Erica's POV
I woke up uneasy. I probably had a bad dream I couldn't quite remember but no one needed to tell me what was wrong because my whole body could. I was mentally tired, thinking about Alexis and her safety.
I was physically tired and weak as I hadn't fully healed before this whole drama started over what I knew absolutely nothing about.
I could hear him pacing outside on the pouch. The steps kind of shook the house and the sound of the creaking was the least of his concern. I could tell this had to be about the threats or something happen while I was asleep. I walked over to join him on the pouch.
"Did something happen?" I asked.
He was too angry to reply. He was gripping the wooden rail very hard. I could feel the aggression like it was steam around him and worse, he was feeling like his old self. I couldn't help but wonder if the pressure was pulling him back towards the violent side he's been trying to keep buried.
"Tyler?" I asked again to jolt him back to me.
"What is it?"
"I asked if something happened while I was asleep?"
He seemed reluctant to answer that question. I needed no wizard to tell me something did.
"Tell me" I finally said as he kept avoiding my eyes.
"Well, they sent a link last night while you were asleep. It was a video link to a live feed. They want me alone, no cops, no you. Just me."
There was a brief silence as if to build up tension then he said "If I don't come, they will kill her and if I do come, they would kill you"
I gasped. That's what all the pacing is about.
While the silence settled like a visitor, a link came again. Same live feed.
"Do we open it?" he asked.
"Yeah?"
"What if it's a trap or some virus to track where we are. They don't know where we are, remember?"
"They've got Alexis. We can't let them kill her when she was only trying to help me"
"Alright."
He taps the link and it takes a moment to load because we were close to nowhere but it finally did.
The feed begins and it's Alexis but this time it was in a different place. She's not in the usual storage room but somewhere that looks like an abandoned car park. It looked deserted but with a bit of old cars.
She seemed disoriented as if she had been drugged. She was speaking but it seemed someone was feeding her lines. She kept pausing often like she was listening to instructions whispered just off camera. She was saying things to provoke Tyler, bringing up his suspension, his temper and suggesting that I wasn't safe with him.
The grainy video flickered, and I force myself to focus on anything other than Alexis's terrified eyes. Panic wouldn't help her. Details would. Tyler was too angry to know that.
Behind her, the space was dim, lit only by the rising morning sunlight. To the left, part of the wall was visible-paint chipped away to reveal cracked, gray tile. In the far corner, I could hear something dripping steadily into a metal pan, each drop echoing like a clock ticking down.
I learned forward. "Tyler, do you hear that?"
He didn't answer. His shoulders were stiff, hands clenched so tightly around the edge of the table that his knuckles were white. The muscles in his jaw pulsed.
"Tyler-"
Alexis's voice cut through, brittle but deliberate. "You can't keep her safe, Tyler. You couldn't keep your team safe, either." She paused, like waiting for some cue, then continued. "You can't keep her safe, Tyler. You couldn't keep your team safe, either." She paused, like she was waiting for some kind of cue, then continued. "You lost everything once because you couldn't control yourself. Do you really want her to be next?"
I saw his nostrils flare, and a dangerous, familiar heat rolled off him. This wasn't just anger—it was the kind of rage that had cost him his career.
"Don't listen," I whispered, but my voice felt small in the tense air.
Alexis hesitated, her eyes darting to someone off-screen. Her lips moved like she was mouthing something, but the sound didn't carry. Then, louder, she said, "They're right, Tyler. You should just—"
Her voice stopped. She glanced sideways again, as if whoever was with her didn't like where she was going.
Then she blurted, "Tyler, there's more than—"
The feed went black.
I sat frozen, staring at the empty screen. "What does she mean? More than what?"
The question echoed in my mind, louder than the quiet hum of the safe house's old refrigerator. My pulse wouldn't slow. Did she mean there's more than one person? The idea slithered in, unwelcome but stubborn, tightening the knot in my stomach.
Tyler's jaw flexed. "She's not just talking about the threats. She's saying there's someone else involved. Maybe more than one." His eyes didn't leave the laptop, scanning the paused frame like it held answers. "But… the way she said it—" He stopped, pressing his lips into a thin line. "I think she was trying to warn us. Before they cut her off."
He leaned back, raking a hand through his hair, and for the first time since the video started, I saw it—the flicker of doubt in his expression. Not about her message, but about how much time we had left to understand it.
Tyler pushed his chair back so hard it scraped against the wooden floor. He paced once, twice, then slammed his fist into the table. The sound made me flinch, but it wasn't fear that made my stomach twist—it was the certainty that he was right on the edge of losing control.
"They're not just playing games anymore," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
The room felt colder, heavier. My heartbeat thudded in my ears. "What are you saying?"
He turned toward me, and in the dim light, his eyes looked almost feral. "They're giving us a deadline without saying it. This is a hunt now."
Before I could respond, his phone vibrated on the table. The sound was sharp in the silence.
We both looked at the screen.
One new message.
No sender ID.
I picked it up, my fingers trembling, and opened it.
Five words glared back at me in bold, black text:
She has until midnight.