A Job From Hell (Ancient Legends #1)

in the morning.” Angel left, locking up behind her.
    A musty smell hung in the air. I scanned
the room. This sure wasn’t the Four
Seasons. Heck, it wasn’t even a youth hostel. No mints on the pillows. No
flowers to spruce up the place. No fancy wallpaper to give it a homey feeling.
And worst of all—it was tiny, not to mention freezing. “Couldn’t spring
for heat?” I mumbled as I wrapped my coat tighter around me.
    And where was the bathroom? Even jail cells
have toilets. Guest quarters? More like the cell on a mental ward. The only
things missing were the metal bars on the window. I hoped on the bed to inspect
the window. It was too small to squeeze through, but I could see the woods
stretching in the distance. We must’ve trekked inside the mountain. Even if I
had a flashlight I doubted I’d find my way out of this place, not least because
my sense of orientation sucked. Back in London I still got on the wrong train
half of the time, even with a map.
    In spite of the cold, I shrugged out of my
coat and kicked my boots off, then jumped under the covers, ready to act
against my better judgment and get some sleep. Aidan’s image appeared before my
eyes. He looked worried but safe. That surely made my current predicament worth
it. Eager to get some sleep, I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t stop fretting for
a long time, tossing and turning as I kept asking myself the same question: how
would Aidan be able to find me here?

 
    ***

 
    Dim light seeped through the muddy window.
The sun stood high on the horizon, but the morning rays were almost as chilly
as the wind. The heavy blanket felt like cold iron, squeezing the air out of my
lungs. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was in Antarctica, and penguins
and polar bears would be peeking through the door any minute now. The memories
of my giant, fancy room, lavender sheets and warm bedspread hit me full force.
Talk about going from riches to rags. Okay, technically it was Aidan’s riches,
but still. I wished he were here to snuggle up and keep me warm. But he wasn’t.
Taking a deep breath, I kicked the sheets aside.
    A narrow strip of light fell on my black coat,
which I had draped over the back of a chair after my arrival. I squeezed into
it, buttoning it up at the front, and tried the door. It was unlocked. The girl
from last night—Angel—dressed in tight jeans and a thick, cream
cardigan, black hair slicked back in a ponytail, leaned against the wall. As
soon as she noticed me, she smiled. “Slept well?” In the glaring brightness, I realized
she looked barely older than fifteen.
    I nodded and examined the corridor to both
sides. My spirits dropped. The air smelled stale. The passages looked all the
same: grey, smooth stone everywhere with naked light bulbs hanging from the
ceiling. Nothing stood out. Even if Aidan managed to find this place, he’d
never find his way out once he entered.
    Angel followed my gaze. “If I were you I
wouldn’t try running. You wouldn’t get far.” She sounded factual, as if it wasn’t
the first time she dished out this advice.
    I raised my brows. “Really? Why’s that?”
    “The perimeter’s heavily guarded.”
Hesitation crossed Angel’s face. She clearly kept something to herself.
    “It’s not just Shadows guarding this place,
is it?”
    Angel shook her head, avoiding my gaze. “You
got that part right. Come on. We’ll get you breakfast before the meeting.” I
nodded, sensing she wouldn’t tell me more, even if I insisted.
    We passed several stone corridors until we
reached an open space with whitewashed walls, tables and chairs, and huge
flower arrangements lined up along one wall. Several Shadows stopped their
chatter and peered at us, brows drawn, the plates in front of them now
forgotten. My stomach churned at the aroma of toast and freshly brewed coffee.
    “I’ve saved us the best view in the house.
Why don’t you take a seat?” Angel pointed at a table near a high bay window
with spectacular scenery of the woods below. “I’ll get us breakfast.”
    We were hundreds of feet above ground, but
how could anyone build a place like this inside a mountain? I sat down and
scanned the room. Ivy grew out of the cracked sandstone walls. Several pillars
of dark marble supported the high ceiling. A fresco painting representing a sundial
hung from one of the walls next to hip-high stone gargoyles covered in ancient
symbols, pictures of battles and dragons. I realized I had been