"Ignis!" Abby shouted, her voice trembling with fear.
Gold and scarlet sparked from her hands. But no fire. "Dammit," she muttered. She took in a deep breath and yelled again: "Ignis!"
A shower of sparks flew from her fingers. The monsters took no notice, and slowly advanced.
"Ouch!" I shrieked and looked down. A squat, green creature latched onto my leg, gnashing pointed little teeth. One of the gremlins.
"Ignis!" Nothing. "Ignis!" More sparks. "Dragon, go!"
Pssssshhhhmmm.
A thick stream of fire shot from her hands. It reassembled into a dragon, curling up towards the ceiling, almost as big as its real counterpart. The monsters fell back, shrieking in horror.
Ding!
"Get in the elevator!" Abby yelled. "And get ready to close the door!"
I stepped back. Abby followed, her eyes trained on the fire-dragon emanating from her hands. Her boot landed on the carpeted floor—I pushed the door close button.
But then a horrible sound pierced my ears.
"Help me! Help me, please!"
I looked up to see a man at the far end of the room.
He ran through the aisles of cages, his figure illuminated by the flames. Screaming in pure terror. An enormous, three-headed hound bounded after him, pendulous drops of drool swinging from its mouth.
No.
There'd been someone in the basement with us.
And now he was going to die.
The fire-dragon flickered and died. The elevator doors began to rumble shut. I leapt forward, between them, and pushed them open with all my might. First, they resisted; then, they gave, retracting back into the wall.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Abby screamed. "Close the door!" She reached over me and pounded the button. The doors jittered forward.
"We can't leave him behind!"
"What are you talking about?!"
The sphinxes licked their lips, snakelike tongues flicking out of their mouths. The Genini grinned crookedly, fangs glinting in the dim light. The gremlin bleated and hawed, its cat-like eyes staring intently at us.
"Wait!" he screamed. "Please, wait for me!"
Abby grabbed my shoulders and yanked me back. The gap narrowed as the doors rumbled forward. "What are you doing?! He's going to die!" I thrashed against her, but her hands burned red-hot into my skin.
Thump.
A black boot smacked down on the carpeted floor. Followed by a jeaned calf. "Thank you, thank you," he panted, as he squeezed inside. He wiped his blond hair off his forehead, and then his blue eyes locked on mine.
The doors clicked shut.
I turned to Abby. She didn't even look at him. She just stood there, in the corner of the elevator, staring at the ground. Anger burned in my heart. She was going to let him die. How could she?! She told me we were all family here.
Yeah, right.
Abby pulled the radio from her belt. "Emergency, B2. All creatures out. Send a team to..."
Her voice faded to a meaningless hum. I looked back to the handsome stranger, relief coursing through my veins. He looked down at me, breaking into a smile that flecked his cheeks with dimples.
"Thank you," he whispered, grabbing my hand with his. It was calloused and warm. "You saved my life. There's no way I can ever repay you."
He was an unusual kind of handsome. His large nose overpowered the rest of his face, and his blue eyes sparkled. His smile was the infectious kind—spreading across his face, reaching his eyes, as if we'd just shared some secret joke.
But before I could muster the courage to ask his name—ding. The doors opened to the first floor. The man gave me one last smile, then stepped off the elevator. The doors slid shut.
"What were you trying to tell me?" Abby asked, putting her radio away.
"What?"
"Just a moment ago, you said something."
I scoffed. "Uh, I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to the guy."
"What guy?"
The anger flared in my chest. "The guy that you almost killed."
"Kira, what are you talking about?"
"The guy that was just in the elevator!" I exploded. "You wanted to close the doors before he got in! Just leave him there, to be eaten by sphinxes! What's wrong with you?!"
Abby grabbed my arms, softly.
"Kira, there wasn't anyone in the elevator. Just you and me." She pushed the button for floor 4. "I'm going to take you to the medical ward, okay? I think you're in shock. I'm so, so sorry. It was all my fault... I should've never brought you down there."
