Twenty
Asher
“If you bitches don’t shut the f**k up right now,” a voice boomed from down the hall, barely audible over the sound of McKenna’s wailing, “I swear to God Almighty, I’ll—”
Sadly, God Almighty would never know what he’d do, because as soon as Reverend Dickface rounded the corner, I bashed his pious head into the wall.
Dragging his body over to the box, I pried open his eyelid and shoved his face in front of the scanner. The reader beeped green, then displayed his name: Derrick Benson. The electronic lock on the bars snicked, the hum of fae magic dissipating immediately.
“Good eye, Benson. Thanks for looking out.” Dropping the dead weight, I grabbed the bars and tugged. They slid open easily. “Haley, McKenna, help me figure out who can walk and who needs help. We need to get
