Page 8 of Outlaw Witch

I’m sure it’s the same one.

Like, ninety percent sure.

Or maybe sixty percent.

—Only to find it locked.

Ffffuck.

My hands are shaking and my pulse is pounding away as I pull out the lockpicking set Rook lent me. I reckon I have maybe a minute or two before the entire coven starts milling about the place.

Shoving the metal picks into the lock, I try to mimic the movements Rook taught me last night. But my hands shake too damn badly for me to get the angles right and I don’t have time to fuck about right now.

“A little help here?”I mentally message Ember.

He replies almost instantly, like he’s been waiting for me to mess up and need his help. “What’s up, Silv?”

“Another damn locked door and I need a swift exit. Can you ask Rook which of the exits we mapped out should get me out of here right now?”

“Told you this damn job was a dumb idea,”Ember mutters. “You should have let me come along with you.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah, save the scolding for when I’m safely home.”

Thankfully, it doesn’t take him long to get back to me. Apparently there’s another door onto a side street that leads out from a nearby lounge. Unfortunately, that means temporarily heading closer to where I can hear the rest of the coven chattering and laughing, but I can’t be choosy right now.

Pushing open the first door, I scout the adjoining room out and find it empty and then scurry inside. It’s not until I’m pushing the door open into a small corridor that I smell it.

Burning.

An alarm blares from somewhere in the house. I can see the entire corridor is full of thick, dark smoke, which must mean the exit is blocked too.

Shit on a stick.

I spin on my heel and head back the way I came, not bothering with sneaking around this time. There’s a time for subtlety, and it’s not when the house I’m escaping is on fire.

Shoving open the door so that I’m back in the main section of the house. There’s smokeeverywhere. It’s impossible to tell where it’s coming from, which part of the house is burning.

The alarms are nearly deafening me and are making my nerves shot to shit.

I pat my pockets for the artifacts and yank the neck of my t-shirt up to cover my mouth and nose so that I’m not choking on the smoke. Hurrying toward the nearest door, I find it locked.

The next door is locked, too.

Jesus fuck, what is it with this coven and locked fucking doors?

You’d think they would have at least spelled them in case of an emergency.

I don’t know where the members of the coven are, but they’re not here. I’m starting to get a little light-headed as I try not to take deep breaths of the smoky air.

Fuck it, I’m going to head for the main entrance. That should have a lock on the inside, right?

But the smoke is so thick now it’s disorienting. I stumble as I spin around, unsure which direction to head in. It’s like someone’s gone overboard with a smoke machine.

And then I collide with something hard and warm.

It batters right into my gut and I let out an ‘oof’ as I’m unceremoniously thrown over someone’s shoulder. The smokey world around me spins and then all I can see is a dark t-shirt as my face smashes against someone’s back.

My nose fills with the smell of amber and vanilla, which is a welcome relief from the stink of smoke. I suck the scent in greedily for a moment before coming to my senses and realizing I’m sniffing the random person currently manhandling me.

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