Rook

young Rook’s mouth a few licks with some fine sandpaper.
    “It’s all collapsing,” Thomas moaned. “I’m breaking up.”
    “Oh, Myfanwy,” Ingrid breathed in horror. “What happened to you?”
    “My thoughts,” Thomas whispered desperately. She looked up at Ingrid, and the horrified secretary saw threads of blood slide down her lips. “They’re drifting away. He licked them out of me, and now they’re fading.”
    “What? Who did this to you?” asked Ingrid, going down on her knees and reaching out a trembling hand. Thomas flinched away. “Myfanwy, I’m going to get help. I’ll call security, and the medics—” Ingrid broke off when her boss grasped her arm with a surprising strength.
    “You can’t, because that’s not how it’s supposed to play out,” said Thomas frantically. “Today’s the day, and I have to leave. Besides, I can’t trust anyone, they might be sent to kill me. There’s a traitor. There’s—” Her brow wrinkled. “It’s gone already.” She buried her face in her hands. “It’s gone. I finally knew. I finally knew who it was and… God
damn it!”
she shrieked. Ingrid jumped at the sudden sound and saw that Thomas was now looking at her with burning eyes. Thomas looked around desperately. “Did you hear that?”
    “We’ve got to get you out of here,” said Ingrid briskly. “Whoever it is will know to look for you here.”
    “There’s a door,” said Thomas. “A door in the office.” She struggled to her knees, although she was still shivering terribly.
    “The one to the residence?” Ingrid asked.
    “
No,
that’s where they came from,” said Myfanwy, her eyes rolling in panic. “Some of them are dead now, and the others are stunned, but I know more can get in.” She stiffened. “More have come into the residence, I can feel them. The door’s locked, but it won’t stop them.”
    “There are dead people in your residence?” asked Ingrid.
    “Please, help me to the office,” insisted Myfanwy, ignoring Ingrid’s question. With a visible effort, she used the wall to stand herself up. She swayed, and Ingrid hurriedly reached out to support her. Ingrid felt her own muscles tense and then relax abruptly as Thomas’s powers coursed through her. For a moment, Ingrid looked through the younger woman’s eyes andsaw herself. Her lips burned, and pain tore through her head. And then it all snapped back.
    “Sorry,” mumbled Thomas weakly.
    “It’s fine,” said Ingrid. “Don’t worry about it. Now,” she said briskly, “into your office?”
    “Hurry,” said Thomas. “They’re coming.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “I can feel them.”
    Ingrid stared levelly at her boss. Though nominally composed of secretive people, the Checquy was a relatively small community. The nature and limitations of Thomas’s talent were a matter of common knowledge.
    “You can feel them?” She looked at Thomas and saw dark bruises rising up around her eyes. “Oh, Jesus.”
    “Hurry.” Together, they managed to make their way into the office, and Ingrid moved expectantly toward the portraits.
    “No,” said Thomas. “Not there.” She tottered over to a corner of the room and drew back the carpet. Built into the floor was a metal hatch with a keypad set into it. The Rook knelt down awkwardly, punched in a code, and the metal door slid up smoothly, revealing an extremely steep and narrow spiral staircase that disappeared into darkness.
    “Where does that go?” asked Ingrid. She was a trifle taken aback by the discovery of a hidden hatch in an office she’d been in hundreds of times. But on this night, it didn’t rank as the most startling thing to happen.
    “Garage,” said Thomas. “Private section in the parking garage across the street.”
    “As in cars?” said Ingrid incredulously. “You can’t drive like this! You can barely stand up!”
    Thomas opened her mouth to say something, and then gave a little jerky nod of acknowledgment. She shrugged Ingrid’s hand off her shoulder and swayed a little, but she stayed upright as she put her hands to the sides of her head and took a deep, shaky breath. Then, under Ingrid’s horrified gaze, the Rook’s eyes rolled back in their sockets. Ingrid bit her lip but assumed that this part was deliberate.
    A couple of minutes passed, during which Ingrid kept looking anxiously over her shoulder, waiting for whoever had done this awful thing to RookThomas to emerge from behind a portrait, brandishing dreadful