Page 187 of Stormbreaker

Edward shoves the gates open as I stand paralyzed with indecision.

“Come on!” he says. “We can’t wait for him.”

A planter sits next to the gates, and I shove the key into the soil, ensuring it’s covered with a thin layer of dirt.

“What kind of plant is this?” I ask.

“What?” Edward asks, practically bouncing on his feet.

“What is this?” I ask again.

“Fuck, I don’t know! A ficus?”

“Okay,” I say and text the word “ficus” to Rook, hoping he understands my cryptic clue.

“Poet,” Edward hisses, and I follow him inside. We enter a small area with a bank of elevators blessedly free of Guards or personnel.

At least this part of my plan worked.

“Let’s go,” Edward says, punching the button. An elevator to the far left immediately slides open with a soft ding that sounds more like a cannon shot.

Inside, he presses another button for the thirty-second floor to access Mr. Robins’s office. While we make the ascent, I explain everything to Edward about what I’m looking for. To his credit, he doesn’t freak out. Just takes it all in stride.

After he taps our second stolen key card on the panel, we enter a spacious room with hardwood floors overlaid with rugs, two love seats, and a sofa arranged in the center.

Everything glows with red shadows reflected through massive floor-to-ceiling windows. I watch the tumbling storm clouds bleeding across the sky as fiery scarlet orbs plunge toward the earth. I’ve never witnessed a Blood Storm up close, and there’s something mesmerizing about its casual, violent destruction.

Edward wastes no time, crossing the room and passing through a set of double doors that reveals a large U-shaped desk topped with a bank of computers. Behind that, a wall of screens reveals various parts of the building.

Edward studies the screens for a moment, and I check my phone, praying Rook has replied. I send him another message with the word “office.”

Edward has pulled up to the desk and settled into Mr. Robins’s big leather chair, already typing a million miles a minute on one of the numerous backlit keyboards. The room is completely silent but for the distant, muffled wails of the Blood Storm sirens and the rapid click of his fingers.

I can’t sit still, so I pace back and forth, checking my phone every few seconds for a reply from Rook.

“Can you stop?” Edward asks. “You’re making me anxious.”

“Sorry,” I mumble and return to the sitting area, giving him space to work.

Another wall of monitors covers one side of the room, and I walk over to ensure we’ve gone undetected. A screen reveals the immediate hallway outside, perfect for keeping an eye out for any unwanted visitors.

I study each monitor, noting a few Guards stationed at various points, but almost everyone has left to deal with the storm.

A figure catches my attention, moving down a hallway, opening and closing doors. I can’t be sure at first, and my eyes must be deceiving me, because I’d swear it was Rook. I move in closer, but there’s no mistaking it now. I’d recognize that easy gait and that flop of hair anywhere.

What is he doing? The number in the corner of the screen tells me he isn’t anywhere near the thirty-second floor. In fact, he’s somewhere lower, in something called Sub Basement B.

He’s holding something in his hand that looks like a key card, but not the same bright red one I left for him inside the flowerpot. I search the bank of screens and find the door where Edward and I entered, noting the pile of soil now lying at the foot of the planter.

Quickly, I search for Rook, a pit of dread solidifying in my stomach.

I tap out another message.

I text the word “in,” suggesting Edward has accessed the computers.

For a second, I think it’s nothing—just a hitch in his stride, the way people pause when they remember something small and unimportant.

Then he pulls his phone from his pocket.