A Little Wicked (The Bewitching Hour Book #4)(12)

Sam’s eyes bounced around the room; a second later, he could practically see the light bulb go off. “We need to go up.” She ran to the closest corner. She pointed to a table and they each started to slide it to the wall. Sam immediately climbed on top and stood in front of the air vent.

“You’re kidding,” he said under his breath as she held a hand over the grate until the screws came undone. Her magic seemed under control. He had a feeling he should be happy about that, but it was just one more thing leading to his unease.

As soon as the grate was off, she stepped aside and pointed to the vent that barely looked big enough for her, let alone him. “Go on,” she said.

“You first.” He could already tell she was about to give him pushback, so he stepped in close and bent in until their foreheads almost touched. “You first or I don’t go at all,” he warned, not willing to waste time arguing about this.

She must’ve believed him because she started to climb up. He went to give her a boost up, but she was able to get enough leverage between her foot on the wall and the grip on the vent that she made it inside in no time.

As soon as she was in, he started up. She was stopped a few feet inside the vent and looked behind at him. It was a tight fit, but he did in fact make it through. His holster caught on the metal side of the vent, so he took the gun out, and after taking out the clip so he didn’t accidentally shoot Sam or himself, he started to follow her. The vent was dirty and damn near suffocating, but he’d rather be here than dealing with Abigail right now. Luckily, they only crawled for about twenty feet before Sam used her magic to slam at another vent, giving them an escape.

Considering they were going out head first, he didn’t see exactly how Sam managed to get out without falling on her head, but she was there and standing when it was his turn. He had a feeling that if she weren’t there, he would’ve ended up with a concussion. The room they were in was a bedroom, but it didn’t look used. Probably one of the many spares in the compound.

“Who the hell has vents like that?” He took in a deep breath of non-dust-filled air.

“It’s an oxygen suppression system.” Sam brushed the dust off herself. “Comes in handy when fires are a possibility.”

Oh yeah. Considering Sam had burnt down the last family home, that probably would be useful.

“Why wasn’t she coming after us?” Sam moved to the window to look out at the front yard, probably checking to see whether the coast was clear.

Derek balled his hands into fists and blinked a few times. The pepper spray was still burning, but he tried to push it to the back of his mind. No time to rinse out his eyes right now.

He didn’t tell her what he was thinking about that room being a trap. They’d originally come here to stop the partygoers from being in danger, but right now.... He didn’t think there was anything they could do. They’d barely made it out of there alive, and not one person seemed to notice their quick exit. He hated to admit it, but they might need Claudia to get this taken care of.

“We need to go,” he said without telling Sam his fears. He went to the window and started to open it when the screams started. He froze. Everything in him wanted to go help, but a part of him, a deep part he so rarely let surface, held him back.

It wasn’t him logically going through the possibilities and deciding that he couldn’t make it in time or call up the manpower to deal with Abigail.

It was fear. The dark fear faced when he was a rookie cop. The fear whenever he would check the mail after his brother went missing in action. The fear he felt when he’d brought an unconscious Sam to her grandmother and begged for help.

“Let’s go.” He got the window open. But when he turned to Sam, she was already slipping out the door.

He cursed under his breath as he followed her, but she hadn’t gone far. She leaned against one of the closed doors that led to the ballroom, looking through the crack where the screams were coming from.

He came up behind her and she crouched lower so he could take the space higher up on the door to look into the ballroom. The music had stopped and the screams died down to a few shudders.

And to add to the strangeness of it all, the sprinklers were on in the ballroom. He supposed that if there was an oxygen suppression system to stop fires, it made sense there would be sprinklers as well. Some of the people on the ground had their arms over their head as though shielding themselves from the water, but he couldn’t see any obvious burns or anything coming from the water. So what were they shielding themselves from?

The door in the back opened and Abigail and Garrett walked into the room, neither seeming concerned as they were drenched in the downpour. Then, one by one, the guests started to stand. They didn’t seem scared or confused. They stood and went utterly still, looking straight ahead with blank expressions. Expressions just like Garrett’s.

Derek reached down to Sam’s shoulder and gave her a little squeeze. There was nothing more for them to see here.

She gave some resistance, but he was able to pull her away from the door as they ran for the main exit. There wasn’t a single person between them and the Crown Vic. Derek tossed Sam the keys and let her take the wheel. For one, she knew the area better than him. Secondly, his eyes were still burning.

He knew that what happened had been confusing for him. But this was personal for Sam. Her mother wasn’t her mother. Her friends were all possessed by something that was supposed to be dead and gone.