Charmfall by Chloe Neill Page A

good enough.

9
    I t should be a simple operation: climb the steps, open the door, walk down a hallway, and stick the beetle on the wall outside the sanctuary’s main room. I had to press a button on its back to turn it on, and as soon as a light came on that confirmed it was connected to Detroit’s video screen, I was done and could run out again.
    It should be simple, but with nerves pumping, it sounded like a lot of steps to me.
    We were still stuffed into the opening of the tunnel, while Detroit walked through the steps one more time. But I hardly heard her. My eyes were on Jason, who stared back at me just as hard.
    “Could this be a trap?” I asked, my hands shaking with nerves and adrenaline. I squeezed my fingers around the bug to keep from dropping it.
    “It’s not a trap,” Detroit said. “It’s an Enclave Two–style mission. You can do this.”
    “You can do it,” Scout agreed, putting an arm around my shoulder. “Pop in, pop on, pop out. Get it done right and I’ll let you borrow my messenger bag, skull and all.”
    I laughed nervously. “I don’t even like your messenger bag. It creeps me out.”
    “Even better.” She slapped me on the butt like I was a quarterback who had to save the game at the last minute. Which I kind of was.
    “All right,” Detroit said. “The coast isn’t going to get any clearer. Go .”
    I took a step outside the tunnel, bathed in light and totally obvious, and it took me a moment to get my feet moving again.
    But then I hauled . I ran to the steps and took them two at a time, then put an ear to the metal door. It was thick, and I couldn’t hear anything through it, so I couldn’t be sure there wasn’t a Reaper on the other side. But no sound was better than the sound of chatty Reapers, so I turned the knob.
    Nothing happened. It was locked .
    “Crap,” I muttered, and jiggled the handle again.
    Nothing at all.
    I glanced back at the Adepts, who all shrugged, their faces blank. If the door was locked and we didn’t have a key, this mission was dead on arrival.
    One way or the other, I needed to make a decision.
    I looked back at the door. It was metal and rusty, and pretty old looking. Maybe it wasn’t locked. . . . Maybe it was just stuck.
    I stuffed the beetle into my pocket, put both hands on the doorknob, blew out a breath, and then turned it with every ounce of energy I had. It finally popped open.
    I peeked into the sanctuary—the hallway was empty. I stepped inside and edged toward the wall, then crept in the direction of the door to the main room.
    There were doors on both sides of the hall. On our last visit, those rooms had been empty except for some rusting equipment. Expecting to see the same thing, I peeked into one. But instead, the room held lab equipment, the kind of stuff we’d seen in the sanctuary Scout had imploded. And in the middle of the room were two ladies in white lab coats. They stood together, soda cans in hand, chatting happily—as if they weren’t part of a team that sucked the wispy souls out of teenagers to survive. Sometimes, I just didn’t understand adults.
    I’d been so busy being angry that they were just standing there chatting that I forgot where I was and what I was doing. Both of them suddenly turned toward the door. I immediately ducked down, heart pounding, and squeezed my eyes closed. Had they seen me? Were they calling security?
    But after a couple of seconds, no one burst into the hallway. It was still quiet and empty, and I took that as my cue to get on with my job and get back into the tunnels.
    I ran to the end of the hall and peeked into the final door to confirm it was the room where Scout had been held. It was. The banner still hung at one end of the room, and the table where Scout had been buckled sat empty in front of it, waiting for a soul to steal. The Reapers had added more decorations now, so the room looked more like a throne room. Scary thought.
    I pulled the beetle from my pocket and stuck it