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We search through each bedroom, underneath the beds and inside the closets, behind the curtains and beneath every table. The bathrooms, bedrooms, and offices are clear on this floor. Every wing, every room, completely empty. Nothing has been moved or even touched by her.
We end up in the hall, each of us fucking livid that she seems to have beaten us at our own game.
“Could she have gotten out somehow?” Atticus growls.
I shake my head. “No. She couldn’t even touch a window without the alarm going off. There’s no way she isn’t in here.”
“Then where is she?” Levi snaps.
My hand goes up to the back of my neck, and I squeeze the muscle in frustration as I think.
And fucking think.
“Fucking hell,” I groan, tipping my head back with a sigh. I blink, staring at the ceiling, at the door to the attic. The string that usually hangs in the air is tucked underneath the latch.
I point up, a smirk coming to my face.
They tilt their heads up, each of them smiling when they realize what I’ve discovered.
Little witch made her way into the attic.
I reach up, my finger looping around the string. I pull it, untucking it from the ceiling and releasing the latch. A set of stairs unfold, and my hands grip the railing as I make my way up the ladder. It creaks under my weight, the light-colored wood barely used over the years.
The moment I step into the attic, my nose wrinkles at the scent of old furniture and years of dust. It’s not too cluttered up here, basically a massive bonus room, though it’s completely unfinished. Furniture from generations ago sits in the corners with white sheets draped over them. An old chest sits against the wall, which I know holds pictures from the time I was a baby to decades earlier. Some of my mother’s old things sit in the corner, though I don’t think my father even knows it’s still up here.
I hear the latch close, and glance over my shoulder to see Atticus standing to his full height, having just locked us all in.
We stalk around the attic, the only sounds are our feet against the solid wood. It’s dark up here, with only one window in the corner of the ceiling that shows off the evening sky.
I pull the sheets off the furniture, revealing nothing. Then a shadow flickers in the corner of the room, behind an old armoire that I know holds a bunch of useless junk inside. The door to the armoire rattles slightly, and I smirk, pulling my phone out of my pocket, seeing there’s only thirty seconds left.
“Well, little witch might have won, after all,” I murmur, taking a step toward the armoire. The door rattles again, and I let out a sigh, shaking my head. I almost thought she was going to get away with it.
Almost.
I step to the side, glancing behind the armoire, and crouched against the wall is my little witch, looking nervous, terrified really, as her big, round eyes look up at me.
“Almost, baby.”
She shakes her head, her hand going to the wall and the back of the armoire as she pushes herself to a stand. “You’re lying. Time is up.”
I turn the phone screen in her direction, showing her one minute before nine. “So close, little witch. But not close enough.”
She stands there, fists clenched at her sides as she breathes heavily.
Then she bolts.
I leap toward her at the same moment Atticus and Levi do. We catch her in the middle, caging her in.
“Don’t be scared, little witch,” Levi murmurs.
Her eyes drift to his, and Atticus steps toward her, leaning over her shoulder. “You aren’t as fearless as you think you are.”
She stands straighter, giving him a fierce glare. Her bared stomach heaves with nerves, even if she pretends she has none.
I lift my hand, grabbing her chin with my finger, pulling her eyes to mine.
“I’m not playing your games, Felix,” she seethes.
