Page 100 of Wicked Dove
“Miss Blackwood, you shouldn’t be out of bed.”
I nod, flicking my ratty hair over my shoulder. “I need the toilet,” I lie, and her eyes widen slightly.
“Oh.”
“Please, I’m desperate,” I add, and she nods.
“Of course, let me get you an escort,” she offers, and my eyebrows rise in surprise. An escort? What do I need one of them for?
“Can you let me get a head start and they can join me? I’m on the brink.” My eyebrows gather pleadingly and she sighs.
“Okay, they’re going to be right behind you. Take your time,” she insists before side-stepping me.
Flooded with relief, I make my way down the hall to where the security guard is standing, trying to come up with an excuse that will get me inside the room he’s protecting, when a hand lands on my shoulder. I stiffen at the contact, my heart racing in my chest.
Glancing over my shoulder, I find an older woman with a tight smile on her face. “The women’s bathroom is this way,” she mutters, turning me to the room across the hall from my desired exit.
I can’t think of an excuse quick enough, not one that wouldn’t cause an unnecessary scene at least, so I follow her inside.
Stepping into the bathroom, I shiver at how much it resembles the bathroom I used with Kael back at The Sanctum. The white tiles are the same, and the cubicles too. I shuffle into one of them, locking it behind me as I take a deep breath, trying to find the answer to all of my problems.
“Come now, Miss Blackwood. I don’t have all day,” the escort grumbles impatiently, irritating me as my mind circles on the only option I can think of.
With another deep breath, I let all of my emotions rise to the surface. Instead of tamping them down, I let them consumeme, swirling through my veins as I open the cubicle door. My escort glares at me, her inconvenience on clear display as I move toward her.
She rolls her eyes at me as a huff parts her lips. “Quickly, we?—”
I don’t think, I just move, shoving my hands against her chest and hoping for the best.
A scream echoes around the room, bouncing off the tiles as it gets louder and louder, while my escort falls to her knees. Her face is scrunched in agony, despair thick in the room as I bite through the pain in my hands, watching as they start to shift into wolf claws.
The desire to slice at her is real, to use her own magic against her, it’s overwhelming, but before I do something I’ll completely regret, I stumble back a step. She flops to the floor, revealing the vanity mirror behind her, where I catch a glimpse of myself.
Rage burns in my eyes, my hands remain as claws, and my shoulders are tight.
I don’t even recognize myself.
I hate it.
My escort stirs on the floor, curling herself into a fetal position, and a pang of guilt nestles in my chest.
I have to move. Now.
Hurrying for the door, I find opening it isn’t as easy with these damn claws still protruding from my knuckles instead of my fingers, but I somehow manage to make it out into the hall. The door ahead is clear, no security guard in sight, so before I can think better of it, I charge toward it, slipping inside without a backward glance.
I press my back against the door behind me, attempting to catch my breath, but there’s no time for that as I find two security guards standing between me and the exact thing I’m looking for.
A portal.
Theportal.
“All you have to do is get yourself to that portal, Elodie. Name the place you want to go to and you’ll be free.”
“You can’t be in here,” the security guard to the left says, and I nod, thoroughly assessing the room. He’s seated on a chair, while his friend stands back a step to my right. The wall behind them is a vortex of swirling purples and blues.
“This room is the whole reason I’m here,” I admit, and the guy standing is the first to understand what I want.
Without a moment’s pause, he charges toward me. Fear channels into determination, and I slice at him with my stolen claws the moment he’s within arm’s reach. His scream is hollow as he snarls, snapping his teeth at me, but he quickly drops to his knees with my claws still protruding from his chest.
