Under Lock And Key Miraculous Novels & Stories

They seemed unusually cheerful, their voices filled with glee as they discussed how much money they were about to make. Peeking out cautiously, I saw the leader, a bald man with a gruff demeanor, directing his men as they carried a bulging sack. The sack wriggled—it wasn't just cargo. I didn't know how Stephen managed it, but he cried out, "Help!" as he struggled in the sack. The bald man swore loudly, "Dang it! Didn't you shut his mouth up properly?" His men scrambled to silence the voice, shoving the sack into the stairwell of their building.

“There is.” The words settled like a blade against bone. Margaret stared at him. “That’s impossible.” Maxwell didn’t blink. “Father told me when I was twelve.” Silence. Samuel’s voice trembled. “Told you what?” Maxwell’s eyes remained on the burning Manor feed. “Founder Lock was never a single-point override.” Jonathan’s pulse sharpened. “Dual authentication.” Maxwell nodded once. “One key activates. The other commands.” Margaret shook her head. “I held the Founder’s Key for twenty years.”

Vance sobbed once, and the sound did not belong to a villain. The Locksmith's keys began to shake. Katherine saw it. "You know," she said. The Locksmith stood. "No review proceeds until the table is secured." Too late. The brass key on his wrist unlocked by itself. A small door opened in the tabletop. Something black pushed one finger through from beneath. Before the brass key moved, the room tried one last ordinary cruelty. It offered Jack proof that the Locksmith was useful.

Jason asked with furrowed brows, "How did you get all those scars? I made explicit arrangements for them to take good care of you." I snorted. "Jason, I begged you, but you ignored me." When I could no longer take it at the mental asylum, I found a way to steal a phone to call Jason for help. When he heard my voice, he said something to me I could never forget. "Madeline, you're still being naughty even when you're in the asylum. Are you forcing me to lock you up in prison so you'll be good?" There was no difference between locking me up in a prison and a mental asylum.

I murmured with a pleasure filled huff blowing out. The locker room soon enough turned into every girl’s fantasy land as my personal locks to paradise were opened by his long, thick, enormous key (Wink, wink). * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A small silver key that looks awfully like something that would fit into the padlock outside. It seemed a little too...convenient. Perhaps this is some kind of test. Maybe I will escape and Guards will be there to torture. However, if I just stay here, then I'm setting myself up for something bad, anyway. Walking over to the bars, I stick my arm back through. The grime catches on my skin as I struggle to grab the golden lock, but I hardly notice it. My fingers graze the lock before I grasp the cool metal, angling it close enough for me to stick the key in. It turns without hesitation, and the chain that holds the door closed comes loose.

The key to this lock. I went around the podium and in front of the huge book. I took off the necklace and looked at the key in my palm. Contemplating, thinking of the magic placed into the book. My fingertips hovered slightly above the surface of the cover – looking back at the small golden key on my other hand. There was a slight hesitation in me, but despite that, I exhaled and touched the book.

They were like a wind freezing everything they touched. I went down to the cellar. The air was thick with the scent of earth and old oak. I moved past the rows of bottles my heart pounding in my chest. The 1945 reserve was tucked away in a corner protected by a wrought-iron gate. I pulled out the key from around my neck. The Third Key, a small USB device encased in silver. And inserted it into the hidden lock behind the rack.

The attending physician approaches with a stun baton. Joseph Stout holds Rebecca Caldwell, the woman he's never gotten over, against his chest. He says, "Lillian, admit you're crazy, and I'll leave Noah alone." Rebecca leans against him with a sweet smile. "Just admit it, Lillian. Joseph is only trying to help you." Joseph looks at me like I'm something he scraped off the bottom of his shoe. "Sign the psychiatric evaluation papers. Don't make me force you." I wipe the sweat from my face and smile at the security camera. "Joseph, did you forget? I still have your company's master key." His expression flickers, but he quickly scoffs. "No one's going to take a lunatic seriously." Right i

“They’re not my favorite accessory.” “Luckily I have a gift from an admirer of yours,” Harry tossed her a key. It was carved from bone, heavy, ornate, and old-fashioned in style. Much too big for the small keyhole, and yet as she picked it up, it shimmered and shifted, until she held something in her hand that was almost identical to the one that Logan wore around his neck. “Skeleton key. Don’t lose it. We need it for something else.” “You found Connery,” Meguitte said softly recognizing the signature of the magic as she fitted the key into the lock and freed her wrists. “How is he?”