Just a little farther. Make it to the door.
When he reached the end of the hall, he saw an elevator on one side and a stairwell on the other. Both led in the same direction: down.
Good enough.
Just as he reached the first stair, he heard louder voices coming from below him. But he had an even bigger problem. The voices behind him were suddenly growing closer, and unless he continued down the stairs, whoever was coming would definitely see him.
At that moment, Nox wished he had the ability to Travel. Unfortunately, no Incubus had lost that ability to him in one of his high-stakes card games yet. What was in his arsenal of TFPs? Among all the talents, favors, and powers he’d won at his clubs, there had to be something.
Come on. Think.
Then it came to him.
The Evo.
He’d been saving this particular power in case he needed it to get Ridley out of the labs, but if he got caught before he found her, it would be worthless.
An Evo had lost his powers to Nox in the same winner-take-all series of Liar’s Trade that Ridley had almost won. It had been a nasty game, but Nox remembered it fondly. It was that night that had first brought Ridley into his club.
Evos had the ability to Morph and make themselves look and sound like anyone they wanted—a power Nox could use right about now.
Nox pulled the queen of hearts out of his jacket pocket and whispered the words to make the power his. At least temporarily.
Quid opus est me.
Make me who I want to be.
Morphing into Silas was too risky, considering he could be somewhere in the labs right now. So Nox picked someone else.
Someone insignificant and unnoticeable. Someone who could move through the hallways without attracting any attention.
The tingle started in his toes and traveled up his legs and torso until it felt more like a sting, only one that radiated across his entire body. He glanced down at his arms, now hidden beneath a white lab coat, and flexed the fingers that looked nothing like his own.
It’s done.
Nox caught a glimpse of the woman first, as she came up the stairs. She was abnormally tall—most likely a Darkborn.
The Incubus next to her looked like one of Silas’ standard thugs. He glanced at Nox. “What are you doin’ here, Doc? I thought you said you were leaving.”
“I am,” Nox said. “I was just finishing up a few things.” Nox realized how lucky he was that he’d heard the guy in the lab coat talking in the hallway. Even an Evo couldn’t impersonate someone else’s voice unless they had actually heard it before.
The Darkborn hesitated for a moment and gave Nox a strange look.
Nox shrugged.
All he could think about was Sampson’s crazy instincts. He had no idea how far they extended, or if they were unique to Sampson.
Please don’t ask where I’m going, since I have no clue.
The Incubus hit the Darkborn on the shoulder lightly. “Let’s go.”
She nodded. “Take it easy, Doc.”
A moment later, he heard the two of them talking to someone else. They must’ve caught up with whoever was coming.
Nox rushed down the stairs, careful to keep his footsteps silent. The tingling had turned back into a sting, and he didn’t know how much longer this Evo power would last. That was the problem with borrowed powers; they were unstable by nature. And the more powerful the Caster they belonged to was, the longer they lasted. The guy who had lost his powers to Nox must have been pretty low on the food chain.
The sting of the power fading was worse than the one he’d felt when it took hold, and he had to stop at the bottom of the stairs to catch his breath. He stared down as the hairy, middle-aged hands transformed back into his own.
No. Not yet.
I still haven’t done what I came here to do.
He pushed through the set of doors at the foot of the staircase and came face to face with a row of bars—
Behind it, a room full of cells—most of them occupied, though he couldn’t make out the faces of the prisoners from here. Except for one in the very last cell—
Ridley Duchannes.
She gripped the bars as if they were the only things holding her up. Her pink-streaked blond hair snaked through them, curling off her shoulders in every direction.
Her hands were filthy, her fingernails black and ragged.
Nox approached the cell quietly so he wouldn’t disturb the others. “Ridley? It’s me. Nox.”
“Nox?” Her voice trembled, but she didn’t look up. She said it as if the word meant something more than just his name.
Relief flooded through him. “I thought I’d lost you.”
He curled his hands around the bars between them. Even then, he still didn’t dare touch her. She seemed so confused and scared, he wasn’t sure she was entirely herself.
She looks fine, though. For someone who survived a traumatic accident.
He knelt down until his head was only inches from hers. “I would’ve ripped Silas apart if he’d touched a single hair on your head.”
Her hands trembled, and she still wouldn’t look at him.
Nox slid his fingers down the rough metal, closer to hers, and she held on tighter.
Slowly—gently—Nox let his fingers graze hers. “Shh. You don’t have to say anything. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. But it’s over now.”
Her fingers relaxed into his.
They stayed like that for a moment, leaning in toward each other as if there were no bars between them.
Ridley reached out until her fingers curled under his jaw, barely grazing his neck. “Nox,” she breathed.