Page 169 of Terror at the Gates

Fucking finally, I thought.

“Let’s go,” Zahariev said.

We left the car and jogged down the sidewalk in the near dark. Unlike the night of the gala, the sky was clear and dense with stars. It was beautiful, but there was somethingunsettling about the world without power. Things just felt a little more dangerous and a little less certain.

Lisk’s mansion sat away from the street behind a fence that was mostly concrete except for the front, which was barred by a set of iron gates.

“I’ll help you,” Zahariev said. He interlocked his fingers so I could use them as a step and hoisted me up. I held on to two of the spikes until I could rest my foot on the rail and jump. My landing was shit. My legs gave out as soon as I hit the ground, and I fell to my knees.

Zahariev followed, landing on his feet as I got to mine.

We headed for the side of the house, out of view of the main gate. Zahariev checked a couple of windows.

“There’s one open on the second floor,” I said.

He followed my gaze. “Let’s check the back before I make any attempts at climbing.”

Around the back, there was a set of locked double doors.

“Fuck,” Zahariev said under his breath. “Wait here.”

He left the porch, and I walked to the corner, watching as he scaled the side of the house like he’d been doing it since he was five, which was probably accurate. Once he vanished through the second-story window, I returned to the back door and waited.

It was a few minutes before I saw him approach through the glass, but he unlocked the door, and I entered Lisk’s living room. There were two sofas, each covered in patterned velvet and trimmed in dark wood. A gildedBook of Splendorsat atop an ornate coffee table next to a small, wooden chest. I opened it, but the only thing inside was a remote for the television and another for the ceiling fan.

“It looks like Lisk raided your storage containers for furniture,” I said, glancing around the room, which felt toolarge for one man.

“Master’s upstairs,” Zahariev said. “I can check that room for a safe if you wanna start searching the study?”

“Can you crack a safe?” I asked, a little jealous. That was a skill I wanted, but Zahariev laughed, quiet.

“Depends on the safe,” he said.

I wanted more details, but I’d ask them later. Right now, we had work to do.

“Where’s the study?” I asked.

Zahariev led me down a hall, past a winding staircase and into the foyer, which branched off into two rooms. One was a formal dining room, and the other was Lisk’s study. It reminded me of my father’s, full of oversize, dark furniture. Without light, I knew this color scheme—dark wood, shades of brown, and gilded metals.

“You can use your flashlight, but be aware of the windows,” said Zahariev.

There were five in total. The two on either side of the fireplace were concealed behind heavy drapes, while the three at the front of the house were stained glass.

I looked at Zahariev. “How long do we have?”

His attention turned to his watch. “I’d say an hour, tops.”

“Got it,” I said, already crossing the room to Lisk’s desk.

It was unadorned except for a lamp that looked like it weighed a thousand pounds.

The desk had seven drawers, three on each side and one in the middle. I started on the left. The top had a worn copy of theBook of Splendor, the next was full of folders stuffed with what appeared to be old sermons, and the bottom was full of snacks, which actually impressed me. Who knew Lisk was human enough to be relatable?

The other side was much of the same, folders and foldersof past sermons.

This man needs a filing cabinet, I muttered.

The middle drawer had personalized stationery and various fountain pens, but nothing blade shaped. Not even a letter opener.

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