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My old room in Black Pine is empty.

I let out a huge sigh of relief when I appear in the portal and see that no one else is sleeping in my bed. It was mine for two full years, ever since I aged out of the last floor and got moved to the nineteen through twenty-one group, and while I’m not so naive to believe that they’ve kept it for me, waiting for me to return, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I shade-walked here only to see someone else lying there.

I can sense something, though. Something… off. A prickle along the back of my neck, the tips of my freaky fae ears almost twitching.

Reaching up, I pat my fingers over my braids, making sure that the wind that accompanies my shadow travel didn’t uncover my pointed ears. If everything goes to plan, no one will even see me, but knowing they're hidden makes me feel a little better.

Only a little. My stomach is tight, nerves and anxiety and the familiar motion sickness making me queasy as I step away from the corner, fully materializing in the room.

It’s magic. That’s the only way I can explain it. Maybe because I was never really gone from the asylum long enough to notice it—or because I was stubbornly ignoring any sign that the fae were real—but I can feel the magic reaching out toward me as I look around the room.

Someone touched by the fae has been in here.

It only takes me a second to realize that that person is me.

At least part of this strange magic and apprehensive feeling is because of me. The echoes of the touch I offered Rys while I was sedated, plus the grab Nine stole the last time I was standing in this room… I can feel it.

That’s not all, either. With a jolt, I think of that first night outside of Black Pine, when Nine was warning me against returning. He said that the asylum was full of charmed and touched humans working with the fae.

Like Jason, who ended up as a statue in the Fae Queen’s garden when she was done with him.

And, I remember with a sinking heart, Carolina.

Surrounded by them, I never would’ve known that they were touched by the fae. It was only if a Light Fae or one of the Dark tried to—what did he call it?—enter my domain that I would be able to sense it.

Except now, after being away so long, I guess I’m sensitive enough to pick up on any trace of Faerie magic. It’s tough to explain. My skin feels itchy, like something is rubbing it the wrong way. I rub my forearm, the friction from my glove grounding me while it helps me get past the worst of it. It’s still there, just not so bad once I get used to it.

That’s one good thing. It could definitely come in handy if our plan doesn’t go the way I want it to.

Tiptoeing toward the door, I dare a quick peek out in the hall. We chose Easter on purpose because it would be emptier than it usually is on the weekends. I figure, with the holiday and the fact that it’s a Sunday, there’s a good chance that Dr. Gillespie won’t be around.

I’m okay with that. I like to think of this excursion as more of a recon mission. If I’m lucky, he’ll have left the necklace with the Brinkburn on it in his drawer or something. If not there, then maybe I can find a clue to help me learn more about the doctor.

Like where to find him when he’s not at Black Pine, for a start.

All I have right now is a name—Aidan Gillespie—and his place of employment. That’s it. Not much to go on, and I didn’t want to waste the little bit of data that comes with my pre-paid phone so my searches aren’t that great, but even with a quick look, my old psychologist doesn’t have any kind of presence online.

A phone number might have come in handy. An address, even better. Since I couldn’t find either of those, I had no choice but to return to the asylum and hope for the best.

Fingers crossed.

I wait until the coast is clear, take a deep breath and slip out of my old room. Once out in the hall, I shield myself as best as I can before heading off toward Dr. Gillespie’s office.

I cling to the shadows, my back against the wall, my fingers splayed at my side so that I can push off at any given second. No one sees me. As if they can tell that I’m hiding here, every nurse, orderly, and tech avoids this corner as they bustle by.

My heart thumps a little louder when Amy walks by, tucking a loose strand of dark hair out of her face and back into her neat ponytail. She’s got her nose buried in a patient’s chart, humming a cheery little tune as she goes, oblivious to the magic all around her.

She was good. Kind. Nice. I didn’t appreciate her while I was committed to the asylum, and I wish I could tell her now that she was one bright spot in my otherwise dark days. I can’t, though. I’m not an idiot. Appearing suddenly to say hi to my former tech will land me in straps faster than I can blink—and that’s even if I don’t scare the crap out of her by popping out of seemingly nowhere.

Seeing Amy tells me one thing, at least. It’s still daytime. Unless her shift has changed in the time since I’ve been gone, she works during the morning until early evening. Good. I’m still getting the hang of shadow travel and I wasn’t sure if I came straight to Black Pine from Newport or if I made a few unwanted stops along the way.

The only downside to arriving so early? Despite the holiday, the asylum is definitely hopping with activity. I stay in my hiding spot, watching as the staff go about their business. I’m purposely staking out Dr. Gillespie’s office. It’s the only choice I have. I don’t know where else to find him and, since the last time I saw the crystal, he was wearing it around his throat, that’s where I’m going to start my search for the Brinkburn thing.

It’s my only hope.

For hours, he holds sessions with a variety of patients. I recognize a few—Whitney was the patient holed up in there with Dr. Gillespie when I first took up my position, and Tai comes slinking in sometime after lunch—and wait outside for the office to be empty.

It seems like it takes forever before he gives himself a break. After his latest patient leaves, the doctor follows behind him a few minutes later. I’m not sure if he’s done for the day or if he’s running to the staff cafeteria or something like that. Doesn’t matter. As soon as he disappears into the stairwell that would take him to another floor, I make my move.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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