"What? I'm fin—"
"Ssshh, everything will be okay," she said, pulling me into a tight hug I couldn't escape from.
CHAPTER SIX
The nurses were lizard people.
That's not a conspiracy theory. They were literally lizard people. A nurse named Beth was taking care of me in Examination Room 4. She wore her blond hair in a carefully coiffed style, and red lipstick that popped against her green skin.
"You're free to go, Kira."
"But she was hallucinating!" Abby interjected, distraught. Small, sad sparks fizzled from her hands. "Are you sure there's nothing wrong with her?"
The nurse held up a scaly, manicured hand. "I’m not sure she was hallucinating, Abby. You might have just missed this man she’s talking about. She seems perfectly fine to me."
“Thanks, Beth,” I said.
“Come back in if anything else like that happens. Otherwise, you’re good.” She smiled at us, then disappeared down the hall, green tail swinging with each step.
"Well, I guess that's it, then." I started to sit up.
Abby quickly pushed me back down. My head thumped painfully against the pillow. "No! You need your rest. You heard what the nurse said."
"The nurse said I was fine!"
"Sssssshhhh." Abby patted my head as if I were a four-year-old, and pulled the blanket over me. "Just rest."
"No. I want to talk to Gavin." I swatted her hand away and climbed off the bed.
"Wait!"
Before she could grab me again, I ran out of the room. I spotted the elevator at the far end of the hall and broke into a run. I mashed down the button—ding!—stepped in. "Wait!" Abby called, running down the hallway. "Hold the door! Hold the—"
Click.
The doors closed.
The elevator lurched upwards.
I stared at my reflection in the mirrored walls. My dark, shoulder-length hair was wild, frizzing around my face like a halo. My dark eyes stared back, wide and fearful.
Less than an hour ago, he was in here with me.
He was real. Right? I saw him, plain as day. His face burned into my memory—striking blond hair, blue eyes. Chiseled jaw, large nose. I could pick him out of a lineup, if I had to. Describe him to a sketch artist.
Abby must've just been too preoccupied with calling for help to notice him.
Ding! The thoughts scattered. I stepped out and walked towards Gavin's office with determination, despite my wild hair and sweaty clothes. I had to tell him. To ask him everything. They were probably questions he couldn't answer—but I was going to ask anyway.
When I got to the office, I stopped dead in my tracks.
Gavin was lying, face-down, on the floor.
Paperclips scattered the place. Strewn across the floor, the desk, the chair. He reached out, grabbed one, and held it in front of his face. "Fifty-six," he said to himself in a fascinated whisper.
Then—plop—he dropped it into a plastic container.
"Gavin?"
He jumped. "Oh, I didn't see you there, Kira." He pulled himself into a sitting position, and said in a hurried rush of words: "I've heard about what happened. Glad you're okay."
"Yeah, listen. I need to tell you something."
"Go ahead." He kept his eyes on mine—but his hand shot out in front of him, picking up another paperclip. "Fifty-seven," he whispered.
"What... are you doing?"
"Cleaning up the paperclips
I spilt." Plop. "Fifty-eight."
"Are you... counting them?"
"No." Plop. "Fifty-nine."
"I just heard you whisper 'fifty-nine.'"
"Bloody hell," he whispered to himself. "Okay, yeah, I'm counting them. I have OCD, all right?"
I knotted my eyebrows. "Okay. Whatever. Gavin, when we were down there, I saw something that Abby didn't see. A blond man, entering the elevator. She thinks I was hallucinating, but I think maybe –"
"Sixty."
"I think maybe he was actually there—"
"Sixty-one."
"Can you stop that and just listen to me, for just a second?!"
"No, I can't! I have a condition!" he spat back. Plop. "Sixty-two."
"But I need to tell you—"
"No! You have no respect for other peoples' space! Or privacy! Just barge right in, start asking me questions. Pah."
I stared at him, taken aback. "Fine. I'll come back in ten minutes.” I glanced over all the paperclips. "Or an hour."
