Page 122 of The Succubi's Choice

He nods, neutral, before he resumes looking at the elevator doors like how everyone is supposed to, but she sees his brows furrow after a second, and he gives her another long look. “What department are you in?”

“Tech,” she lies.

He shifts, and she tries not to tense up, looking directly at the doors as if she could will them to move faster, to move so she can get out, get him out, anything, and —

“There’s no others in tech,” he says, voice disgruntled. “I thought...”

His hand reaches out, fast, for the stop elevator button, but she jerks forward, blocking the buttons from him, and they stare at each other for a split second, before his hand slowly drifts to his waist.

“Don’t,” she says, and he hesitates for a split second, and she uses that to tap the bare skin on his arm, a brief second of contact, and her spark snaps out of the scars on her arm, bright. “Don’t do anything,” she pleads, and his eyes glow gold.

The elevator beeps open, but neither of them moves. “Go, do your normal job, don’t report me,” she whispers, and with a curt nod, he pushes past her, out into the floor, and the door closes between them.

One trial down, and she backs away from the door, shaking.

She’s never been the strongest at charming someone, and she doesn’t know how long that compulsion will last. This entire thing could be done before it starts, and she could be taken in, thrown in a prison, never retrievable, and..

The door beeps open, on her floor, and she steps out.

It’s quiet. Exquisitely quiet, just the soft whirr of electronics and the buzz of fluorescent lights, with no humans in sight.

The Archdemon had said Thomas would remove obstacles, but she didn’t think it would have anything to do with no humans.

“Okay,” she whispers, out loud, before shoving her head down and walking, briskly, past the open floor cubicles and the personal computers.

A few cups of coffee sit at the desks, still steaming.

Thomas had given her instructions on how to get to the exact server bank, the exact place in where she can disrupt them enough, and she counts the rooms as she passes them, a small feeling of triumph in her gut.

Against her pocket, her phone buzzes, several times, as it gets signal from the elevators.

BLOCKED NUMBER (8:39 PM): There will be about twenty minutes from when you unplug the server until when the roommate can come get you. -T.

BLOCKED NUMBER (8:39 PM): Just blocked out the camera banks, they have no eyes on you. -T

K (8:40 PM): Miri, what’s going on?

K (8:40 PM)): Are you in downtown? Get out, get out now.

K (8:40 PM): I don’t know what you’re doing but you need to stop.

Her heart in her throat, she continues walking.

It takes surprisingly little effort to find the exact server bank, with the exact plug he described, in the exact place it was marked in the many blueprints he showed her, and…

And it feels too easy, so she takes a deep breath, and then another.

MIRI (8:42 PM): Found the servers. Unplugging in 30 seconds.

BLOCKED NUMBER (8:43 PM): Got it.

BLOCKED NUMBER (8:44 PM): I got video feed from floor 18, your friend has long dark hair? Wearing a college sweatshirt?

MIRI (8:44 PM): Probably.

BLOCKED NUMBER (8:45 PM): She’s injured, and in a locked medical bay. Passcode 4486 at the elevators. Roommate will be pissed if you don’t get out okay.

Miri nods, even though he can’t see her, before she reaches forward and grabs the power line and pulls.

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