Page 115 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

No. Every muscle in my body went rigid. Emma had basically handed Kit to these unknown enemies on a plate.

At this, Rory abruptly shot to his feet, all eyes locking onto him. Without a word, he walked towards the staircase, his movements mechanical and hollow. His footsteps pounded as he climbed each step.

I didn’t blame him for leaving. I was finding it increasingly hard to listen to all of this without screaming.

Emma buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. “Oh God. Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

Nervous glances ricocheted around the basement. Seb’s lips pressed together so tightly they disappeared. Priya reached for Emma’s shoulder, but her hand hovered uncertainly in the air.

Flynn mumbled, “I’ll go see if he’s okay,” and followed Rory out of the basement.

The quiet that followed was smothering. I gripped Kit’s mug tighter, every breath sandpaper in my lungs.

“Will…” Emma’s voice cracked. She lifted her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Will all of that information help you find Kit, at least? I can write down everything I can remember about the two agents. Every single question they asked. Every piece of information they wanted. Everything I gave them.”

“When did you last have contact with them?” asked Seb.

Emma wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Um… like a week ago, maybe? After that first time, I never saw them again, they rang me on a private number.”

Seb’s expression grew thoughtful. “If they ring again, you could demand to meet with them. Then I could appear as a surprise.” He paused, running his tongue over his teeth. “But likely, they won’t fall for that, now they have Kit.”

The words now they have Kit sent my heart into freefall. The certainty in Seb’s voice made it real in a way I’d been desperately trying to avoid.

Seb’s gaze pierced Emma. “I’ll await the document with everything you can give us. But you need to go now.”

Emma nodded frantically. “Yes, of course. I’m… I’m so, so sorry. Truly. I don’t know what else to say, apart from I’ll do anything I can to fix this.”

There wasn’t anything else to say. Sorry wouldn’t bring Kit back. Sorry wouldn’t undo the listening device or erase the running routes or fix any of this mess.

Priya stood, Emma copying her movements like a mirror. They headed towards the staircase, Priya’s hand hovering protectively on Emma’s elbow.

After their footsteps faded, Seb turned to me.

“It’s awful that Emma told them Kit’s running routes, but I don’t think that actually got him abducted,” I said.

“Indeed,” said Seb. “We know he entered Clapham North station to meet that vampire, which Kit told Priya when he said goodbye to her that evening. A conversation very likely caught by the listening device.”

I nod, the motion feeling disconnected from my body. An image of Kit’s gentle smile as he said goodnight to Priya burst into my mind.

“So the question is,” Seb continued, stroking his chin. “Is this the work of Marcus’s vampires, or our secret listeners?”

Past

November 2026

26

Felix

Ihovered down the street from Kit’s flat, checking my phone for the fifth time in two minutes. Seven-oh-five. I was already five minutes late, but my feet refused to move forward.

This is ridiculous, I told myself. You’ve been to Kit’s flat like six times now.

But tonight was going to be different. Tonight, we were going to… well. Things were going to happen. We’d already worked our way through most of my list. Now it was time for the rest of it. And then some.

I tugged at the black fabric of my hoodie, wondering for the hundredth time if I was dressed appropriately. I’d tried on two different smart button-down shirts earlier, but felt stupid in both of them, so went with one of my trusted favourites instead. The red Pac-Man ghost staring out at me from the soft cotton. Hopefully, Kit would think it was cute? Or at least, retro.

Seven minutes late now. I forced myself to continue down the road, my trainers squeaking against the wet pavement. Did I need an excuse for being seven minutes late? Bus late? Somehow got lost? Spontaneous existential crisis about whether I was ready for this?