The hall dead-ended to her left, but she went that way first to hurriedly check the other rooms. Having both hands full wasn’t going to work, so she shoved the nuts and springs in her left hand into her pocket again and tried the door handles. All were locked except the one opening into a basic, all-tan bathroom. The gleaming fixtures and new-paint smell made her think this apartment hadn’t been occupied in a while. The vanity was bare, the glass door to the step-in shower very clean.
Riley backed up and listened at the locked doors, trying to feel the interiors of the rooms. She heard no sounds and felt no prickles. She couldn’t assume the rooms were empty, though. She tapped the first doorknob. When it didn’t shock her, she twisted it hard enough to break the lock and pushed open the door. The light from the hall showed it to be as empty as everything else. Ditto the other room.
The lack of…anything gave her a chill. Were they planning to abduct other goddesses and trap them here? These doors had been easy to break into, but maybe the reinforced door of the other room was stage one and they hadn’t gotten this far yet.
The two guys staggered into the hallway from the room Quinn was in, blocking Riley’s access to the open end. One of them pointed at Riley. “Get her!”
She couldn’t get enough energy from the metal she held to knock them back from here, so she charged down the hall, braced to plow through them. She pushed the energy out in front of her, hoping to knock them out of her way.
Except they’d gotten smart, or stopped underestimating her, or decided they weren’t scared of her after all. Maybe getting hit in the head had pissed them off, or fear of what Anson would do to them if she got away galvanized them. Also, she apparently sucked at creating a shield. They didn’t budge when the energy she thought she pushed ahead of her hit them. Then, despite her speed and strength, they stood firm and grabbed her, working together to hold on when she immediately kicked and flailed.
“No! Let me go!” She wrenched one arm free, but the metal in her fist wasn’t enough. She couldn’t draw enough power to get away, not with four arms and hands alternately wrapping around her and grabbing her wrists and legs.
“Hold her, goddammit!” one of them growled.
The other cursed and dodged her skull when she tried a reverse head-butt. Her hand stung, the metal heating. She had to change strategies.
She went limp so abruptly it took them by surprise, and her body slid through their hands. Once on the floor, she scrambled away, digging into her pocket for the other metal pieces. This time, she made sure the sharp ends of the springs poked between her fingers, and when they chased after her down the hall toward the main area of the apartment, she spun and scratched one in the face.
“Shit!” He skidded to a halt, his hands pressed to the bloody marks. “Get her!”
The other guy got a determined look on his face and charged. Riley reached the kitchen and dodged around the center island, trying to keep an eye on him and find alternate metal at the same time. The appliances were stainless steel, but it would be too easy to drag her away from them. Unless…
No, crazy idea. Too heavy, too slow if it didn’t work. She stared around, her vision blurring as she tried to take in her surroundings all at once. She wasn’t calm and steady anymore. Her lungs hurt from panting, and her heart pounded, pulse throbbing in her neck and arms. Her palms were burned and scratched. But she had to neutralize these two long enough to get Quinn out. Maybe then they could hide somewhere until Nick and Sam got here.
The kitchen shared an open floor plan with the dining room, separated from the living room by a half wall on the other side. More neutral colors. Brown, boring furniture matched the brown marble countertops, and the same plush carpeting flowed all the way to the front door, save where speckled tan ceramic tile lined the kitchen floor. The rooms were all large, and besides the doors leading to closets and a powder room, that was it. The entire apartment. Like in the bathroom, it smelled of new paint and cleaning products, and Riley assumed it was staged for sale. Or maybe a new purchase, since there was absolutely nothing on the countertops. No cute canisters, no fancy toaster or coffeepot. Nothing that would help her.
No time to search drawers. Both guys approached her again, one from either side of the island. The one she’d scratched still held his cheek, blood seeping through his fingers, and looked very pissed. The other was cautious, moving more slowly than his partner.
“You guys know how to drain me?” she taunted. “You wanna become leeches like your pal Anson? You have to start with a willing goddess, morons. You can’t just steal it the way you are. If it were that easy, everyone would be doing it.”
“Don’t listen to her,” the unscratched guy told his friend. “Anson said we’ll have all the power we want. He knows how to do it.”
“Why would you believe him?” They’d stopped moving, and she caught her breath. If she could distract them long enough, maybe she could find a way to knock them out completely this time. There was no one else here, so she had time…
She’d barely thought the words before the jinx went into effect. The front door opened, and four more dudes with rich-kid clothes and lightened, carefully tousled, or just-a-bit-too-long hair came in. They stared at the group in front of them, and unfortunately for Riley, easily grasped what was going on. There was only one thing left to do.
She opened her hands and let the metal pieces clatter to the floor.
…
“This is taking too long.” Sam stopped halfway down the first second-floor corridor and stuck his hands on his hips. Way too many apartments stretched ahead of them. At every door he stopped, concentrated, registered Marley as a kind of marker, and tried to sense anyone in the apartment. Sometimes they heard TVs, people talking or yelling or laughing, music, or odd noises he couldn’t identify. Regular sounds of regular people living regular lives. He never got anything like the seventh sense that identified Marley as non-regular, and every stop took a couple of minutes. At this rate, it could be hours before they found Riley and Quinn.
“We should go upstairs. Start at the top.”
“We could. But you said you thought it was equally likely they’d use a smaller apartment to throw you off, in case you knew they were rich. Or used to be.”
Sam moved to the next door and closed his eyes, leaning close. Silence. Darkness. Nothing. “I don’t know. This just seems fruitless. But if we go upstairs and no one is up there, it’ll be just as much a waste of time.” He tried the next door. More TV murmuring, nothing else. “I don’t even know if I’m doing this right.” He fisted his hand and brought it up like he’d hit the wall, but landed it in a light tap, instead.
“Are you okay?” Marley stepped closer and looked up at him with concern. “You don’t seem right.”
“I’m fine.” He shoved away from the wall and kept going. The mess of hunger and illness and nerves was nothing compared to what might be happening to his…to Riley and Quinn. A ticking clock at the back of his head told him they might already be too late. “Let’s go upstairs. There’s nothing down here.”
Marley didn’t answer, but speed-thumbed the buttons on her phone as they waited for the elevator. Sam assumed she was texting Nick to tell him what they were doing.
He closed his eyes and let his mind go, feeling for Riley. His anxiety could be messing everything up. Or maybe some of the power had drained, and he didn’t have enough to find her. He could have bypassed her location already.