Page 115 of Stroke of Shadows

“Thea, please.”

“Look, I can’t, okay?” Thea’s eyes flickered with bronze, and something passed behind them that she couldn’t read. “Don’t ask again, because it won’t happen. I’m not leaving you.”

Harper spotted Lorraine, and then the statue that Thea must have used to hit her. Blood had begun to pool, and she was pretty sure the back of her head had been caved in.

“Shit, do you think she’s dead?” Thea gently nudged her with a boot before picking up the fallen knife. “I don’t want a murder charge against me. Although I could argue manslaughter, with you being tortured and all.”

Harper tried to laugh, but no sound came out. “How did you get inside?”

“Don’t ask.” Thea rolled her eyes. “Like I’ve said, this place is warded up like the King himself lives here. I can’t guarantee I haven’t set off some magical alarms.”

“Warded?” Harper frowned. “Magical alarms?”

“Look, I know you were brought up human, but we don’t have time to ask a million and one questions right now.” Thea wrapped her arm around Harper’s waist, her taller height making it easier. “I swear, if your guy’s behind this I’ll—”

“He’s not. This is a… family thing.” Harper’s legs were weak, but they both managed to make it out of the room. It took a second, but she recognised her surroundings. She’d been stored in the warehouse beneath her uncle’s gallery. She’d laugh at the irony if she didn’t hurt so much. She was always seen as one of his collectables, so it made sense for her to die amongst them.

“Family, huh?” Thea tsked. “If this is how they treat you, might I suggest a new family?”

“Yeah, working on it,” Harper groaned. “Just over there.” She pointed towards the lift, thankful they seemed to be alone in the warehouse. The two men painted as skulls were nowhere in sight, and neither were Gideon nor Wyatt.

“So, here’s the plan,” Thea said, anxiously sweeping the room with her gaze. “We’re just going to walk out of here.”

Harper nodded, the motion setting off her headache. “I love a simple plan.”

Thea’s lips pressed into a thin line. “My mum’s going to murder me if I die.” She pressed the button for the lift, the doors opening immediately. “And trust me, you don’t mess with that woman.”

“Hate to tell you this, but she can’t kill what’s already dead.”

“Oh, she’ll find a way.” They both anxiously waited for the lift to ascend. “She’s human, but she’s meaner than a banshee if you piss her off. Something I excel at, might I add.”

“We’re not going to die, but—”

“No, you can stop right the fuck there.”

“I want to thank you,” Harper continued. “For you know, helping me.”

“What did I tell you about thanking the Fae?” Thea shook her head. “When I gave you that bead, I didn’t expect this.”

The lift whined.

“Sorry about that.”

Thea shrugged. “Don’t apologise for something out of your control. I lent you the bead because I felt you needed help. I just assumed it was because of your boyfriend, not whatever the fuck this is.”

Harper closed her eyes, head swaying. “Promise me that if we’re caught, you leave.” When she opened them again, Thea was glaring at her.

“Harp—”

“Promise me.”

Thea swallowed, her high cheekbones tinged pink. “It won’t come to that.”

“Please.”

Thea’s grip tightened, the only thing really holding Harper up. She gave a sharp nod, turning to the lift doors just as they opened.

The white partition walls used to form the gallery had been moved, forming a room that wasn’t there the last time she’d visited. It was just off to the left, and seemed entirely enclosed other than the doorway. The room had been built in the centre of the gallery, surrounded by corridors designed like a labyrinth.

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