Sorceress, Interrupted - By A. J. Menden Page 0,80

felt like a spring ready to uncoil. As I turned the corner, I was ready to have all sorts of horrible things jump out at me. The noise was coming from Cyrus’s bedroom.

I paused at the door but then quickly hit the button to open it, not sure of what I was going to find. Decapitated bodies? Torture victims? A scary clown doll, like I’d seen in the one movie I ever bothered to sit through?

I found Cyrus in front of his computer, furiously typing. He was wearing those sound-canceling headphones, great big things that covered his whole ear. As I got closer, I heard blaring heavy metal music.

I wanted to hit him for causing me worry, but I checked that impulse and instead leaned over him and pulled one headphone away from his ear to say, “Hi there.”

He jumped about a mile, causing me to stumble back to avoid getting knocked over. He quickly spun in his chair to face me. “Jesus! You scared the hell out of me,” he said, like I’d been skulking around the place purposely to give him a fright.

I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned. “You scared the hell out of me, not answering as I’m walking around these empty halls. Just where the hell is everyone?”

“They all went to Washington. They’re having a big meeting with the president and his staff to try to calm everyone down so they don’t do anything foolish, like pay up to your little friend in the hope that he’ll be nice and go away.” He shook his head. “Honestly, when has any villain ever just gone away after getting what he wants? They just come back with some other demand, or they try to blow up the world for kicks anyway.”

“All of the EHJ went to this meeting?”

“Yeah,” Cyrus said. “They thought it’d be better if the whole team made an appearance.”

I eyed him pointedly.

He shrugged, catching my meaning. “I was told that since I’m just on the reserve roster I get a pass to continue working.”

I smirked. “More like they didn’t want you saying anything bad in front of the president.”

“That, too.” He grinned. “Probably why they didn’t invite you either.”

“So,” I asked, ignoring his gibe. “What are you working on?”

“I’m back examining what Chad was working on before he got taken out,” Cyrus said, pointing to his monitor. “I’m trying to find and hack it, so maybe we can trace it back to the source. From there we can get to Dylan.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Considering who it’s already taken down, sounds like it’ll just drain you and kill you.”

“What’s life without a little bit of danger?” Cyrus muttered, continuing to work.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to be looking for that virus and spell this way,” I continued. “This is likely what happened to Chad: he saw it and it got him. Those civilians saw it and it got them, remember? Therefore, if you see it, it will get you,” I reminded him. It wasn’t like me to be so bossy, but he didn’t seem to be thinking this through very well.

“I’m being careful,” he said.

“People always say they’re being careful when they’re not, and then something bad happens.”

“Well, I am being careful, and nothing bad is going to happen.” Cyrus continued clicking his keyboard. “I’m going to hack this site, but at the same time I’m running a protection spell so I won’t be affected by what I find.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.”

“It is,” Cyrus said. “You should watch me walk and chew gum at the same time.” He squinted at the screen. “Almost there.”

I looked at him. “I really don’t think—”

That, of course, was when it happened.

The computer’s speakers erupted with some sort of horrible, squealing feedback. I almost turned to look where the sound was originating but checked the impulse just in time. Cyrus’s body jumped and writhed, like he was being electrocuted—or being drained like the other victims. Strange words were pouring out of his mouth, and it took me a moment to realize that it was an endless loop of numbers in a number of foreign languages. He was speaking binary code, which was how he cast major spells.

I took immediate action, even though I knew Cyrus would be furious with me if he lived through this. Picturing the computer and its monitor in my mind—there was no way I was risking actually looking, even with all my protections—I thundered out the word,