Page 36 of His Angel

Sliding out of the booth, I run my fingers under the edge of the table, again finding nothing. Only, as I turn my head, something catches my eye on the bottom of a saucer.

“Did you say there wasn’t anything over here?” I ask, heading to the pile of discarded crap, a bottle of scotch upended and leaking all over everything.

“Nah, just junk,” Emmerson replies.

Pulling the saucer out, I tip the alcohol off the surface before turning it over.Useless crap my fucking ass.Excitement courses through my veins as I rush to the table, placing it face down.

“Fucking idiot,” Jasper growls, finally seeing the same letter I am. The two of us head straight back over and rummage through the mess, searching out the rest of the cups and saucers, hoping to God the letters haven’t been washed off with all the booze.

Finally, we manage to get them all together and attempt various combinations, but to no avail.

“Try N.E.W.G,” Wyatt offers, his fingers pressed against some letters on the note.

Unsurprisingly, the code accepts, and we pull the key from the box, rushing to the door with only four minutes to go. It’s closer than I’d have liked, but at least we’re out. But all the anxious anticipation fizzing around my body solidifies when the key won’t turn.

Fuck.

It doesn’t fit.

With a groan, Emmerson says, “Boys, what about this?”

He stands in front of an ancient cast-iron safe, the kind you’d expect in an old Western movie. As everyone stands there, stock still, disappointment pouring from them in waves, I grab the key and stuff it in the lock, spinning the wheel as fast as I can, praying, once again, that this doesn’t have yet another riddle in it.I should have paid more attention to that book the other day.

It feels like a lifetime, but it’s not even a minute before I’m pulling the door open to find another lock box and no clue where to start.

“Fuck,” I yell, slamming the damn thing loudly on the table before gathering everything else up and placing it in the rejects pile.That’s the very place we’re fucking going if we’re not careful.

“We don’t even have enough time left tobuya fucking clue,” Jasper says, as if we aren’t all astutely aware of this fact, sweat slicking down my back.

Exasperatedly, I look around the trashed room, more and more aware as each second ticks away that the air must be getting hotter, and thicker. Four men trapped in a small room for an hour will do that to you.

But there’s nothing left here that could even hold a clue. Emmerson zeros in on the seat bench, attempting to pry the cushion top off like there might be something hidden beneath, but there won’t be. Even so, there’s no point in telling him that.

“Two minutes,” Jasper says.

I throw him a glare, but all he manages is a shrug in reply. He’s given up, and to be fair, I kind of have too. I’m hanging all my hopes on Wyatt finding something inside this note. He’s been bang on the money for the last three, so why not for one last time?

“I can’t just sit here,” I grumble, looking around the room yet again. Getting up, I open the cupboard doors, checking through the discarded pile again. It worked last time…

“One minute,” Jasper counts down.

What happens when that timer runs out?

This is just a game, right?

There isn’t really going to be some kind of gun-toting axe-murderer coming through that door, is there?

I guess Emmerson thinks there is as he grabs one of the discarded metal optics brackets and gives it a few testing swings, but all eyes fly to Wyatt as he grabs the box, punching in a code.

I’m sure the entire room holds its collective breath as we wait to see if it opens, but it doesn’t.

“Shit,” Jasper hisses, edging closer to the exit and eyeing the door we came in warily. “If anyone has any last-minute ideas, now would be a good time to share them.”

“Hold up,” Wyatt says, punching in another set of letters. “I think… I’ve got it.”

The lock box disengages as he yanks it open and pulls out a key. We’re all huddling by the door, the seconds counting down in single digits.Talk about cutting it fine.

Wyatt turns the key just as the numbers stop and the entrance lock disengages. My gaze flicks to the mild panic hidden in his as he pulls the door back, the opposite one mirroring the motion as he takes the key and the four of us file out.

---