I should have felt confident with it, but it made me shiver and threw me off so much that my legs jittered as I peeked around the corner and rushed down the hallway towards the librarians’ office.
The library was empty and the lack of sound, soft whispers or laughter, filtering through the stacks down to the commons made it feel like a dead place. I crept around the edges, sticking close to the displays so I could hide if anyone entered. They’d smell me, I stank of fear, sweat, and blood, but my brain didn’t care. If I needed to hide, I’d hide… and pray.
My pulse thundered in my ears as I assessed the distance between where I stood, cowering behind a display, and the door to the office I was to infiltrate. The door was open, thank the Old Ones, because there’d been no reason to lock it. The desk Xavier had described, however, was most certainly locked and there were no librarians around with keys to open it.
Sucking in a deep breath, I dashed across the open commons, knowing indecision would keep me frozen in place and, if I did that, Xavier would die.
I ducked into the office without being shot and breathed a sigh of relief. Not wanting to take chances, though, I closed the door and lowered the blinds that provided privacy if necessary, to the staff. The thin plastic blinds made me feel safer.
The desk was at the back of the office, an old-fashioned wooden one made to last for centuries. I tried the first drawer, hoping I’d get lucky, and cursed like a sailor when it didn’t budge. The two others below it held fast, as well.
“Damnit,” I muttered, looking around the room for something to use to pry the drawer open. The keys were inside and the only way I was going to get them out was to destroy this antique. With a dismissive noise, I grabbed a letter opener made of what felt like solid steel and shoved it between the wood. Everything wolves owned were antiques. We lived to be old as fuck, if we weren’t killed first.
The drawer stuck but the letter opener didn’t break. I took that as a good sign. “I need something else,” I muttered to myself as I scanned the room. “Where’s a fucking crowbar when you need one?”
I went from desk to desk and gathered up every letter opener I could find, which amounted to four. Each were strong and slim, perfect for what I needed. I shoved them in side by side and put all my weight behind my thrust.
The drawer popped open with a groan of splintering wood. I shot my fist into the air like Judd Nelson and released a silent victory cry.
The keys sat in a little plastic container that separated them from other office paraphernalia. I bypassed the tape and a stapler and grabbed them, then raced to the door and peeked out.
The library was still quiet and empty, I couldn’t believe my luck. Even as the thought entered my head, a manic giggle escaped my throat. Lucky? Who the fuck was lucky during a siege? People were dead. Xavier was dying. I had to risk my life to get the antidote or face myself every day for the rest of my life and know I’d let a hero die if I hid until this was over.
No, I shook my head. I wasn’t an asshole. He’d saved my life and I would save his.
I pulled open the door and was about to step out when I noticed an economy sized bottle of hand sanitizer sitting on a desk. I grabbed it and, wrinkling my nose, pumped a huge glob into my palm and began systematically rubbing onto my skin, clothes, and hair. I figured it was better than nothing and would, at least, confuse my scent somewhat. I was leaving a second time when I noticed a big spray bottle of bleach tucked almost behind a filing cabinet.
“Bingo,” I said with a grin, grabbing it up.
The coast was clear when I peaked out again, so I ran outside and began spraying the bleach as quickly as I could, trying to wipe the scent of blood from the air. They cloying scent of ammonia burned my nose.
Xavier was leaning against the wall, next to the ruined drywall when I got back to the antiques room. I rushed to his side and shook my head. “Stupid man. Why didn’t you wait?”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “You could have been captured out there. I figured if it was my time to go, I’d rather go sitting up.”
“Fair enough,” I whispered, reaching for his shirt. The fabric was soaked through, now, so I quickly tore the other sleeve from my shirt and replaced it. “You need to keep pressure on this.” I clucked my tongue just like I’d heard my mother do a million times and held the keys up. “I got them. You’ll be safe soon.”
He nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. I could practically see the internal conflict happening through his eyelids as he steeled himself for what was to come. When he opened his eyes again, they were determined, and terrified.
“I got you,” I said quietly, wishing I were stronger, wishing I had someone else here to help me support him. He’d be forced to carry a lot of his own weight, now, and I knew that would be agony.
His face blanched with the first move. I hooked my hands under his armpits and braced myself, then pulled him up with every ounce of strength I had. The sound that escaped his gritted teeth was heartbreaking but we couldn’t stop. I bent my knees and pushed up until he was on his feet, standing with blood leaking from his wound. The folded square of fabric lay on the floor.
I scooped it up and pressed it to his side, wishing it was sterile. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue, but now, with the silver poisoning, his body could react to the slightest thing.
“Where are we going?” I shuffled him forward a few steps, aching with each moan of pain that slipped free. He was trying to stay quiet; I could see that in the set of his shoulders, but it was impossible.
“At the back of the art gallery there’s a door,” his voice was weak.
I nodded. “I know the one. Come on. Hold onto me.”
We moved as quickly as he could manage, which put us at risk with every second that passed. Time was a strange thing; I wasn’t sure how much of it had passed since I’d looked out the solarium window and watched that first execution. All I knew was that our luck would have to run out soon.
By the time we got to the door, Xavier’s breathing was labored and his body sagged against me. I was basically carrying him while keeping pressure on his wound so he didn’t bleed out.
I pushed him up against the wall next to the door and kept a hand on his chest, knowing that if he slid to the floor, I’d have to drag him into the vault. My hands shook as I fished the keys from my pocket and tried first one, then the other in the lock.
The second one slid in and clicked as it turned.
Hot tears spilled from my cheeks. This room was secure. It could lock from the inside and wasn’t accessible from the outside unless you had the keys, these keys, I looked down at my hand. I could stay here and be safe. I was safe.
I swallowed my traitorous thoughts and pushed the door open.
Inside, a long table sat surrounded by chairs. I shuffled Xavier to the table and helped him sit on the edge, then lie back with a cry that died then and there. I glanced around and saw the padding on the walls and the communication device and locking system on the wall next to the door. This vault was my own personal panic room.
“I have to go,” I rushed the words out, knowing that if I took the time to think it through, if I gave myself even a moment to feel the safety of this place, I would never leave. “Hold on, Xavier. You need to live.” I leaned over him and smiled. “You’ve been such a prick; you’re going to need to live if you’re going to make it up to me.”
He let out a strangled laugh and closed his eyes. “Deal,” he murmured and lifted a hand to my arm. “Be safe.”
I nodded, unable to speak anymore through the thickness in my throat, and turned for the door, grabbing the bleach as I went. I closed the door with a sharp snick behind me, then chose a large planter to bury the keys in. I’d need a way to get back in if Xavier passed out from blood loss.