Dark Secrets - Linsey Hall Page 0,49

it easy to imagine him as a leopard.

Faint footsteps sounded up ahead, and I peered around Grey’s shoulder. A hallway joined with our current one. Someone was headed in our direction. My heart rate jumped, and I tightened my grip on my stunner bomb, ready to throw it.

A guard dressed in black tactical wear like Grey’s appeared in the intersection. Shock flashed across the man’s face when he spotted us.

“Intruders. You shouldn’t be back here.” He raised his hand, magic sparking around his palm, and hurled the blast at us.

Grey lunged forward, dodging the blast and punching the guard in the face.

The man’s head snapped back, and he staggered. Grey grabbed him before he fell, hauling him upright, but

the man sagged, unconscious.

“Nice hit,” Quinn said, sounding impressed.

“Thanks. Carrow, can you get his belt?”

I quickly unhooked it, and Grey turned him around. Wrapping the guard’s wrists together, I bound them tightly behind his back. Then I knelt and untied his shoelaces, binding his ankles together in a triple knot he couldn’t reach even if he tried. Last, I took the knife Quinn handed me and used it to tear off a strip of his shirt to gag him.

“There’s a closet here.” Quinn held open the door he’d found, and Grey stuffed the unconscious body inside.

The whole ordeal had taken less than a minute, and we were on our way once more.

When we reached the main foyer that led toward the meeting room, Quinn peeled off. “Listen for the alarm,” he said, his gaze on mine. “And good luck.”

“You, too. Get out of here after you’ve deployed it. Don’t get caught without backup.”

He nodded, then looked at Grey. “Take care of her.”

I raised my eyebrows. “How about we take care of each other?”

Quinn grinned. “Sure.”

“Boys.” I shook my head as he hurried toward the doors he planned to set with a trigger-based alarm.

“This way.” Grey’s voice was low as he led me down another hall and up a wide staircase to the next floor. “I believe his office is over here.”

There was no one about as we walked, but I kept my senses on high alert. Tension hung heavy in the air as we moved through the old stone corridors, our footsteps silent on the wide wooden floorboards. Tapestries and dim sconces dotted the walls, giving the place an ancient feel.

At the end of the hall, we reached a wide door marked with Ubhan’s name. The script was gold and gaudy, and I raised an eyebrow. “That’s very appropriate for him.”

Grey’s lips twitched as he inspected the door, hovering his hands over the wood. Intricate carvings decorated the stone surrounding the frame. I’d bet my last adult juice box there was a spell on this door.

“It’s enchanted,” Grey confirmed. “Protective spells to lock it.”

“Good thing I came prepared.” I reached into the bag Eve had packed for me and withdrew a small silver stone, a spell reader. Hopefully, it would give us an idea of what protected his office.

Carefully, I ran it over the door, holding it close to the wood but not so close that it touched. When I ran it past the carved stones around the door jam, it vibrated slightly. I pointed to the spot. “The enchantment is there.”

“Can that stone break the protection charm?”

“Eve said that it can break some charms, but not all. This seems to be too strong.” I glanced down the hall, my heart racing faster. We were exposed. Any second, someone might walk by.

“The carvings on the stones say something, but I can’t decipher it,” Grey said.

“Same.” There were twelve of them, each about ten centimeters square, positioned at regular intervals around the door. I pressed my fingertips to one, calling on my magic. How do we open you?

I had a vision of myself stepping on one of the stones set into the floor in front of the door, but nothing about the carved stones around the door jam. They were important, though. I could feel it.

I withdrew my hand. “Let’s ask the others.”

I took my phone from my pocket and snapped a picture, then texted it to Eve with a note that said:

The protective spell on Ubhan’s door. Any idea how we get in?

My phone buzzed with a reply about thirty seconds later:

Seraphia says they are the months of the year, written in Sanskrit. Press them in order.

The end of the text included the translations for the months.

“Thank fates we have a friend who’s a librarian.” I raised my hand, ready to press