Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere by Bella Forrest Page 0,82

five o’clock on that evening. They couldn’t have seen you Purge, or what you Purged.”

I fell silent, tears threatening. I had nothing left to convince her. It had been a hopeless endeavor from the get-go. She was hell-bent on making these pixies pay, and, maybe, if I were in her position, I’d think the same thing. And without a better explanation, I didn’t have a leg to stand on. She thought I’d gone soft on my Purges, and she was right. I did have an affection for them, but so what? Santana carried her Purge beast around on her shoulders most of the time, and nobody batted an eyelid. It wasn’t a weakness.

“I think it best that you stay here for the duration.” Victoria broke the tense silence. “I want to trust you, Persie, but your ability is still beyond your control. And you have clearly been compromised, which is nothing to be ashamed of—I’ve been fond of a few of my Purges. However, it does mean your involvement in the pixie hunt ends here. And I mean it this time.”

“Please, Victoria…” I had nothing left to say.

She smiled sadly. “Once this is over, we can continue our work in helping you control your ability. You’ve shown great promise by catching those five pixies tonight, and I do thank you for that, but it isn’t the right time.” She moved away from me. “For now, I need to get seven people back from wherever they were taken. So, please, don’t make me come back here. Follow the rules, for everyone’s sake.”

As she went to the door and opened it, one last idea exploded in my head. “At least talk to my mom about this. Please. She’s dealing with missing magicals, too. It could be related!”

“We are concerned with pixies, not what your mother is investigating.” Victoria looked back. “Indeed, if I know the US and its magical secrecy, you shouldn’t even have told me that.”

She walked out without another word. The door closed behind her with a damning click followed by the subtle thrum of hexes kicking back into action, and tears began to trickle down my cheeks.

O’Halloran had cast me out of my own home, I had dreams of the people I loved putting me in a box, my parents were on the other side of an ocean, I’d been marched out of the engineering lab like a traitor while everyone gossiped and whispered about me, and yet this was the moment where I felt more helpless and alone than I ever had before.

To add insult to injury, the loudspeaker kicked in fifteen minutes later, and Victoria’s warning went out to the Institute, loud and bitterly clear: “We are now on code red lockdown. Hunters, this is now a matter of life and death. Lethal force may be used on the enemy. Everyone else, remain in your rooms until you are otherwise instructed. Do not be alarmed that comms have been blocked in and out of the Institute. It is necessary to avoid interference with hunting devices and will resume function when it is safe to do so. Internal calls can still be made, if you feel isolated and need to speak someone. Any disobedience will result in hexed imprisonment for the duration. We are in this together. Have courage. We will not fail, as long as everyone does their part.”

I’m sorry, pixies. I tried…

Nineteen

Genie

No need for burning invisibility spells when I had razor-sharp reflexes. I’d slunk through the North Wing like a cat burglar. Now, I liked to think I had a decent grasp of surface-world lingo, but I’d never fully understood that term. Did they steal cats? Were they catfooted? That was another weird one. Humans didn’t have foot pads to soften every step. I supposed it didn’t matter. Basically, I was being super stealthy, avoiding hunters like a boss.

But still no friggin’ pixies. It was getting stupid now. I hadn’t even caught a glimpse of one, and I’d been searching for a good hour. At least I had some nice things to think about, to pass the time between non-sightings.

I wondered if Nathan was having better luck. I pictured him James Bonding around the East and West Wings with his specterglass. He still didn’t strike me as the hunting type, but he had to have some skills or he wouldn’t be here. Unless he’d gotten in purely on intellectual merit. I supposed that wasn’t impossible.

It still felt pointless to dwell on him in a romantic sense,