Page 19 of (Mostly) Human Resources

“Mercyhill,” Nic said, slamming the phone down. “Keep trying to reach him, and if you get him, tell him that under no circumstances is he to venture into Mercyhill on his own. Is that clear?”

“Uh, yes, sure, I will tell him.”

Nic ransacked his desk. Papers, files, and books went flying. He shoved his most recent notes into his satchel.

“Context, though, you know.” Zachary watched the chaos in disbelief. “Might prove useful, if I do catch him.” Nic moved to the door, out into the hall and to the elevators. Zachary trailed behind.

“It could be a trap, the creature—Mercyhill. It’s believed that’s where it lives, or where it hunts. Someone like Elliot is way out of his depth. He doesn’t have any clue what he’s dealing with.” The elevator arrived and Nic stepped inside. Zachary quickly joined him.

“Got it, okay, makes sense. But where areyougoing?” Zachary eyed his bag.

“Well, someone has to stop him, or else …joinhim. This might be our only chance to ever document the creature.” The elevator arrived at the lobby and Nic was out in a flash.

“Wait, you’re going out there yourself? Right now? Without clearance—hey, wait!” Zachary dashed after him, fumbling for his keycard to get through the security barriers.

“No time to talk, Hornsby! I’ll call you from the airport!”

And just like that, Nic Dyre was gone.

The sun crept over the horizon as Alexys’s flight descended into Charleston, West Virginia.

The journey had been easy, and it was only a 40-minute cab ride to the hotel. She pulled up the reservation on her phone and then sent a plane and thumbs-up emoji to Natalie. The hotel, which was really more of a bed and breakfast, was … quaint. The Colonial Revival-style building was in need of a fresh coat of paint, but the lobby was abuzz with guests finishing their complimentary breakfasts, which Alexys thought looked pretty good right about now. She dropped her bag at the reception desk and cleared her throat. The girl behind the counter looked no older than 16. She smacked a piece of gum in her mouth as she flipped through a magazine.

“Excuse me?”

The girl glanced up over the edge of her magazine and sighed dramatically. Setting the gossip rag down, she popped her gum again.

“Right, can I help you?”

“Yes, checking in, please, I have a reservation.” Alexys tried to be polite, but every time the girl smacked her gum, she had the urge to snatch it from her mouth and toss it in the trash.

“What’s the name?”

“Alexys Keane. It should be under my company’s name: Entity.”

The girl tapped on her keyboard with overly long, albeit beautifully painted, nails and asked, “There’s two?”

“Right. Mine is the one under my name … um … Alexys Keane.” She spoke slowly, and the girl rolled her eyes.

“Mmkay, your room is pre-paid and it comes with breakfast. I reckon you’re not familiar with these parts, so if you want a map, there’s one on the table on your way out. Breakfast is served from seven to ten. Any questions?” Alexys shook her head and accepted the room key. “Good. Elevator is by the staircase, if you need it.”

“Oh, and my colleague, Elliot Harman, what room number is he in, please?”

The girl narrowed her eyes at her but shrugged. “Same floor as yours, at the end of the hall. Room twenty-three.”

“Great, thank you.” The girl dismissed her with a flick of the magazine and a smack of gum.

Relieved to get away, Alexys dragged her suitcase through the foyer to the elevator.

She hesitated when it slid open. It was a far cry from the sleek, modern elevators she used every day at Entity. This was practically an antique. Wrought iron doors rattled open, revealing a small wooden box of a room. As soon as she stepped in, the whole cage shuddered, and Alexys silently prayed the mechanics of it were up to code.

The door groaned as it began to shut until a hand reached in and stopped it. Alexys looked up. The hand was connected to a well-dressed gentleman who offered Alexys a subtle bow of his head. She smiled, the sort that was born of southern-raised good manners and stiffly polite. He stepped into the other side of the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor.

As the elevator hummed to life, she took in the scuffed toes of her tennis shoes, the weathered fabric looking even worse for wear next to this man’s immaculate pair of dress shoes. She was no expert, but they looked insanely expensive. She strained her eyes to read the smallest sliver of a Prada logo peeking out from the hem of his trousers. His shiny, black leather shoes were entirely spotless, like he’d only bought them just that morning. Alexys looked at her comfy leggings and couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. They were two sides of a very strange corporate coin.

When they reached the second floor, he kindly stepped out to allow her enough room to maneuver both herself and her suitcase.

Alexys stared up to the plaques across the hall, signaling which direction to go for which rooms.