Boomer went right for the medical bay doors. “I’ll recheck the med wing. Rurik, can you check the bullpen and the office side of things? I don’t see how she could have gotten that far without anyone noticing her, but who knows what any of the kids are capable of.”
Chapter Three
Rurik pivoted, hurrying back in the same direction he’d come from, a sense of urgency filling his stomach as he did. He understood why he was tasked with searching in this direction for the little girl. It was the least likely to contain the child. After how well he’d handled talking to the other children, he didn’t take offense. Already the children had been traumatized. They didn’t need to be scared more by a man who didn’t know how to show a softer side.
He was nearly to the bullpen when he caught the faint scent of the chemical compound that he’d smelled a week prior. There was a sickeningly sweet note to it, along with the smell of tar.
He stiffened, realizing he was on the trail of the missing child. For a moment, Rurik considered getting another operative, one who was better with children, to come and track the young one. His bear side chimed in with an internal growl, not liking the idea of bringing in anyone else.
Looking up, he focused on the overhead grate leading to the ventilation system. The smell was stronger there. He was hardly an expert on the building’s heating and air system, but he held little doubt a child could fit easily within the shafts.
He couldn’t help but laugh softly as he realized the child had made her escape through the vents, thus avoiding notice or detection.
Smart.
Now that he had the child’s scent, it made tracking her easy enough. He quickly found himself entering the bullpen and nearly to Team Five’s area when he saw it—an open vent in the ceiling. It was directly over Duke’s desk.
The cup of coffee Duke had been drinking was tipped over. Its contents were spilled onto the paperwork that was there, as well as the laptop. Some of the coffee was still dripping over the side of the desk, onto the floor, an indication the spill was recent. The puddle of liquid had been stepped in by tiny feet. Wet footprints headed away from Duke’s desk.
His chest tightened at the sight of how small the footprints were. How could anyone harm a child? His bear, still restless, pushed at him in agreeance. If the opportunity presented itself, Rurik would kill the people responsible for causing the children pain. He wouldn’t wait for permission from those in charge. He would puree them as he had others in the past who’d crossed him.
For now, he’d see to the little one’s safety and hope that in doing so, he didn’t scare her more.
Rurik followed the footprints as far as they went and then paused, seeing his own desk not far from him now. The Statue of Liberty figurine was missing. The stuffed bear was on the floor, on its side, and the pie had a small section that was missing, as if tiny fingers had dipped into it.
Relief filled Rurik at the knowledge she’d been located. The only issue now would be how to handle retrieving her. He didn’t want to frighten her but seemed to have a knack for terrorizing small children.
He practiced smiling but knew without seeing that he looked like a homicidal maniac. That wouldn’t do. The best he could offer was keeping his face devoid of emotion. Nothing had to be better than something when it came to him.
You can do this.
Move forward slowly.
Do not frown.
Do not smile.
Do not scare the living shit out of the child.
With his inner pep talk complete, Rurik took a few steps in the direction the trail went. The firework tablecloth over his desk made the slightest of movements, alerting him that the child was there and probably very aware of his presence. On the plus side, she wasn’t screaming or crying.
Give it a minute.
Boomer and Duke came walking briskly in at the same time from different entrances.
“I found an open access point to the ventilation system in the infirmary,” said Boomer before coming to a stop about ten feet from Rurik’s desk. “I think the kid may be using the vents as a means to get past us all. Crafty little devil. Nimble too. I call ‘not it’ on climbing into the vents to hunt for her there.”
“The kid is smart. We should look at hiring her when she’s, you know, not a kid anymore. I’ve seen trained operatives with less ability to sneak past others,” said Duke. “And I call ‘not it’ on getting in the vents too. That leaves the communist.”
Rurik motioned toward his desk. “It won’t be necessary. I do not believe our little operative in the making is in the vents any longer.”
A slight smile touched Boomer’s lips. “How about I make first contact, since you two keep making kids cry?”
Rurik didn’t want to scare the little one, so he nodded, letting the cat-shifter take over.
Boomer walked slowly to the desk and bent near it, lifting the tablecloth slightly as he did. Tipping his head, he peered in, and raised his body up slightly, but didn’t school his expression fast enough. Horror shone in his eyes for the briefest of seconds before he pressed a pleasant smile to his face. “Hey there, sweetie.”
The smell of cinnamon filled the air, drowning out the smell of the toxic concoction. The temperature in the bullpen dropped enough for Rurik to notice but not enough for him to see his breath.
The hair on his arms stood on end and he realized what he was sensing.
Magik.
Suddenly, Boomer was catapulted back by seemingly nothing. The cat-shifter slammed into one of the half walls with a grunt and hit the floor before rolling to his side and rubbing his chest. “Magik,” he said with a
