Page 63 of The Mist of Stars
“How long do you think it’ll take for security to notice it’s down?” Laylen asks as he pulls back the hood of his jacket.
“Probably a while since they haven’t noticed that.” I point at Professor G.’s lifeless body, still hunched over his desk. It’s starting to smell like rotten flesh.
I tug the collar of my shirt over my nose to avoid breathing in the stench.
“Yeah, good point.” Laylen pulls a face at the body. His flashlight has remained on, and he begins shining it around the room. “What are we even looking for?”
I hop off the chair. “I’m not sure. Something that’ll help us figure out why anyone would want Professor G. dead. If we can figure out the why, then maybe we can figure out the who.”
“You mean, who possessed Gemma’s dad?” he asks as he wanders over to a bookshelf.
“That’s the plan.” I start roaming around the narrow space, digging my gloves out of my pocket. “Don’t forget to put your gloves on. They could bring a witch in to search for fingerprints.”
He does as I instruct, and we spend the next handful of minutes ransacking the office, looking through desk drawers, tossing books off of shelves, rummaging through file cabinets. By the time we’re done, the place is a mess—papers all over the floor, along with books, pencils, files, etc. And we have absolutely nothing.
“There has to be something in here.” I scratch my head. “How can there not be a single clue as to why someone would murder this guy?”
Laylen has a bottle of whiskey in his hand that he stole from the professor’s desk. “Evidence may have been here at one point, but it doesn’t seem like it is anymore.” He untwists the cap and takes a swig.
“Bro, you’re drinking a dead guy’s whiskey,” I say, a little grossed out.
He shrugs then wipes his lips with the sleeve of his hoodie. “He’s not going to drink it.” He offers me the bottle.
While I’m grossed out, I’m also anxious as fuck, so I take a drink, set the bottle down, sink down onto the edge of desk, cross my arms, and think. “There has to be something in here.” I scan the room again, looking for anything. My gaze endsup landing on the single book that remains on the bookshelf. “Why’d you leave one book on the shelf?”
Laylen takes another drink of the whiskey. “It was stuck. I yanked on it a ton of times, but it wouldn’t budge.”
I stand up, hurry to the shelf, and yank on it. When it doesn’t move, I slip my fingers behind it and feel around until—click. “Jackpot.” The book angles forward at the same time the bookshelf shifts, unlocking a secret passage hidden behind it.
“Dude, I pulled on that thing so hard. How the heck did you get it to move?” Laylen asks as he steps up beside me.
I shift the shelf and glide it to the side, opening the entrance to the secret passage all the way. “There was a little latch behind it.” The passageway is a narrow, dark tunnel that leads to who knows where? “Shine the light down in there.” With my eyes trained on the passageway, I crouch down to withdraw my dagger from my ankle holster.
Laylen shines the light down the tunnel, revealing cement walls and a dirt floor that angles downward. “It looks like it goes beneath the school.”
I nod in agreement then slide my foot forward.
But Laylen places a hand on my shoulder. “What if whatever killed Professor G. is down there?”
“There’s no way. Not when the only way in here is from the side we’re going in. And it was locked.” I take another step forward.
With a begrudging exhale, he follows behind me.
The deeper we get, the chillier the air becomes. Water starts dripping through the cracks in the walls and ceiling.
“I feel like we’ve entered the underworld,” Laylen grumbles.
“It really does,” I agree as I walk with my knife poised in front of me. “It feels like it’s endless.”
Just as I say it, I feel a zap through my body. It’s not like the electric current I experience whenever I’m close to Gemma. It’s sharper but, at the same time, has a similar-like quality to it.
“There’s something down here.” I quicken my strides.
“Wait up.” He jogs after me. “What the heck is the rush?”
My mind goes back to when Gemma told us about the machine that’s in my father’s basement. She mentioned that she was drawn to it before she could even see it. The connection flowing through my body right now feels just like how she described it, almost like it’s whispering for me to get to it.
“It’s …” My words fade as I reach the end of the tunnel. What’s in front of me is both awe-striking and terrifying.