Page 77 of Grayson’s Challenge

“Fuck!” Grayson cursed.

Instead of running in the other direction, he ran toward the room where the explosion had taken place. Monique had no choice but to follow him. Whatever had happened, she couldn’t let him deal with it on his own.

Inside the room, the smoke already started dissipating. She let her eyes roam, quickly assessing the situation. The room was large with lots of cabinets holding glass containers—some of them broken—with odd-looking ingredients, a wall with books looking older than Methuselah, and chairs and tables, as well as a large caldron over a firepit in a corner.

Wesley lay on his back on the floor, his face covered in red dust, his dark hair standing up as if he’d gotten an electrical shock. He coughed and sat up.

“Fuck, Wes!” another man groused.

Monique looked at him and recognized him as a witch. He too was on the floor, trying to get up.

“Charles, Wes? You guys okay?” Grayson asked, holding out his hand to help Wesley up.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Wes said with a dismissive hand movement.

“What happened here?” Monique asked.

Charles got up too, and shook his head in Wesley’s direction. “This idiot here didn’t measure the ingredients of the spell correctly. That’s what happened.”

“Hey, could have happened to anybody,” Wes said, shrugging.

“Sure, but it keeps happening to you,” Charles retorted.

“Was that the voodoo spell from Delphine?” Grayson asked.

Wes nodded. “Yeah. Let’s see if it worked.”

He walked to a workbench. It looked like a tornado had touched down there. Monique approached, as did Grayson and Charles.

“Hey, I’m Charles; you must be Monique.” He extended his hand to her, and she shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Charles.” She looked a little closer at him and pointed to his face. “I think your eyebrows are singed.”

He grunted, then narrowed his eyes at Wesley. “I swear, one of these days, I’m gonna wring your neck.”

The warning rolled off Wesley as if he were made of Teflon. “Don’t worry, they’ll grow back.”

Monique couldn’t help but smile at the exchange. Two witches working together in one lab couldn’t be easy. She caught Grayson’s eyes, and he too grinned. Apparently, the two witches arguing wasn’t new.

“So, did the spell work?” Grayson asked eagerly.

Wesley reached for a small piece of paper with charred edges. It looked like a part of a map. He turned to Charles. “Charles, the map please.”

Charles opened a drawer and pulled out a map, then unfolded it on the workbench. Wesley bent over it and compared the charred piece with the map, until he finally laid it on the intact map and looked up.

“Looks like they’re being kept somewhere between the Bayview and Silver Terrace. Sorry that it’s not any more precise, but I guess it’s a start,” Wesley announced.

Monique’s heart leapt. This was good news.

“Not just a start,” Grayson said. “This is in line with Rufus’s cell phone’s last known position, and where the fourth van has been found.”

“Glad we could help,” Wes said. “Now, maybe you could put in a good word with Amaury to approve some minor renovations for the lab.” He motioned to the busted door and the charred walls and broken furniture.

Grayson smirked. “That can be arranged. But I suggest you don’t start with repairing anything until you’re done with mixing potions for the rescue mission.”

“Don’t you trust my abilities?”

“Oh, I do,” Grayson said, winking at Charles, before looking back at Wesley. “Just not your execution.”