The Lost Heir (Book I)- The Violet City

Ante Up

Isabella left the party without wanting to think any more about that ridiculous Seth or the ridiculous people still likely fawning over each other on the rooftop level with Johnna. So with Micah, she slipped through the hotel, down into the theater and past the wall like she had earlier that day. Enveloped in darkness, Micah clutched her hand.

"This is fun,” said Micah, though the thinness of his voice and the sting from his hand said he thought otherwise.

"Just wait, okay?" She inched forward and the lights in the faux candleholders clicked on. "See!" She took another step and then looked back at Micah. "You can let go now."

"Sorry," he mumbled.

They tip-toed forward. "He went into a door really far down the hall on the right." As she walked, the sense of calm she’d felt before returned. Her skittish steps turned to full strides. "Come on, Micah!" He fumbled along behind her. Her feet flew down the hall. 

"Why are you running?" Micah’s voice echoed far behind her, but she couldn’t stop. That is until she reached a rectangular indentation in the wall. A door. But no handle. Micah caught up to her. "Look." She placed her hand on the wall and pushed. Nothing happened. "I’m sure this is it." She pushed again.

"Did you see that?"

"What are you talking about?" She rammed the door with her shoulder. "OW!"

"That. It looks familiar." Micah slid beside Isabella. She stepped away sharply.

"Personal space."

Micah dipped his finger into some grooves on the wall. Isabella squinted, trying to make out what he was seeing. It looked so familiar.  

"The symbol!"

BOOM! Isabella and Micah flummoxed back from the wall. Micah crumbled to the ground and Isabella found herself tumbling down a set of steps. She landed in a collection of musty cardboard boxes. "Damn it! My shoulder!” She tried standing but stumbled back into some shelving. A cold metal something fell on top of her head and proceeded to topple onto the floor. “D.M.L.” She crouched down and squinted. A key. She scooped it up and shoveled it into her pocket.

"D.M.L?” she heard Micah call from the top of the steps.  "What’s that mean?"

"Damn. My. Life. Lana says it a lot," she gritted out each word, rubbing her shoulder. She stood up. “Thunder cookies.” To her left, she spied another door - tall and arched without adornment. An old rusty knob begged to be turned. "Get down here, Micah!"

Footsteps lumbered down the staircase. "Sorry," he said, panting. “Thunder cookies?” He clutched his chest, still out of breath.

"There are like ten stairs."

"Sorry, I’m a dork. I’ll go get Seth since you seem to prefer jocks.”

"Whatever. Look." She leaned forward and he followed her eyes with his.

"Uhh, maybe we should go back upstairs. Aren't you hurt?"

Isabella ignored him and turned the knob. Of course, it didn’t open. Duh. The key, stupid. She extracted it from her pocket and maneuvered it into the grooves of the keyhole. Left. Nope.   

"Where’d you get that?"

Right.  Click.  "Yes!"  They were met with another door. Isabella place her hand on it. It opened instantly at her touch to her surprise. It must have had a heat sensor or something. But it was so old.

"This place is giving me the creeps," said Micah. "Seriously."

This time Isabella grabbed Micah’s hand. Yank. They stepped in side-by-side. A flood of lights shone through the room and spilled out of the open door.