Page 102 of Burn of Obsidian

“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.

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