I turned on my heel and stomped out. His voice echoed out into the hallway. "Sixty-three. Sixty-four..."
The elevator doors opened, and Abby came rushing out. "Kira! There you are! You... need... to be... resting," she said, panting. "Damn, you run fast. What did Gavin—" She stopped mid-sentence. "Oh... he's counting. We'll have to catch him later."
"He does this often?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Wow. I didn't realize his OCD was that bad."
Abby broke into a shrill fit of giggles. "Oh, is that what he told you?"
"Uh... yeah?"
"He hasn't told you then, has he?"
"Told me what?"
"Oh, no." She shook her head, still snorting with giggles. "That's between you and him. I'm not going to blab on him, as much as I want to."
"But—"
Beep! Beep! Beep!
A loud alarm blared through the building. Red lights flashed near the ceiling, and Thomas's voice cut through the hallway loud and clear.
"Attention. All Hunters, please proceed to Conference Room 1 immediately to discuss the B2 situation. This is not a drill."
Abby and I stared at each other.
Uh-oh.
When we got there, the room was already packed. Abby and I took a seat near the back. Gavin was missing, probably still counting his paperclips.
Thomas stood at the front of the room with a red-haired woman. She was older than any of the other NIMP employees I'd seen so far. Her pale skin was covered in wrinkles, and her blue eyes sagged. A jagged, white scar traced from her ear to her shoulder, disappearing under the sleeves of her sky-blue blouse.
“Who’s that?” I whispered to Abby.
“Sandra Lectford. The head of all the divisions here—not just Hunters, like Thomas is. And she’s… kind of intense.”
"Today, something unfortunate happened," Sandra said, in one of those haughty old-lady voices. The kind you hear when Grandma catches you stealing another cookie. Or making fun of your levitating sister. "We had a security breach in B2. All of the creatures were let free from their cages."
Gasps and murmurs rose from the crowd. Abby and I guiltily looked at our feet.
"Thankfully, we have protocol for this kind of thing. We emitted an aerosolized sleeping potion, and our crew is working hard right now to place the unconscious monsters back in their cages." Her gaze roved around the room. "But have no doubt—the persons responsible for this will face disciplinary action immediately."
My heart dropped.
"Thomas, play the footage."
"Oh—uh, Sandra, do you really think that's—"
"Play it!" she hissed.
Thomas nervously skittered behind her, where a computer was set up. He pressed a few buttons, and a projector screen came down. Then a jittery, blurry image filled the screen.
Pixelated versions of myself and Abby walked down the main aisle. A hushed silence fell over the room, as every employee turn to stare at us.
It took everything I had to keep my eyes glued on the screen.
I held my breath as I saw the long bird leg stick out of the cage. My foot caught on it—I flailed mid-air—and then fell into the button.
That's when the lights went out, and the beasts roiled in the shadows.
"Pause it, Thomas."
He dutifully went over to the laptop and clicked without complaint.
"Do you know who these two women are?"
Several people still stared at us, but none of them were brave enough to speak up.
She continued, in an irritated tone: "They're Abby Rosenstein and a new hire, Kira Steele. Sitting right over there."
Whispers flowed through the crowd. I didn't catch exactly what they said, but I heard Steele repeated a few times.
"The new girl will be shown leniency, as it was only her second day. The other, however..." Sandra's eyes locked on Abby's, and I saw something like a smile flick on her lips.
"She will be terminated immediately."
What?
I looked over at Abby. Her permanent smile was finally gone, and her hand clenched the arm of the seat. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again. In a small voice, she started: "Dr. Lectford, I've worked here for six years. I have a good track record. Not amazing, but, um, pretty good."
"Your termination is not open for discussion," she said curtly.
The smell hit me first. The acrid burn of melting plastic. I looked down—and saw the arm of the chair melting under Abby's hand. "Abby," I whispered.
"Oh. Thanks." She quickly pulled her hand back. Smoke curled up from it, and melted bits of plastic stuck to her fingers.
