Footsteps approached, and the library’s door flew open before I had the chance to blow the candle out. I whirled around to see Alistair standing on the threshold, his focus locked on me.Bollocks.I sucked on my teeth.
“Miss Elodie,” he sighed. “We meet again, it seems. I thought I’d warned you not to wander at night… Especially not alone.”
“I—” I frowned, glancing over my shoulder.
The spot where Preston stood only a moment ago was left cold. The candle glimmered lonely on a shelf, dangerously closeto the old books. My gaze darted around the library, but there was no sign of the blonde boy ever being there.
Coward.
“Are you looking for someone, Miss?” Alistair asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Something,” I corrected him. “Is there a chance you know a book calledTome of Fates? I hoped I would find it here.”
Alistair scratched his chin, shaking his silver head. “Sadly no. But you might have better luck in the great library. The collection there is much wider—” The grandfather clock struck midnight, the blaring sound filling the hallways. “For now, I think it’s better if you retire, Miss Smith.”
I pressed my lips into a thin line, and shook my head.
“I’m not afraid of the dark.” But as I said it, my mum’s words echoed in my head.
Bad things lurk in the dark, bug.Never trust the darkness. Do not let it get you.
Most of the time, I wasn’t sure what she truly meant. One thing I did know—she wasn’t really afraid of the dark itself. She was afraid of something that she believed to be living within it. But whatever it was, she never told me.
Something heavy shifted in my chest as Alistair lifted one of his silver eyebrows.
“Would you like me to escort you back to your room, Miss?” His gaze was steady as he watched me.
“I’ll be fine on my own,” I answered, taking a hold of the candle Preston had left behind and sparing one last glance at the dark room.
Alistair went ahead, and even though I said I didn’t need his assistance, he somehow happened to walk the same route I did. He stayed in front of me the whole way, and I caught him glancing back just as I passed my mum’s old room. Itook a hesitant step forward then halted, waiting until Alistair disappeared behind the next corner.
Only when I was sure I was alone did I raise my eyes to the carved door. I slipped the hairpin out of my pocket and slid it into the keyhole, my fingers closing around the icy-cold handle. I moved the pin with slow precision, only for the door to open on its own. Strange. It wasn’t even locked.
Stepping over the threshold, gloomy darkness welcomed me into the room, a musty smell splashing me in the face. I searched for the light switch in the pale candlelight and after a soft click the room flickered to life. From the dark wallpaper laced with golden vines, to the moth-eaten curtains drooping above the bed, I observed a piece of my mother’s childhood. Step by step, I took it all in. From the shabby furniture with ornate silver handles and the faint remnants of boy band stickers on them, to the desk’s drawer hanging open. It all made it seem as if time itself had frozen here.
I stepped closer to the desk and gently closed the book on top of a pile.Der Geraubte Schleier - The Stolen Veil.
Thump.
I looked up from the book, my eyes drifting toward the closed door. Even if someone was out there, they would have no idea I was in here. As quietly as I could, I moved toward the bed, my eyes glued to the entrance. I sat down on the mattress, waiting for the sound to return, but it never did. My hand halted above the bedside table. Just a look. I pulled the drawer open, its contents clattering against each other. I cursed under my breath, snapping my gaze to the door once more.
This was a big house.No one could hear me. Slowly, I turned my attention back to the things my mum must’ve left behind all those years ago. An empty lipstick bottle, a few broken pens, a silver hand mirror with tangled vines and flowers etched on it, and a leather-bound book.
I took the latter and shifted higher on the bed, the springs creaking beneath me. As I opened the book, a paper fell out and landed on my lap. A familiar black horse stared up at me from the yellowed paper, tall, strong, her head gracefully tilted. I lifted it up, the fabric soft with age under my fingers, and turned it around.
I read the back of the photo. So Lilith was my mum’s horse? I tucked a loose dark curl behind my ear, turning a page in the book.
Hudson.
As in Hudson Lamont? They obviously had to know each other, if he had her book. But—were they friends? I turned the next page to find it empty. I flipped through the book.Empty. Empty. Empty.So she only wrote one single page?
A knock came from the other side of the wall, drawing my eyes up from the diary. I stared at the closed door when another low thump broke the silence. Alistair’s warning echoed in my head as I slowly walked to the door, pressing my ear against the cold wood. My heart thudded heavier in my chest as I listened, trying to make sense of what I could be hearing this time of the day.
An eerie feeling closed in around me, digging its claws into my skin. I was being watched, my instincts told me, yet I couldn’t see anything that would prove that to be true. I was just being paranoid again.
I hurried back to the bed, casting one last glance around the room and trying to shake off the feeling of surveying eyes. Pulling my legs to my chest, I opened my mother’s diary again, rereading the single page.
Vitalie. Alex. Hudson.
