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Amber floorboards and dark, stained strips, and random lighter shards from wherever her dad and Peregrine could pull them from. Groaning and cracking, the wood twisted and twined together like a woven ball and then formed a shape. Aman.
A wooden man, seven feet tall, stood in the heart of the room, groaning like a creaking ship as he took a step.
Gabi’s breath went jagged, and even as she recognised the magic as elven, fear beat through her, sweat dripping into her eyes as she crawled backwards, away from that thing. His face was smooth wood, only hollows where eyes should be and a black, gaping hole for a mouth. It hung open in a silent scream.
Only the floorboards under her and her family had been left; everything else had been consumed by the magical being.
Crawling backwards, Gabi slammed into something solid, and a hand caught her arm and squeezed. Flesh and blood, not wooden. She snapped around, prepared for a fight, but her eyes landed on Peregrine’s, hazel brown—twin to her own. All the breath flooded out of her.
His teeth were gritted, his jaw locked with the effort of controlling the wooden man, but he still spared a second to reassure her.
“That’s ours,” he grated out.
“Walk,” Bo yelled, his arms lifted high to command the wooden man.
Gabi glanced between them, her fingers clenched around her baton, waiting for a cue to jump in and help. Or bolt to the door.
She flinched hard when the wooden man creaked and moaned, picking up his giant leg to take another step.
The coven are relying on you,she reminded herself, and locked her body, forcing back her jumpiness. She hastily focused herself the way she was trained. She couldn’t afford to flinch again.
“What areyou?” a silken voice purred.
Gabi snapped to attention, turning towards the source of that voice. A few rows away.
She ducked and crept towards the central aisle, leaving her dad and Peregrine to control the wooden man. With her free hand, she unhooked the handcuffs from her belt, her pulse tapping rapidly in her throat. Screw running for safety. If the wooden creature could distract Perchta, Gabi could get cuffs on her.
She glanced over her shoulder, locked eyes with her dad, and gestured with her finger to draw Perchta away, keep her occupied so Gabi could creep up from behind.
More low wooden groans filled the air as the huge man manoeuvred himself; Gabi peered around the steel cabinet to see him lead Perchta away. The witch was prowling, long white hair trailing her every step, her heels clicking when moments ago they were silent. No wand in her hand, just manicured red nails. Were they somehow longer than before?
Gabi gripped the baton and cuffs hard, sterling herself.No doubts, Gabi, no doubts.And while Perchta was focused on the puzzle of the magical creature, Gabi launched at her.
Her wrist snapped out, locking one cuff around Perchta, and Gabi exhaled a single shaky breath. Scratches ran up the witch’s forearms, mostly healed but still visible—Freya’s final attempts at survival. Gabi reached to bind the other wrist, but Perchta turned eerily quickly.
There was nothing human left about her, no humanity in her eyes. This was pure hunter, pure evil. Gabi’s body went cold at the sight of her grin, and she knew it was a lost battle. Too slow. She should have grabbed both wrists at once.
All Gabi could do as Perchta used the handcuff to wrench Gabi closer was raise her baton and bring it swinging into Perchta’s side. The witch howled, but the sound tapered into a laugh, and she inhaled a long drag of air, millimetres from Gabi’s face.
Gabi shuddered hard. A predator—Perchta was like no killer, no criminal, Gabi had ever faced. And Perchta wasscentingher.
Gabi reared back to bring the baton down again, but Perchta spun quicker than Gabi could stop her, and the handcuff was ripped from her grasp. She sailed through the air, slamming into a solid filing cabinet on its lethally sharp corner, and grunted as the breath was knocked out of her. Her ears rattled at the loud noise of impact, a headache flaring.
The pain hit a moment later, her ribs screaming, instantly bruised, and Gabi hissed at the pain. She blinked fast, urging her blurry vision to clear.
When it did, Gabi used the cabinet to pull herself back to her feet—and swore viciously.
The wooden man was turning in circles, whorls of the floorboards visible in the bulging muscles of his arms. He looked ready for a fight, as was Gabi, but Perchta was gone.
THIRTY-THREE
JOY
The lift wouldn’t open. The doors to the upper level were sealed shut and no breaking spell would open them.
Joy and her coven abandoned magic and switched to manual force. Gus dragged a metal chair from a disused office; Joy held her breath as he threw it at the glass portion of the exit door and … nothing.
No splinter, not even a tiny crack. They were thoroughly, helplessly locked in.
