As the portal lights flash green, Betty says, "We could knock the Moseby kid out you know. Tranquilize him. Grab the whole stash."
It's 5.30 pm and we're about to make our last jump for the day. Everyone is exhausted. But still desperate to fill the weekly quota.
The portal hums and everyone yanks their face mask down.
Betty's voice is a plea over the comm link. "I've done the research. Four women all firing dart guns at once. We can do this ladies."
The portal throws us over.
The co-ordinates are off. We've landed on a kitchen bench. And we're probably inside a McMansion. Lots of distance to cover. Gabby does a fast sweep with the tracker, then points a finger upwards.
We flap our wings and rise. Listening for sounds, alert for any sudden movement. We follow stairs up to a pale blue door covered the artwork of a young child. The door is solid and I feel the magic begin to drain as we pass through it.
But the tracker in Gabby's hand lights up like a christmas tree. We're near a tooth of fine quality. Probably a front lower. And hopefully not buried under a pillow.
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