Page 52 of Queen of Darkness
Neither did I care. All that mattered was that after a few words to Mr. Orrin, the secretary got up from her desk.
“Follow me,” she snapped. “Don’t take too long. Mr. Orrin is very busy.”
I knew what that meant.Take too long, and he won’t be available to see you. So you had better walk faster.
Which would tire me out more. And leave my legs more likely to give out, causing me to fall to the floor. And thus failing.
Bitch.
I stared right at her, wishing I had laser beams for eyes as I forced myself down the hallway, one step after another.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Right. Right. Left.
Sometimes I didn’t even step. I simply dragged my foot up. Having my hands tucked against my chest worsened my balance, but it didn’t matter. The cooler was the important part. That was what mattered. I had to keep it safe. I had less than an hour to go until the first blood would no longer pass whatever test the Guild put it to.
Amazingly, I made it to the door. The world was spinning, I was sweating profusely, and my legs were shaking like we were in the middle of an earthquake. But Imadeit. The secretary, looking even more frustrated, opened the door, admitting me into the darkened room.
I wobbled my way through the door, only narrowly missing being caught by the secretary as she pulled it shut. I gave her a brilliant smile and stuck my tongue out at her before making my way toward the desk, where Mr. Orrin sat cloaked in shadow.
“Miss Alustria,” he said in his gender-neutral voice.
Although he was called “Mr. Orrin,” I had to wonder if that was perhaps part of the disguise. A way to confuse people about “his” true identity. Either way, that was how I went along with it.
“Mr. Orrin,” I said, my voice weak and soft. “I’ve come to fulfill the terms of a Blood Letter.”
“Indeed?” the shadowy form mused. “Whose?”
“Mine,” I stated, looking at the cooler. “This is my blood. Over two liters of it, as per specifications. Enough to claim the letter and have it revoked.”
There was silence. “How did you learn of this?”
I grinned. “I read the fine print.”
Orrin sighed in frustration when I refused to elaborate. “Place the blood on the table,” he commanded.
With my fingers shaking, I slowly undid the straps of the cooler, making sure to keep one arm linked through the handle as I did. The weight grew heavier as the straps came free, and I grimaced, struggling to hold it up.
“Don’t drop it, Miss Alustria,” the voice admonished. “I won’t be picking it up.”
Glaring at him, I fumbled with the last strap. It came free, and my arms sagged. I cried out, hauling back. Muscles in my back screamed in protest, too weak to support this extra weight now that it was free. I tilted forward, my arms slowly lowering against my will, even as I tried to command them to raise.
No! I was going to lose it. I was going to fail, right here, now, when I was so close. This wasn’t possible!
I leaned forward, dragging a foot closer to the desk. This wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’tletit happen. Now not. Not when I was on the edge of succeeding.
Bending at the waist, I flung the cooler with all my might toward the desk. It clipped the edge, spun, and landed on its side, pushing papers and other items out of its path as it came to a halt in front of Mr. Orrin.
“There,” I gasped, forcing myself to stand upright without touching anything. “All yours. Now revoke this letter.”
Mr. Orrin was silent for a moment. He had to be evaluating my delivery method, deciding whether it would be acceptable. I bit my lip so hard it bled as I waited for him to do something,anything.
“Analyze it,” he said at last, grabbing it and passing it off to someone else, someone I hadn’t realized was there until their footsteps sounded in the room.
The cooler disappeared into the hands of whoever it was while I struggled to penetrate the intense darkness around Mr. Orrin. Just how many other people were in the room? I had thought we were alone, but that was obviously not the case.
Time seemed to stretch on. Mr. Orrin said nothing. We waited, and my legs began to tremble even worse. My strength was fading. I didn’t know if I could sit down at this point or not. The Blood Letter hadn’t officially been revoked. If I fell, I might still fail.
All my attention boiled down to staying upright. To not falling over, to not slumping against the desk. Stand up, and wait for word. There could only be thirty minutes left at this point.
