Hawthorne saw no sign of Rooke. He saw no sign of anyone—until a horse whinnied from the trees.
Going to investigate, he found Emeline’s mare—a strawberry roan—waiting for her rider.
Hawthorne frowned. Was Emeline in that house?
The thought of it—Emeline trapped with a shadow skin—shredded his insides with fear. Gripping the shaft of his ax, Hawthorne left Lament at the gate and strode inside.
The moment he stepped through the door, he heard footstepsoverhead. He glanced at the moldy ceiling, then headed for the stairs, taking them to the second floor.
Someone was up here, moving around. His heart raced. If it was one of those monsters … if it had Emeline …
He needed to get to her.
Hawthorne made his way down the sunlit hall. The floorboards creaked beneath his footsteps as he made his way towards the noise. Arriving at the room it came from, he raised his ax and stepped into the open doorway.
A knife was at his throat before he could even take a swing.
“Drop the weapon!” Emeline hissed. Her eyes narrowed as she backed him up against the doorjamb.
Startled, Hawthorne did as she said.
The ax fell to the floor with a thud.
“Why are you here?” she demanded, increasing the pressure of her blade on his throat. Beyond her, other than some overturned furniture, the room was empty.
Hawthorne lifted his hands to show he meant no harm.
Why is she being so hostile?
“Rooke said there was trouble, so I came,” he told her. “What are you doing here?”
“I got a note from Sable. How do I know you aren’t a shadow skin?”
Hawthorne frowned. He’d seen no sign of Rooke or Sable since arriving. And now that he was thinking about it, if their friends were in trouble, would they have had time to write a note?
Keeping your distance from her is how you fucked things up the first time. So maybe do the opposite of that.
Oh.
“They set us up,” he realized aloud.
“What?” said Emeline.
The cold burn of her blade reminded Hawthorne of the danger he was still in.
“Rooke and Sable set us up,” he said, catching her gaze. “There’s no shadow skin.”
He wasn’t certain of it. But he had a strong hunch.
“How do I know you’re not trying to trick me?”
“If you remove your knife from my throat, I’ll help you search the house and grounds.”
“How do I know you’re even human?”
Human.The word clanged through him.
I hate to break it to you, but that’s what humans do …
