?”
“We’ll close the door behind him.”
“Why not close the door now?” My fingers itched to do just that. The corridor was starting to look like an open maw. Brightness from inside our room speared the wall across the door, but I realized with a start that our lights were starting to dim.
I’d read enough thrillers to know where this was going.
“Okay. How do we do it?” I asked, dropping the ball down the front of the tucked in t-shirt I wore under the sweatshirt. It settled somewhere near my hip. My pockets were too small and the waist of my jeans tight enough to prevent it from falling out. Aidan looked perplexed by what I’d just done. Did he really think I’d simply hand over the ball and throw myself at his mercy? “Well?”
He snapped out of it and held out his hand. Except he couldn’t, because he was at the edge of the binding spell’s range, so he took a step back and repeated the attempt. “Hold my hand. It should do it on its own.”
I eyed his hand warily. Big hand, elegant fingers. Interesting. “That easy?”
“A binding of this type is a game, not serious security.” He bit off the words like it was distasteful to be forced to explain things.
It didn’t matter, though, because I was a sponge for Fae information. I pounced greedily on his words. “The mischief is in seeing how others attempt to get rid of—or trick—their partners rather than in making it overly complicated,” I said with triumph.
“Take my damn hand.”
I gave him a fully-toothed grin and clasped it. His hand dwarfed mine, his skin warm in the chill of the room, his fingers strong as they curled around mine. The atmosphere in the room snapped again, and a small jolt of power passed between us, not unlike getting a shock of static electricity but a lot more pleasurable. I glanced up and found him looking at our hands with satisfaction.
“It’s done?” I asked, even though I knew it was. I needed to say something while I processed the excitement rushing through my veins. Sure, I knew I could theoretically activate artifacts or wards if I wanted to, and had handled real artifacts at Kane’s shop during a previous stint working there, but I had never come across live magic. I had hoped at the Institute I would. I had been right—more field experience was just what I needed before reapplying for the job.
Aidan changed his hold on my hand, and his fingers closed around my wrist, sending another beautiful cascade of warm tingling up my arm. Except this time, it didn’t feel like magic.
“Let’s go,” he ordered, tugging me toward the door.
Scowling at his hand, I followed. He let go of me so we could move poor Floor Guy out of the way, after a warning to not touch his skin and a roll of my eyes to tell Aidan what I thought of his advice, and then we stepped outside into the corridor.
The way to the stairs was something out of a nightmare. The heavy kind, the ones where you don’t know what’s coming because you can’t see it, but you know it is coming. The ceiling lights had given up all pretense, leaving the bend in the corridor drenched in darkness, a kind of thick black oil that would stick to your skin and slowly suck you in. On the walls by our sides, small cracks had appeared—an otherworldly vine slowly feeling its way along the corridor, testing, searching.
For us.
Even as I accepted this, the vines crept and the darkness leaped forward, as if it had finally found its target.
I yelped and grabbed on to Aidan’s arm, intending to push him in front of me. He paid me no attention and spun on his heels.
“Move,” he barked. A waste of breath, really. I was already moving deeper into the corridor.
We didn’t slow down until we took a couple of corners and the basement returned to its usual cheery self. I would’ve never thought I’d miss dull gray paint so much.
“What is it?” I peeked at the corridor behind us. Still gray, still blissfully bright.
“Some kind of Fae creature would be my guess. A hound, perhaps.”
I swallowed hard. Fae creatures were the stuff of nightmares. They ranged from humongous beasts that took several Fae to bring down, to wolf-like animals that delighted in the destruction they caused. And they all partook in the lovely sport of mauling.
“This far outside Fae land?” I asked in a whisper. Most of us had never seen a Fae—the same industrial revolution that had eventually stopped the Fae from wanting to leave their underground kingdoms had also affected the beasts that prowled there.
“There is more than enough magic concentrated here to make them comfortable. You realize it’s not that they can’t cross, it’s that they like it better down there on their side.”
The mocking edge to his tone was hard to ignore, but hey, as long as he was in the mood… “And why is that? The concentration, I mean.” I had always wondered.
“Ley lines are especially strong here.”
My mouth opened in surprise.
He caught my expression with a fast glance and shook his head in irritation. “What, didn’t you find it strange that so many businesses dealing with Fae magic rent in this building?”
“What, were you born knowing everything?” I asked in feigned shock.
His mouth curved the barest bit. “I’d like to think so.”
We took another corner. Another short expanse of gray interrupted by two metal doors greeted us. I coughed. “Thenwhyarewelost.”
Aidan’s smile soured right away. “We’re not lost.”
We had gone well beyond my earlier explorations. By now, we had to have walked farther than the actual building on top of us and into the next block. Taking a sharp turn left, we went along the next stretch of corridor. This one had no doors.
“So,” I said nonchalantly, giving him a covert look, “how long have you worked for the Institute?”
A grunt was his only response.
“Must be hard working for a jerk,” I added smoothly.
“A jerk?”
I waved my hand. “You know, your boss.”
“My boss?”
