“Check the files,” Granite ordered. “Now.”
The sound of the safe reopening made my blood run cold. I needed a distraction, something to get them away from the safe before they noticed which file was missing.
I focused on the chandelier overhead, calling on my will-o’-wisp magic. A thin tendril of blue fire snaked from my fingertips, invisible to the enforcers as it climbed up the wall and across the ceiling. With a thought, I sent it into the crystal fixture, where it danced among the prisms like a stray reflection.
Then I made it explode.
Glass shattered everywhere as the chandelier burst in a spectacular display of blue flame and crystal shrapnel. The enforcers shouted in surprise, ducking for cover.
I bolted from my hiding place, making for the door. In my haste, the contract slipped from my pocket, fluttering to the floor like a dying moth.
“There!” Smokey shouted, darkness flowing from his fingertips. A tendril of shadow snaked around my wrist, burning cold against my skin. I yelped, trying to wrench free as another tendril reached for the fallen contract.
“No!” I couldn’t lose it now, not when I was so close. Magic surged through me—not the gentle lights I usually produced, but something wilder, more desperate. Blue fire erupted from my trapped hand, burning through Smokey’s darkness like acid through paper. He howled, the shadows recoiling.
I dove for the contract, fingers just grazing the ancient skin as a tendril of shadow wrapped around my wrist. I cried outin pain, my arm jerked backward at an unnatural angle.
“Gotcha,” Smokey hissed, darkness crawling up my arm like living frost.
The contract lay on the floor, just inches from my outstretched fingers but impossibly far. Another shadow tendril snaked toward it, gathering the precious document and pulling it back toward the safe.
“No!” I shouted, desperation fueling my magic. Blue fire erupted from my trapped hand, burning through Smokey’s darkness. He howled as his shadows recoiled, but it was too late—the contract was already back in the safe’s maw, the heavy door swinging shut with a final-sounding click.
“Get him!” Granite growled, crystalline knuckles cracking as he advanced.
I ran, blue wisps trailing from my fingers as I desperately tried to put distance between myself and the enforcers. The corridor outside was chaotic—dancers responding to the crash, security running toward the commotion. I pushed through them, using the confusion to my advantage.
“ALEX! Here!” Dario appeared, gesturing frantically toward a service exit. As I sprinted past, he stuck out his foot, sending a security guard crashing into Granite. Whether it was intentional or just fortunate clumsiness, I didn’t stop to ask.
The cool night air hit my face as I burst through the exit, running blindly down the alley. Behind me, I heard shouts and the distinctive sound of Smokey’s shadows slithering across concrete.
But I had one advantage. I knew these streets better than they did. Three years of working at Ogygia and their volatile staff had taught me every shortcut, every hiding place within ten blocks. I ducked into a storm drain, crawling through the narrow tunnel until I emerged two streets over.
I didn’t stop running until I was certain I’d lost them, collapsing against a brick wall in an unfamiliar part of town.
I’d failed. The contract was still in the Madam’s possession, my one chance to free myself completely—gone. But I was alive, and that counted for something. They’d be looking for me now, even more determined than before. I needed somewhere safe, somewhere they wouldn’t think to look for me.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, making me jump. A text from Twyla.
Twyla:Flight canceled!!??Stupid weather! Back at the shop. Movie night? Bring pizza if ur around.
Shit. I couldn’t go home now. She’d take one look at me and know where I’d been. Worse, she might think I was trying to go back to work there.
Kronos’s brownstone was close. He was out of town, but I had a key—“for emergencies,“ he’d said with that wolfish grin. This definitely qualified.
The sequined bodysuit chafed as I walked, drawing strange looks from the few people still out at this hour. Yellow paint covered my hands and chest, marking me as clearly as a neon sign. I tapped out a quick reply to Twyla.
Alex:Out with friends. Don’t wait up.
It wasn’t entirely a lie—I had been with people I used to consider friends, in a manner of speaking.
By the time I reached Kronos’s place, my feet were blistered and my nerves were shot. The house was dark and silent as I let myself in, immediately feeling safer within these walls. His scent lingered everywhere—cedar and storm and something uniquely him that made my shoulders drop from around my ears.
I headed straight for the shower, peeling off the ruined disguise and stepping under scalding water. Paint swirled down the drain, along with the sweat of fear and the phantom feeling of Smokey’s shadows on my skin. I scrubbed until my skin was raw, trying to wash away any trace of Ogygia.
Clean and exhausted, I padded naked to Kronos’s bedroom. My wrist still burned where Smokey’s shadow had gripped me, a faint dark mark circling the skin like a bruise. So close. I’d been so close to having my freedom in my hands.
His bed was made with military precision, the dark sheets cold without his supernatural warmth. I slipped between them anyway, burying my face in his pillow, breathing in his scent.For the first time since entering Ogygia, my heart rate slowed to something approaching normal.
