Under the Altswood Sky (The Altswood Saga #2)

Chapter 16 - Phantom

Chapter 16 - Phantom

"Wow, what a safe passcode," I muttered as the door clicked after him.

I opened Gabriel's contacts, and despite Annabelle's name being alphabetised at the top, I had to scroll a few pages until she appeared. The line started ringing, and as I waited, I wandered over to the window, pulling up a small corner of the curtain to watch Gabriel in the parking lot below. Even though he couldn't see me, I waved as he got into his car and carefully pulled onto the road.

Once he had disappeared, I shut the curtains tightly again, making sure there weren't any gaps.

That was when all the lights went out.

I yelped in surprise, the phone dropping from my hands.

Okay, stay calm. It was only some extreme darkness.

I stood still for a few anxious moments, waiting. Waiting for sound, for suspicious movement, even for the sound of someone else's breathing.

But there was nothing.

I realised then that the sensor had felt the key card leave, and now it thought the room was empty.

I laughed to myself, more out of shaky relief that it had been a false alarm than anything else. I picked up the still-ringing phone and turned on the flashlight, searching for the rectangle-shaped greeting card I had seen earlier on the desk. With the card in hand, I hunted down the manual key slot by the light switches, and as soon as I slid the cardboard paper in, the lights came back on.

That was an ordeal.

"Gabriel?" Annabelle answered finally. Her voice was hushed low, keeping quiet amidst all the loud background noise. "Hello?"

I brought the phone to my ear.

"Did you find Luca?"

"Yeah, he found me."

"Luca," Annabelle breathed, "thank god. Where are you guys?"

"Somewhere safe," I answered. I kept it vague just in case the police were tapping phone lines now. Or worse, if the killer thought to do it. I mean, if they had the ability to help Rebekah collate photos of our every move during the last leg of the Hunt, then what was a phone line?

"You better stay there," Annabelle muttered. "I was just grilled by the police. Judging by their rapid-fire questions, I don't think they have a clue to where you are."

I squeezed my eyes shut, collapsing on the desk chair. "What did you tell them?"

"The truth," Annabelle said. "That I didn't know either, and that you were present while the bullets were flying."

But it would appear that wasn't enough. Even if I wasn't directly to blame for the bullets, I knew the truth. I had gone digging around Joshua's house, trying to find a clue, and I had stirred the pot. I had brought the chaos home.

"How's Jules?" I whispered, feeling a pang of guilt.

"Still in surgery," Annabelle said. "I'll go check on him once they're done patching me up, but they've said he'll be completely fine, even if it takes him a while to wake up from the sedatives."

Alarm rocketed through my body, shocking my spine upright. "Patching you up? Annabelle, were you hit?"

"Just a graze," she assured quickly. "I hardly felt it while it was happening."

I splayed a hand over my face, trying to swallow my horror.

"This is so messed up," I whispered. "But you know what's worse?"