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“It must be the storm,” Killian said. I thought it was him moving across in front of me, probably to reach Christina, but I couldn’t be sure. Even with the fire roaring, I could still only make out vague silhouettes. “Jonathan said that the storm could get bad enough that we might lose power for a bit. I bet that old man is out there right now, putting on a backup generator and rousing the kitchen staff to make us some hot cocoa.”
“You’re not wrong. Jonathan really is the backbone of this place. Unfortunately, the generator was on the fritz,” Donna moaned. “Jonathan was trying to fix it but I don’t know how it went. It might be a while before the lights come back on.”
“What do we do now?” Christina sniffed.
“Killian has a point about the hot chocolate. We need to stay comfortable and warm. I’ll get the fires lit in all the rooms and hand out candles. We can cook chocolate and soup over the open flames without power. And I’ll instruct the kitchen staff to put on some cold supper in the dining room,” Donna said. I could hear her voice growing fainter as she moved toward the door. “We have candles and oil lamps we can hand out, and hot water bottles if the heating doesn’t work.”
“That sounds amazing.” I stood up, directing Oscar in front of me. “We’ll go wait in the dining room for the other guests. If any of you would like to hold my hand, Oscar will take us to the door so we don’t bang into anything in the dark.”
“Excellent idea, Mina.”
Christina’s tiny hand slotted in mine, and, after a bit of shuffling and moaning, everyone else held hands in a chain behind us. Oscar let out a little yip of excitement. He enjoyed having so many people relying on him. He trotted off in the direction of the doorway, steering us around the tables, Chesterfield sofas, and the towering antique globe that dotted the floor.
I reached the door and pulled on the ornate handle. It didn’t work. I tried pushing instead.
“The door won’t move,” I said.
“Oh, of course. I locked it earlier so our meeting would remain private.” Donna’s clothing rustled as she fumbled in her pockets. “I have the key here somewhere. Ah, here it is. We had these new electronic locks installed, and you just have to point the key at the lock and it will…hmm, it’s not working.”
“The storm must have damaged the security system,” I said.
“Well, that’s not my problem.” I recognized Charlie’s disgruntled voice. “How are we going to get out of here?”
“I don’t know,” Donna said. “I thought they had a battery backup. There’s a manual switch but it’s on the other side.”
“This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m locked in a room in a sodding storm with this bunch of cretins,” Charlie snapped.
“There isn’t even a liquor cabinet in here,” whined Killian.
“Let’s use one of those big statues as a battering ram and break the door down ourselves,” Charlie suggested. “I did it all the time when I was a detective—”
“No!” Donna snapped. “Those statues are priceless, and the door is solid oak. No one is getting through that—”
Thunder cracked outside, so close that the whole building rattled. I bit down my fear.
Something thumped against the door. Christina shrieked.
“What was that?”
“Someone tripping over something?”
I placed my ear against the thick wood and listened. Another dull thud. Someone was knocking on the door.
“…okay in there?” I faintly heard a voice. I was pretty sure it was Jonathan, but it was barely audible against the din of the storm and the sniping writers.
“Jonathan, it’s Mina,” I yelled, hammering my own fist against the door. “We’re all fine, but there’s no power and we can’t open the door.”
“Mina?” Jonathan’s voice came back. “…be okay…get my tools…stand away from door…”
The knocking stopped. I gripped Oscar’s harness, and he took me deeper into the room. Thunder clapped again, and forked lightning lit up the windows. I wanted desperately to crawl under a table, pull my hoodie over my eyes, and hug Oscar close.
I wish the guys were here with me.
I thought of Quoth flying around in this weather earlier.I hope they’re okay.
A moment later, Jonathan shouted something through the door again, followed by the sounds of banging as he worked with his tools to get the lock open. Meanwhile, the writers took the opportunity to take up their bickering again.
“You shall be hearing from my lawyers!” Vivianne shouted at Donna. “This house is a death trap. As soon as we get out of here I’m leaving, and I’ll never come back! I’ve got what I came for, anyway. My revenge is complete. But you, young lady, you will be beggared by the time I’m done with you!”
