A Job From Hell (Ancient Legends #1)

Dallas’s monster of a suitcase up a hill, I’d be able to transport
an oversized book.
    Aidan sounded pleased too. “You rock, babe.
Now get back here.”
    Right. Now came the hard part. Where was
the way out? I stumbled forward, standing right under the opening in the
ceiling, and looked up. Whoever hid the book either had a rope with them, or
could climb up walls like Spiderman.
    “Guys, I’ve no idea how to get out.” I
tried to infuse cheeriness into my tone when pictures of me, trapped in this
place, flashed through my mind. I wasn’t going to end up a skeleton, nails
scratching at the bare walls as I tried to climb my way out to no avail.
    “There’s got to be some sort of tunnel,”
Devon said. “Keep searching.”
    Scowling, I scanned the floor for the
umpteenth time. “What do you think I’m doing? Picking flowers?”
    No trapdoor, no hidden opening, nothing. I
always hated playing hide and seek. Dallas’s fetish for hiding my stuff and
then watching me cuss my way through searching for it while he guffawed like an
idiot, always turned me into a raging lunatic. I sank down next to the mattress
and pressed my back against the wall, taking one deep breath after another. I’d
literally skimmed every inch of this awful place. Where else could I look?
    “Have you found it?” Devon asked. “You need
to hurry. The book’s very important.”
    Not to mention my wellbeing. I rolled my
eyes. “Of course. I’m standing in front of the exit. Just taking a few pictures,
you know, to remind me of my time in the otherworld.”
    Maybe I could summon some deceased souls
and send them after Devon & co. right now, because apart from seeing a few
dead people and what happened to them, the prize had brought me nothing but
hassles.
    “If you could just hurry up with the
pictures then, we’d really appreciate it,” Devon said. Not only was he annoying
as hell, he was also dense. Leaning against the bed, I felt my hand sink right
in. I turned to examine the wide cut at the foot of the mattress, inconspicuous
in the dim light. The material seemed stretched over a long string as wide as
two fingers. I pulled it out and stared at the metal hooks running every few
inches. Were they supposed to fit in somewhere?
    “Hey, anyone know anything about rock climbing?
With hooks and stuff?”
    Silence, then Aidan said, “Oh, God. Is
there any other way you could get out of there?”
    “I’ll just grow myself a pair of wings.” I
bit my tongue hard, holding back another remark. No need to take it out on him
just because he had a point. He had yet to see my acrobatic side—the one I’d
put to use for the first time in my life. “I get it. You’re clueless, too.” I
nodded to myself. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll figure it out myself.”
    Swinging the rope over my shoulder so the
hooks dangled and clattered, I brushed my hands over the walls until I found the
tiny indentations in the stone that were too small to see with the naked eye. Under
my fingers, I felt the metal rings inside the indentations, smooth to the
touch. I tied the rope around my waist, securing it with a knot, then wrapped
it a few times around the book to keep it secured against my back, and glanced
up.
    “Now what?” I examined a hook as I
considered my options. Obviously they were meant to clasp around the ring, but
how was I going to climb up there to attach those? “Darn it.”
    “Are you okay? Anything happened?” Aidan’s
voice boomed, jolting me out of my thoughts. I could only hope he wasn’t going
to interrupt my concentration while I dangled from a rope in mid-air.
    “Just peaches, thanks. Now if you could just
keep quiet for a minute. Thanks,” I said.
    After a last look at the rope tied around my
waist, I squeezed the hook into the first indentation and wriggled it about until
it connected with the ring. Standing on my toes, I attached the next one half a
foot higher, grabbed hold of it and tried to pull myself up. Groaning from the
effort, I realized it wasn’t going to work unless I grew myself a pair of
bodybuilder biceps.
    “What happened to the good ole’ stairs?” I
whispered.
    With a sigh I heaved myself up for another
try, pushing the tip of my boot into the first indentation for more leverage as
I climbed up. I reached the second hook and stretched my arm as far as I could
to grasp the third dent above my head, blindly fidgeting with the catch until
it connected with the ring. From where I hung, I figured there