Page 113 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
Slipping past the velvet rope without hesitation, the cloned keycard unlocks the door to the restricted area. The electronic panel's light turns green, the lock disengaging with a soft click.
I step through the doorway with fluid, purposeful steps, despite the hurricane of thoughts swirling inside.
The door clicks shut behind me. Lightning blazes through a distant window, momentarily lighting the shadowy corridor. Polished marble reflects each burst of white light. In the distance, voices murmur, my only guide forward.
Asher's voice cuts through the interference with crystal clarity, my custom earpiece performing exactly as designed. His tone is arctic with fury.
"Vanessa. Return. Now."
The instinctive urge to obey that voice wars against something stronger. The pull to follow his command is almost physical—a tether I'm deliberately straining against.
But Jenny's ghost tugs me forward with even greater force. Each step takes me deeper into unknown territory, closer to answers that might explain why my friend stopped communicating forever.
"I have to do this." More to myself than to Asher. "This is bigger than protocols."
The voices grow louder. Moving silently in my heels, keeping to shadows along the wall, anticipation builds for what waits around the next corner.
The storm outside mirrors the tempest building between duty and discovery, between protection and truth. And for the first time since this mission began, I'm choosing truth over safety.
Even if it means facing Asher's wrath when this is over.
twenty-nine
Vanessa
"Come on, BB-8, don't fail me now," I whisper to my phone as the cloned keycard slides through the reader with a soft beep.
The service door clicks open, and my heartbeat hammers against my ribcage. The hallway extends before me, bathed in a harsh fluorescent light that flickers and buzzes overhead.
Industrial pipes wind across the ceiling like exposed arteries, their metal surfaces gleaming dully in the cold illumination. Rain pounds against small rectangular windows, creating a percussion that somehow helps quiet the usual chaos in my head.
Focus, Vanessa. Jenny died for whatever's behind that door.
Asher's voice cuts through my earpiece, sharp as winter. "Vanessa, report status."
I tap the comm unit, muting it. The silence feels like both rebellion and freedom, but also like I'm cutting the safety rope. Ahead, Tatiana's platinum hair catches what little light exists,creating a beacon. Designer heels click against concrete in a steady rhythm. Confident. Purposeful.
Several paces behind her, the masked man moves with fluidly. Even in poor lighting, every step screams training. His suit looks expensive, custom-tailored. This isn't building security. This is something far more dangerous.
Military? Private contractor? Whoever he is, he's not here to check fire extinguishers.
Lightning flashes through the tall windows, flooding the corridor white. I press against the wall, using shadows between fixtures. Thunder crashes a heartbeat later, vibrating through the concrete.
The masked man pauses suddenly, head tilting like he's listening. My breath catches. His hand drifts toward his jacket. Weapon? Definitely weapon.
Did he hear me? Impossible. Thunder should have covered any sound.
Another crash of thunder, and he resumes following Tatiana. Distance calculations run automatically. Eighteen feet to the door, twelve between us, six feet of shadow cover remaining.
Tatiana reaches the door first, fingers dancing over a keypad.6-3-2-9.The numbers burn into my memory before I can stop them.
Sequential pattern. Either she's careless or confident. Probably confident.
They disappear inside, but the masked man hesitates at the threshold. For one terrifying moment, he turns back toward the corridor. Toward me.
Lightning illuminates everything again, and I swear he's looking directly at my hiding spot. When darkness returns, he's gone.
Okay, Vanessa. Time to be stupidly brave or brilliantly stupid. Haven't decided which yet.