"With all due respect, Sandra," Thomas interjected softly, "we can't lose Abby. Her success rate is 87%. She's in the top five percent of all—"
Dr. Lectford whipped around. Fear flashed in Thomas's eyes; but she made no move on him. Instead, she replied: "Fine. Then she'll muck out the monster cages for the next six months, instead."
Without another word, she walked across the room. Abby and I bristled as she passed, but she left through the door without so much as a glance in our direction.
"Meeting adjourned, then," Thomas said.
Abby heaved a sigh of relief. "Wow. That was... phew. Glad it's over." She pulled herself out of the seat, melted bits of plastic still stuck to her hand.
"Go on ahead," I said. "I want to talk to Thomas for a minute."
I watched her leave, getting lost in the crowd of people waiting for the door. The commotion faded as the people filed out, and a hushed silence fell over the room.
I stayed behind until everyone was gone. Then I walked to the front of the room.
"Thomas?"
He looked up. "Yes?"
"Can I see the rest of that footage?"
He scanned the room. Finding Sandra gone, his nervous expression faded, and he gave me a quick smile. "Of course, Kira."
I kneeled on the floor, bringing the computer to eye level. Hands shaking, I hit 'play.'
The footage jittered to life. Sparks flew from Abby's hands, lighting up the hulking shadows. Then the fire-dragon burst forth, and we ran into the elevator. The elevator doors began to close, narrowing the slit of white light.
I watched my hands shoot out and push them open.
This is it. My heart pounded in my chest. I held my breath, and my lungs burned. I refused to blink.
No.
The hulking shadow of the hound came into frame—without the blond man.
Then the elevator doors slid shut.
My eyes stung. "That's all I wanted to see. Thanks, Thomas."
"No problem."
I walked up the steps and out into the hall. It was completely empty. Silent. Just me and my thoughts, as I headed to the elevator.
Abby was right. He doesn't exist.
I imagined the whole thing.
Could it be the stress? Like a near-death experience? Or was I going mad in this building, surrounded by strange monsters—and
, to be honest, even stranger people?
Or is it what I know? The thought that burrowed itself deep into my mind, popping up whenever I felt an ounce of insecurity. I don't belong here. Maybe, subconsciously, I was letting my insecurities take hold. Letting them create proof that I wasn't worthy.
A self-fulfilling prophecy.
You're not just powerless.
You're crazy.
The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out. At least, maybe Gavin would be done counting his paperclips.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I walked into Gavin's office. It was paperclip-free—thank goodness—and he was sitting at his desk, a tall glass pressed to his lips.
"Hey, Gavin."
"Kira. I'm so sorry, about earlier. What did you want to tell me?" He set down the glass. Clink. The liquid sloshed.
It was dark red.
"Are you drinking wine at work?"
"It's almost five. Nobody cares."
I took a seat across from him. That's when I noticed there was something... odd... about the wine. The liquid in the glass was too opaque, too thick. I leaned in and a strange, metallic scent filled my nose.
"Is that blood?!"
"No! It's—it's a special type of tea. We Brits, we just love our tea, yeah?" He quickly picked it up and took a swig.
"Can I take a sip then?" I reached for the glass.
"No!" His voice grew frenzied. "It's gourmet tomato juice. I've ordered it online from Italy—very expensive, don’t want to share it—"
"I don't believe you." I walked over to the minifridge, tucked underneath the counter at the back of his office. Wondering what I would find when I opened it.
"Do not open that." He scrambled out of the chair and leapt for me—
Click.
The door swung open.
A large bag of dark red liquid sat inside. The label stuck to it read: O+, harvested 9/23/2019. Not from concentrate.
"Blood." I whipped around to Gavin. His face was contorted in a look of horror. "Mind explaining this to me? What are you, a vampire?"
He scratched madly at his head, as if he were suddenly taken with an intense itch. His eyes darted around the room. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath, and said: "Sort of. I'm a dhampir."
No Magic, No Problem Page 4