Awesome. Just... awesome.
The butler rises from the bed and collects his things, then heads to the door. “Please feel free to use the intercom if there’s anything you desire,” he says, pointing to a little box on the wall. “Your door is programmed to unlock at sunrise.”
And with that, he exits the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him. A moment later I hear an electronic click, dooming me to my fate. Because I’m a masochist, I run to the door anyway, trying to force it open. But, of course, it doesn’t budge.
I slide down the wall and onto the floor, hugging my knees to my chest, mixed emotions swirling inside of me. Did Magnus know this was what it’d be like here? That I’d basically be a glorified prisoner during my stay? And if so, he was okay with all that?
And while I’m stuck in vampire jail, Jayden’s living it up with those ditzy girls, all wanting to jump his bones. Probably completely forgetting that I even exist.
Seriously, boys can completely suck sometimes.
9
In the movies, we often see our heroine get trapped by the bad guys and though there’s a completely obvious, easy way for her to escape, she doesn’t notice it until moviegoers are literally screaming at her at the top of their lungs to stop being too stupid to live and just go through the freaking window already.
But, let me tell you, when you’re in the same situation yourself, it suddenly doesn’t feel all that black and white. You’re scared, you’re stressing out, and your thought processes aren’t being lubricated by buttery popcorn and a giant diet Coke.
So yeah, it takes me about fifteen minutes and a rousing mind game of “What Would Rayne Do?” to realize that though Rufus locked the door, the large window looking down onto the grounds remains fair game. Especially for a fairy with wings.
Of course first I have to break said window, which, I might add, looks a lot easier in the movies than in real life. In fact, it takes about thirteen exhausting attempts and the assistance of a nearby armchair to finally shatter the glass enough so I can crawl through and climb onto the ledge without cutting myself on the nasty shards jutting out from the frame.
Once outside, I press my back against the wall of the mansion, praying my feet won’t slip out from under me as they seek solid purchase on the ledge, slick from the downpour of rain. My vision reels as I dare look down to the ground, four stories below, and my stomach roils in protest. Suddenly this doesn’t seem like the most genius plan ever after all. To be honest, up until this point I’ve never trusted my wings to take me anywhere I couldn’t already jump and live to tell the tale. Rayne once dared me to fly off the Stratosphere Hotel in Las Vegas but I wasn’t having any of that, let me tell you. Heights are so not my thing.
Lightning slashes through the sky, followed by thunder that seems to shake the whole manor house. More than half of me wants to just climb back inside—to wait until morning and figure out a less death- defying escape plan.
But then I see my sister’s disappointed face. And I hear Magnus telling me I need to stay home where it’s safe. No one believes I can be the kick-ass twin. I need to prove them wrong. And what better opportunity to do so than to jump off a four-story window ledge in the pouring rain?
Sucking in a breath and closing my eyes, I unfurl my wings and...
Okay, I know you’re expecting me to say “jump,” but to be honest, that might be overstating my next move a bit. Fine, I’ll admit it. I fell. But you try reaching behind your back to pull your wings out from under your shirt on a ledge that’s about three inches wide without having your foot slip.
And so I fall, careening toward the ground, wings still trying desperately to unfurl. I’m like a paratrooper whose chute didn’t open and I’m quite positive I’m soon to become intimately acquainted with the ground below.
Oh God, I should have stayed in my room! Accepted my non-kick-ass twin status and—A gust of wind catches my wings, launching me upward again like the second part of the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror ride at Disney World. I suck in a breath, readying myself for another tumble, but luckily life isn’t like a Disney ride and instead of a second drop, the wind guides me gently to the ground again. I won’t claim my landing was a perfect ten, by any means, but I don’t seem to have any broken bones, so that’s something at least.
I let out a long breath, trying to still my wildly beating heart, rejoicing in the feel of solid ground beneath my feet. Seriously, if I ever manage to get out of all this alive, I’m so going to take flying lessons over the summer when I’m visiting Mom in Fairyland. Gathering my courage, I start traversing the perimeter of the old Victorian mansion as rain sluices down, soaking me to the skin. I shiver as I slip around a corner, praying to find an open door so I can grab Jayden and the two of us can make our escape.
Instead, just my luck, I come face-to-face with a nasty-looking guard dog.
I back up slowly, holding my hands out in front of me. “Good boy,” I try, my voice hoarse and barely audible over the wind and rain. “Sit. Stay. Um, roll over?”
But the dog evidently doesn’t have a solid grasp on the English language or just prefers to do his own thing and, instead of obeying my simple commands, steps forward, baring his teeth, a low growl emitting from his throat.
Yikes. My eyes dart around, desperate for an escape route. I know at any moment he’ll lunge at me full force and my daring, amazing, cool-as-hell escape will mean nothing as I literally become dog meat.