Page 95 of Wicked Deeds

I closed my eyes again, focusing on the sensations around me. I could feel the hum of the game, the sensation of being in VR, familiar as breathing these days. I tried to feel my magic, to feel the energy I gave off. To see where the two connected.

There.

A thread. The faintest hint of connection hovering at my wrist.

See the energy, break the energy.

Here goes nothing.

I shaped my magic into a spike, much like I would if I was trying to attack the way Callum had been teaching me. And, taking a final breath, hoping I wasn’t about to set fire to myself out in the real world, I stabbed the spike at the connection.

Pain. I bit my lip, determined not to scream. If someone was watching, I wasn’t going to give myself away before I even got started.

The pain ebbed. I cracked my eyes open just enough to check where I was.

It had worked. I was back in the office.

Yeah, take that you arrogant asshole,I thought viciously. I tore the cuff off, then waited to see if anyone came bursting through the door. When they didn’t after a few minutes, I sat up carefully.

My head throbbed like it was on fire. I waited it out, breathing slowly until it felt safe to risk turning my head to see where I was.

Yep, an office. Blandly corporate. The UV screens on the windows seemed to be mostly intact and there was still enough outside light to tell me that either only a few hours had passed, or I’d been out more than a day. Surely I’d be hungrier and thirstier if that was the case? I pushed to my feet, trying to get a better view out of the windows.

I’d been right about the abandoned office park part as well. The building I was in faced a row of what I had to assume were similar office-type buildings. The pavement of the parking lot was cracked in several places, weeds growing through it. The painted lines outlining each parking spot were mere suggestions, worn away by weather and time.

There was nothing beyond the buildings to give me a clue where I was. Just more industrial-looking structures. No lights on in any of them. No cars anywhere. No sign of occupancy.

So, no immediate chance of help. Not that I wanted to drag innocent bystanders into this.

I flexed my wrist, activating the panic button in my chip. But I had no idea where I was or how long it might take Damon’s team to find me. So I was rescuing my damn self. And mydamned sister. I studied the sun again through the UV shields. Midafternoon. I was going to assume it hadn’t been a full day. The room was cold, the air smelled damp and dusty, which suggested a recently revived cooling system. Which didn’t help me figure out the time. But I was going with still Friday. After all, Jack hadn’t summoned a demon yet. Or I’d be dead. Or enslaved.

He needed time to convince Gwen to help him.

I had to find her first.

So. I’d have a better chance if I had a weapon. Or two. I turned my head slowly, not wanting to set off the headache again. There were shelves on one wall, but they were empty. There was also a small filing cabinet in a corner, but its drawers were half open and I could see they were empty as well.

Which left the desk. Two closed drawers, one narrow, one deep.

I pushed myself up, wobbled slightly, clenched my jaw and crossed the room. The drawers slid open smoothly. The top one was empty. Not so much as a paperclip.

But the second one…the second one held…my backpack? I stared at it blankly. Was Jack that arrogant? So sure of his cuff holding me that he didn’t even bother to ditch my belongings?

Crazy, I reminded myself. Crazy and convinced he was winning. A dangerous combination, but one I could use against him. He thought I wouldn’t be able to get out. More fool him.

I eased the backpack out of the drawer and pushed the tiny spot underneath one of the pocket flaps where a panic button was sewn between the layers of fabric. I pressed it, just in case the one in my chip hadn’t worked. My datapad was gone, so was the small penknife I kept stashed in one of the inner pockets, suggesting Jack wasn’t entirely stupid. As I searched through the backpack, Cerridwen’s bracelet rattled against one of the clips.

Oh, good. Jack hadn’t taken that either.

I sent a small burst of power into it. The Fae equivalent of a panic button. Might as well summon all the cavalry. Particularly if Jack was planning to bring demonkind to this party. That done, I shoved it into the pocket of my jeans and kept rifling through the pack.

I hadn’t been carrying a gun, but as far as I could see, Jack hadn’t taken anything besides my datapad and knife. The tiny torch, a bottle of ibuprofen, a few protein bars and the small pouch I used to carry around a lip balm, Band-Aids, gum, and other basic necessities. I dry swallowed two of the ibuprofen, hoping they’d help chase away the last of the headache, forced myself to take a bite of a protein bar, and reached for the hard case I carried my sunglasses around in. The one with the secret section under the lid where I hid my lockpicks.

I slid them into the pocket of my jeans, debated whether I should bring the backpack with me, but slid it back into the drawer. I didn’t need extra weight. I crossed to the door, which only had a standard mechanical lock that had been reversed so the nib was on the outside, leaving me with the keyhole.

Perfect. I paused by the door, listening and trying to breathe as quietly as possible. There was no sound at all.

I stretched my senses farther, feeling for magic, reaching for all the skills I’d built in my sessions chasing Cerridwen’s illusions around the city. I knew the feel of demon magic now. Could sense it several blocks away. And I doubted Jack had found himself a lair that big.

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