Priory // h.s.

chapter twenty-two

When Harry shushes me for the fifth time, I basically lose it. "Sorry for breathing, Styles," I hiss under my breath. We've just reached the landing of the fourth floor after creeping up the staircases, and are standing side-by-side in the middle of a long hallway. Like usual, every single door is tightly closed and locked, with giant 'Do Not Enter' signs emblazoned on the fronts.

"You're forgiven, Faye," Harry returns in response to my irritated outburst.

"I'm not even being noisy," I whisper-shout.

"We make a horrible team. Always arguing," he says.

I frown, but then I detect the humor in his voice. "We're like that one pair of bumbling detectives in the agency; the ones who always run into things and mess things up," I agree, grinning a little bit. "But we always catch the bad guy in the end."

Even though there's still that underlying expression of doubt and worry in Harry's eyes, he gives a helpless little snort, shaking his head at me. "You know this is supposed to be a really serious mission, right?"

"Right." I put on my best somber face. Harry's grin deepens in amusement as he takes in my ridiculous expression. "Er, what were you planning to do here, exactly?" I say, still speaking in a hushed voice. "You can't seriously expect to be able to break the locks on any of these doors and get inside Lab 3."

"Good point," he admits sullenly, smile fading. "But we can still snoop around."

I let my eyes flit around the silent corridor. My gaze rests on the very end of it, where I can just make out the faintest sound of voices. "This way," I say, grabbing Harry's hand and tugging him along. He freezes for a second, fingers lax, before curling them around mine. "The voices are coming from Damon's office... What's going on in there?"

Crouched in the corner of the hallway, we can just make out the eerie outline of the entrance to Mr. Reeves' office. The door is slightly ajar, and trickles of light seep out. The voices are louder now.

Harry and I creep up to the door, and I press my eye to the crack.

From what I can see, it appears to be a conference of sorts. Mr. Reeves sits at the head of a small white table. Maura and Mr. Billings are seated on either side of him. Across from them are two men I don't recognize: they appear Asian, dressed in stiffly starched black suits, with their raven hair combed neatly over their foreheads.

"Those are the men I saw earlier, when I came up here during the fire drill. The ones who arrived in the plane we spotted." Harry's breath tickles the fine hairs on the back of my neck, making them stand up.

Inside the office, Mr. Reeves is speaking. "We've almost collected all the ingredients we need," he says, tapping his fingers on the top of the table. "With just a few additions to our array, we'll be able to produce the actual formula." His lips curve up confidently. "I promise you, gentlemen, within a few short weeks we will have our first round of Invections."

Invections. They're talking about Project Invect. A shiver courses down my spine.

One of the other men, the ones who presumably arrived on the plane we saw earlier today, speaks up. "I hope--for the sake of this entire foundation--that you're not lying to us, Mr. Reeves. Remember who your customers are, and try to keep your American ego in check."

Mr. Reeves' cheeks redden slightly. "I assure you, Mr. Lee, I am not lying to you."

Mr. Lee only fixes him with a stale look of vague distate. "I would hope so. Now, the men have finished unloading all the, ah, ingredients that we brought on the plane."

I feel Harry tense.

"It is up to you to gather the others you need, and quickly."

"Trust me, we'll have them all before you know it." Mr. Reeves gives a firm nod. "Project Invect is going to be a success."

At that moment, Harry shifts slightly, bumping into me. I, in turn, bump into the door.

Both of us freeze in place, desperately hoping we went undetected.

Mr. Lee and most of the others seem unaffected. But Mr. Reeves' head goes up, and he frowns carefully. Standing up, he says, "Did any of you see that?"

"See what, sir?" Maura inquires in a dry tone. "It's quite late at night, perhaps--"

"No, I definitely saw something." Mr. Reeves is making his way towards the door now.

I'm paralyzed with fear. Luckily, Harry isn't. He snatches my arm and drags me down the hallway, practically hurling us both down the stairs. Once we reach the third floor, we press ourselves against a wall. My heart is slamming in my chest, and my breath comes in ragged gasps.

We wait. Nothing but silence, and the vague sounds of partying and music drifting out of the Mens' dorms. Cade's party is clearly raging on.

Damon hasn't followed us. I exhale a long sigh of relief, sliding down along the wall. My headache is slowly returning full-force, and I feel utterly drained.

Harry sits on the floor beside me. "Aren't we going to head back to the dorm rooms?"

"I'm too tired to get up," I grumble softly.

He bites his lip. "I shouldn't have let you come."

"No, no, I'm fine," I insist. "I just..."

"Here." He stands up and pulls me to my feet. "I'll walk you to your room."

"I don't need that," I protest dizzily, then contradict myself by walking in the opposite direction of my dorm.

Harry's laugh is a pleasantly familiar sound as it tickles my ears. I allow myself the careless luxury of leaning against his shoulder as he helps me along, mostly because I'm too misty-brained and sleepy to pull away from him. Besides, he's really warm, and it feels nice to have his arm around me in a gesture of support.

We reach room 142, and Harry leans down to whisper in my ear, "Do you mind if I come over tomorrow morning? Y'know, to like... talk about what we found out?"

"Yep, that sounds nice." I yawn. "I'm sorry I'm so useless tonight, I'm just really tired and--"

"Amber, it's fine. I was the dipshit who nearly got us caught anyway." Harry flashes me a quick smile. "Good night."

"G'night," I mumble, watching as he ambles away.

Letting myself into my dorm room, I find it as empty as it was when I left it. Jillian and Kenneth are probably still off partying. Good for them.

I've had enough for one day, and for one night. I fall into bed; lights still on, clothes unchanged, and dreams clouded with visions of Damon's voice and musings about Project Invect and men in black suits and... Harry's soft laughter. 

i update too much.