The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines #3)(89)

As it turned out, someone entered. A man came whistling down the hall. When he reached the door, the smell of fast-food hamburgers gave away his lunch choice. I held my breath as he scanned his card and punched in the numbers. The lock clicked, and he pushed the door open. I scurried in behind him and cleared the door without having to catch it or open it farther. Unfortunately, he came to a halt sooner than I expected, and I brushed against him. I immediately shrank away, and he scanned around, startled.

Please don't think there's an invisible person here. How terrible would that be to have made it this far, only to be detected now? Fortunately, magical subterfuge wasn't the first thing Alchemists turned to as a reason for anything. After a few more puzzled moments, he shrugged and called a greeting to one of his coworkers.

Wade had described the room perfectly. Monitors covered one wall, flipping back and forth between different camera views. A couple of guards kept an eye on the footage, while others worked away at computers. Wade had also told me which workstation contained the files I needed. I approached it - careful to avoid any other contact mishaps. A woman was already seated at the station.

"I was thinking of Thai carryout," she told one of her coworkers. "I've just got to finish this report."

No! She was about to take her lunch break. For my plan to work, that couldn't happen. If she left, she would lock her computer. I needed it accessible for this plan to work. She was running late on her lunch, which meant I had to act now.

This room wasn't exempt from surveillance. Even the watchers had watchers. Fortunately, there was only one camera. I selected an empty computer with a screen facing the camera and stood behind it. Wires and cords snaked out of the computer's panel, and the fans whirred steadily inside. I rested my hand on the panel and did one more quick assessment. The computer's back was out of the camera's view, but it would do no good if it was in the middle of someone else's line of vision. Everyone seemed preoccupied, though. It was time to act.

I created a fireball - a small one. I kept it in the palm of my hand and rested it right next to the panel. Despite its size, I summoned as much heat as I could. Not quite blue, but getting there. It took effect quickly, and within seconds, the cords and panel began to melt. The scent of burnt plastic rolled over me, and smoke drifted upward. It was enough. I let the fireball fade, and then I sprinted away from the computer just in time. Everyone had now noticed the burning computer. An alarm went off. There were cries of surprise, and someone yelled for a fire extinguisher. They all rose from their chairs to hurry over and look - including the woman who'd been at the computer I needed.

There was no time to waste. I sat immediately in her chair and plugged in the thumb drive. With gloved hands, I grabbed hold of the mouse and began clicking through directories. Wade hadn't been able to help much at this point. We'd just hoped finding the files would be intuitive. All the while, I was conscious of the time - and that someone might notice a mouse moving by itself. Even after they put out the fire, the Alchemists hovered around the smoking computer, trying to figure out what had happened. Overheating wasn't uncommon, but a fire happening that quickly definitely was. And these were computers that contained highly sensitive information.

I felt like there were a million directories. I checked a few likely candidates, only to hit a dead end. Each time I hit a dead end, I would silently swear at the wasted time. The other Alchemists weren't going to stay away forever! Finally, after more stressful searching, I found a directory of old surveillance footage. It contained folders linked to every camera in the building - including one marked MAIN CHECKPOINT. I clicked it open and found files named by date. Wade had told me that eventually these files were cleared and moved to archives, but the day I needed was still here. The cameras recorded one frame every second. Multiplied by twenty-four hours, that made for a huge file - but not nearly the size continuous filming would create. The file would fit on my thumb drive, and I began copying it over.

The connection was fast, but it was still a big transfer. The screen told me it had ten seconds to go. Ten seconds. The computer's owner could be back by then. I allowed myself another peek at the Alchemists. They were all still puzzling out the mystery. The thing about scientists like us was that a technological failure like this was fascinating. Also, it never occurred to any of them to look for a supernatural explanation. They tossed around theories with each other and started to take the melted computer apart. My file finished copying, and I sprang out of the chair, just as the woman began walking back toward it. I'd been fully prepared to risk another "ghost door" while they were distracted, but the fire alarm had summoned others in the hallway. People moved in and out with such frequency that I had no trouble holding the door open just long enough for me to sneak through.

I practically ran back to the archives level and had to calm myself when I reentered the restroom. I uncast the invisibility spell and waited for my breathing to slow. The thumb drive was back in my bra, the gloves back in my purse. Studying myself in the mirror, I decided that I looked innocent enough to return to the archives.

One of the scribes let me in. It was the engrossed girl, and she gave me a look that said opening the door was a waste of her time. Ian still appeared to be engulfed with work in the back, which was a relief. I'd been gone far longer than a bathroom trip would require and had worried he'd wonder where I was at. Things could've gone badly if he'd sent the girl to find me, both because I wasn't in the restroom and because she'd be really annoyed at the interruption. Over in the history section, I sat on the floor with a book picked at random, which I only pretended to read. I was too anxious and keyed up to parse the words, no matter how many times I tried to reassure myself. There was no reason for the Alchemists to suspect me of causing the fire. There was no reason for them to think I'd stolen data. There was no reason for them to think I was connected to any of this.