His tone made me look up. Aidan’s expression was blank, and I let out a noise of impatience. “You know, Director Greaves. The Jerk.”
Aidan stopped and blinked a couple of times. “The Jerk,” he repeated in a monotone voice.
“Maybe he’s not a jerk to everyone?” I asked, all eagerness, stepping closer. “Does he like you? Can you put in a good word for me when I call to trade in the ball?” I caught a hint of cologne or soap. Something that stirred my senses. Definitely not aftershave, I decided, taking another look at his jaw. I almost wanted to run a finger down his stubble to see if it felt as rough as it looked. Run a finger, then poke the nose.
“The Jerk.” He frowned in a spectacular example of foreboding. “What makes you think he’s a jerk?”
“If it acts like a jerk and speaks like a jerk… Is Greaves even his real name? Because I’ve googled him, and nothing comes up other than the mention on the Institute’s web page.”
A noise distracted me. I turned in time to see a dark shape shoot by us and stop by the next intersection of corridors.
“A kitty,” I exclaimed, taking a few steps toward it and slamming into the invisible wall of the binding. Undeterred, I crouched a step back and extended my hand as far as it would go, making purring noises.
The cat hissed. I snatched my hand back.
“Okay,” I murmured. I felt Aidan come to stand behind me.
“What are you doing?” he asked in the most disgusted tone.
“Nothing.” I got to my feet. The movement quickened my pulse.
After giving another hiss, the cat disappeared. By then, a shudder was building between my shoulder blades in tandem with my blood. I squirmed, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. In fact, it tightened around me, threatening to cut my breathing.
Slowly, I dared a glance over my shoulder. My heart jumped. “Oh, crap.”
“What?” Aidan demanded, following my gaze. His hand gripped my arm. “Hell.”
The lights at the end of the short corridor were starting to dim at an alarming speed.
He pulled me forward, and I had no option but to follow, unable to tear my gaze from the tendrils of black vine expanding across the walls.
“Why is it so fast now?” I asked, refocusing ahead when Aidan’s steps grew faster.
“It must be attuned to the binding, in case the sleep potion didn’t work.”
“Not the artifact?”
“I think the man came to put down a couple of traps of his own before selling the artifact and got caught on the ones already set.”
“So, not a thief.”
I got another of his patented exasperated looks for that one. “Why would you keep such an artifact in a filing room in a basement?”
I grinned, momentarily forgetting the mass of darkness stalking us. “Excellent point. You really do know everything.”
He ignored me and upped the pace until I was forced into a half run to keep up with him. “We have to find a way up,” he said tersely. “Creatures’ magic is too embedded into the earth. It’s unlikely it can follow us outside the basement.”
The feeling of dread increased along with our speed. Another glance over my shoulder told me the creature was having no trouble keeping up with us. Enjoying the hunt, I realized with a bolt of genuine fear. And like the prey we were, we were starting to run without a plan, taking whatever corner felt like it would take us away from it.
“We’re lost,” I said in despair between gulps of air. The fast pace and the anxiety squeezing my lungs was making it hard to breathe.
Aidan’s face was harsh and cut in stone. His strides were long and fast and ate the ground with ease. The fact that he was feeling the same dread I was made my fears diminish a little. I wasn’t alone. We were together in this.
He gave me a fast, hard look. “Don’t you know your way around here? You work here.”
Or maybe not together, exactly. I frowned right back at him. “Why would I know my way? Nobody comes down here.”
“Then why did you?”
The accusation in his tone made me want to defend myself, so I wasted some precious air doing so, my tone as disapproving of his lack of faith as I could make it. “I was sent to the archives by my boss.”
“Strange they sent you there if they were expecting a visitor, don’t you think?” I was about to answer when it dawned on me he was suspicious of me, not my boss. Confirming my thoughts, he added, “Why would they send you?”
I winced. “Well…”
“Well what?”
I kept my focus on the ground ahead of us. “I, uh, was supposed to go into the other room, but I saw the open door and sensed the broken ward, so…” I managed a lovely little flourish with my hand. “You know.”
“What the hell?” he asked, baffled.
I snorted. It came out somewhat garbled and more like wheezing. “Okay, Mr. Institute, like you’ve never poked your nose where it didn’t belong.”
“You can sense wards?”
The honest curiosity in his question surprised me. It contrasted with the expression on his face, all stern and forbidding and like he wanted to punch things.
“I can sense Fae magic.” At his look of disbelief, I added, “I’m one-sixteenth Fae, you know. Are you part Fae, too?” He probably was, since he worked for the Institute.
“I’m part none of your business.”
“Okay. And the rest?”
He stumbled and I took hold of his arm, ready to pull him up if needed.
“You’re too cheeky for your own good,” he muttered, regaining his equilibrium. Then he cursed foully and broke into a full run. I was forced to sprint after him, which only got faster after I looked down.
The tendrils of darkness were nipping at our heels, stretching ahead of us then allowing us to overtake them just to grow another yard.
We were out of time, no exit in sight.
Until we rounded the next corner.