Page 20 of Devil's Embrace
After she left, I sank back onto the bed, my mind churning.
Chapter Seven
Emory
I stretched out on the bed, watching the ornate clock on the nightstand and counted the minutes crawling past.Ten o’clock.Eleven.Midnight.Since they’d locked me back in after my brief, supervised visit with Mina, the mansion’s sounds had shifted.Footsteps in the hallway thinned out, voices faded, and doors opened and closed less often.Half a dozen times in the past hour, I’d pressed my ear against the door, straining to catch any sign of a guard outside.Nothing.Only the occasional creak of the house settling, and the relentless pounding of my heart.
One in the morning.The witching hour.As good a time as any to try.
I slid off the bed, my bare feet silent against the plush carpet.During my supervised breaks, I'd noticed the lock on my door was simple—a key lock that looked sophisticated but wasn't anything special.Growing up in a small town in Alabama had taught me a thing or two about getting into places I wasn't supposed to access.Teenage rebellion had its uses after all.
First, I checked the windows, even though I'd already confirmed earlier they’d been sealed shut.Three stories up anyway—not an option unless I wanted to break my neck.The air vent was too small for even Mina to crawl through.That left the door as my only option.
I moved to the vanity, running my fingers along its edge, searching for anything I could use.The hairbrush was useless, but the drawer yielded a thin metal hairpin—the kind used to secure updos.I clutched it like it was made of gold.Next, I checked the desk in the corner.The drawers slid open silently, revealing stationery, pens, and—thank God—a letter opener with a narrow tip.
Tools in hand, I crept to the door, pressing my ear against it one more time.Silence.I kneeled down, eye level with the lock, and got to work.
My hands trembled as I inserted the hairpin, feeling for the tumblers.Sweat beaded on my forehead, trickling down the side of my face.I'd done this before as a teenager, but never with so much at stake.Never with my daughter's life hanging in the balance.
"Come on."I twisted the hairpin with practiced fingers."Come on."
I lost track of time, my world narrowing to the lock and my clumsy hands.Every sound from elsewhere in the mansion made me freeze—a distant door closing, the central heat kicking on.Each time, I held my breath, counting to twenty before continuing.
The letter opener slipped from my sweaty palm.I gasped, snatching it up and pressing myself flat against the door, certain someone must have heard.Seconds ticked by.Nothing.
"Pull it together, Emory," I muttered to myself, wiping my palms on my jeans.
I resumed my work, focusing on the feel of the tumblers beneath my makeshift picks.Seconds stretched into minutes.My knees ached from kneeling on the hard floor.Just as frustration threatened to overwhelm me, I felt it—the subtle give as the final tumbler slipped into place.
Click.
The sound was soft, barely audible even in the silent room, but to me, it might as well have been a gunshot.I pulled back, staring at the doorknob as if it might bite me.With a trembling hand, I reached out, turning it slowly.
The door opened.
I remained frozen, half-expecting alarms to blare or guards to come running.Nothing happened.The hallway remained silent and empty, lit only by small sconces spaced along the walls, their dim light creating long shadows on the expensive carpet.
I slipped out, easing the door closed behind me without fully latching it—I couldn't risk being locked out if I needed to return quickly.The air felt colder out here, raising goosebumps on my arms.Or maybe that was just fear.
Which way?During our walks through the mansion, I'd tried to memorize the layout, but the place was massive.Mina's room—the blue room, Luca had called it—was in the east wing.I turned right, hugging the wall as I moved.
Every step felt like walking on shards of glass.I strained my ears for any sound that might indicate someone was coming.My heart pounded so loudly I feared it would give me away.
At the first intersection, I pressed myself into an alcove, peering around the corner.Empty.I continued on, counting doors, trying to match them with what I'd seen earlier.This place was a maze, designed to confuse and trap.
A sound—footsteps approaching from a side corridor.I froze, then ducked into the nearest doorway, a small sitting room of some kind.I hid behind a heavy curtain, holding my breath as the footsteps passed.A guard making rounds.Once they faded, I emerged, trembling harder now but more determined than ever.
Mina.I had to find Mina.Every second I wasted increased our chances of being caught.I pictured her sleeping in her unicorn costume, alone and confused in a strange place.The image hardened my resolve.I moved faster, less cautious but more purposeful.
I reached a staircase I recognized from earlier—the main one that curved elegantly to the lower floors.Mina's room should be down the next hall, if my mental map was correct.I placed my foot on the first step.
Then I saw it—a thin line of light spilling from beneath a door at the end of the hallway.Luca's study.I recognized the carved door from earlier that day.
I hesitated, foot hovering above the step.Mina was my priority—I needed to find her, to get her out of this place.But the light meant Luca was still awake, working late.In his study might be information, keys, maybe even a phone.Something that could help us escape more efficiently than just running blindly.
But if he caught me...
I bit my lip, torn between maternal instinct and practical necessity.If I found Mina now, where would we go?How would we get past the guards, the walls, the security I'd glimpsed during our arrival?Without information, without resources, we'd never make it to the front gate.
