Page 17 of Expose Me

I would’ve thrown the powder across the room at him, but the fae had been very specific about how the magic worked. I had to blow it into his face or risk being knocked out right along with him.

He reached for the gun at his hip as I sprang forward. He pulled the gun. I lifted my fist, opened it, and blew the dust right into his dumb face.

As he dropped like a sack of potatoes, I lunged for the door that was swinging closed and caught it just in time. I winced as it hit my fingers, jamming them momentarily against the frame. Nothing was broken, and the adrenaline was dulling the pain. Time to move.

I had twenty minutes at best before the next guard came to take over, and I had to be long gone before then. No time to waste, I used the guard’s hand to keep the door open a crack, then I summoned a change of clothes. Changing my appearance would hopefully buy me a few extra moments if I happened to run into anyone. Plus sweats and a T-shirt wasn’t exactly the most practical outfit for escaping and being a bad bitch in general.

A precious few minutes later, I was in black pants and boots with a long-sleeved shirt and my hair braided up under a cap. The bright pink hair wasn’t ideal for not drawing any attention, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.

I pushed the prone guard out of the way of the door with my foot and took his gun, tucking it into the waistband of my pants.

A cautious glance through the door showed an empty corridor, and I slid out of the room. There were probably cameras somewhere, even though there hadn’t been one in the room, but there was no way to know if anyone was watching them. I forced a steady, measured step as I walked up the corridor like I had somewhere to be.

There was no one around at all, and I wondered if it was really going to be this easy. I followed the illuminated exit signs on the ceiling, spaced between the fluorescent lights, passing an occasional unmarked door.

I made it to the fire escape door without incident. It was across from a set of double doors with windows in the top half. Approaching it with caution, I glanced through the window. It was some kind of machine room, containing what I assumed was the machinery needed to run the heating, cooling, and ventilation to the entire building.

A figure was facing the door, chained between two massive machines, its depthless black form slumped, its arms tied wide apart. I knew it was Zey, even in this form. His T-shirt was ripped at the neck.

Like he’d sensed my gaze, he lifted his head a fraction, those unnerving lights where a face should be angled in my direction.

He did that rippling thing, but he was clearly not in a good way and not able to shift forms. All he managed was a momentary partial shift. His face—the face he’d chosen for himself that morning—flickered into place, and those eyes connected with mine. His expression was stoic, if strained, but his eyes burned with intensity.

It was barely a split second and then it was gone, his true form back in place. The four guards facing him at attention didn’t even seem to notice.

What did that look mean? Was he hoping I was coming to rescue him? Or was he about to alert them to my escape so he could use their distraction to get away himself?

I didn’t wait to find out.

Turning on my heel, I pushed the fire door open and started climbing. There were no stairs down, confirming my suspicion that we were underground. Two flights of stairs brought me to an external door.

I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t spelled to raise an alarm if it was opened, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. For all I knew, Zey’s guards were already heading for me as he made his own escape.

I rushed out into the chilly Melbourne night. The door slammed closed behind me as I picked up my pace, needing to get as far away from the building as possible.

It started to drizzle lightly, and a teeny-tiny pang of guilt shot through my chest as the rain made me think of Zey. He’d surely turn his head up to the sky, soaking every fine droplet in through that weird skin of his.

At the edge of the lane, I glanced back. The area was empty, the building quiet. I peeked around the corner to the front doors. Light spilled out onto the street from the lobby where a guard stood smoking a cigarette and scrolling through his phone. Surely all guards would’ve been called back if they’d realized I was missing.

Zey hadn’t ratted me out after all.

With no time to question my decisions, I turned and started walking in the opposite direction. He’d shown up and turned my life upside down out of nowhere. I didn’t owe him anything. I had to take care of myself—no one else would. That’s how it had always been, and this situation couldn’t be any different.

I was doing what I had to do.

If our places were reversed, and it had been you chained up in that basement, would you have ratted him out to get yourself free?A small, irritating voice in the back of my head asked.

I would’ve done what I had to do. I was not going to go down for something I wasn’t guilty of.

But he’d stayed silent. He’d allowed you to escape.

I gritted my teeth, beyond pissed that I was feeling even alittlebit guilty for leaving him down there. What the hell was I supposed to do? I was good, but I wasn’t take-on-four-guards-at-once-on-my-own good. We both would’ve ended up in chains.

I forced the thoughts out of my mind and concentrated on my surroundings.

The streets were busy with people on their way to dinner or leaving work late, but they weren’t packed.

The group of people crossing the street on a diagonal were not easy to miss. I slowed my steps as I realized what was happening.

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