A low hum escaped his lips as he rested his head on one hand. His expression was infuriatingly smug, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Quid mihi prodest?” he asked smoothly.
I stiffened, my nostrils flaring. “Just translate it,” I said, quieter now.
His poisonous smile spread wider. “What’s in it for me?”
I scoffed. Of course he wanted something. Everyone always wants something.
“What do you want?”
He lifted a finger to his bottom lip, pretending to think, but I was sure he already had something in mind.
“Tell me, poison, why are you lurking around at night?” he leaned forward, his words no more than whispers, as if he too felt someone listening. “What’re you looking for?”
What was I looking for? “Nothing,” I answered without blinking. He was still for a moment, then turned his attention back to the chessboard, making another move, clearly not satisfied.
I groaned. Not with sound, just internally.
“I’m trying to learn more about my mum,” I admitted. “Now tell me what the words mean.”
His green eyes flashed darkly at me, like he was contemplating believing me or not. Then, he leaned forward once more, every movement deliberate, tense. “Darkness consumes, darkness takes, and from it, we rule. Roughly… your pronunciation is horrendous.”
A grim twisted on my lips. Darkness consumes, darkness takes. Why would Lilian say this during a business meeting? I pushed my chair back, the sound shattering the tense silence. I had no intention of staying any longer. But before I could stand, his hand darted out and pressed firmly over mine. My blood ran cold at the sudden contact.
“Keep digging, and you’ll get buried with the bones,” he lowered his voice, his green eyes fathomless.
“Are you threatening me?”
A pause. A smile, cruel and sharp, curled on his lips. “When I threaten you, I promise, you won’t need to ask.”
When.Not,if. A chill threaded down my spine, but it passed quickly. His words were only intimidation dressed as poetry. But I wouldn’t let him get to me. I blinked once, then yanked my hand free of his, my fingers brushing coldly against his one last time. Whether it was a threat or not, Preston Davenport wasn’t someone I would ever come to trust.
I turned on my heel and walked away, back toward where I left Hudson, only to find him gone.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ELODIE
Iturned right between the trees, following a narrow path barely visible in the pale moonlight. The ground was frozen under my feet as I dashed through the forest framing Thornhill, sliding between the sharp branches that clawed at my skin. The only sound was my own heart, rumbling in my ears, and the low, melodic murmur of a river nearby. My breathing shortened. I had no idea how long I had been out here, but my skin turned corpse-like blue. The white nightgown I wore nearly snagged on a vicious thorn just before I halted.
I stood in the middle of a small clearing, the feeling that I wasn’t alone crawling up my back as I looked around. A flicker of light between the trees caught my attention and I moved closer, my steps wary. I swept away the branches to discover a small building caged between crimson Virginia Creepers. I tore at them, clawing the vines like a vicious animal, a hungry predator, or maybe a scared prey searching for escape. But why? Why was I here? My palms and nails were streaked red and green with the plants torn flesh as I stood between the bloody river of vines, when the rust-eaten gate suddenly flew open.
I blew out a satisfied breath and crossed the threshold of the mausoleum. I gazed over the walls, cramped with moss-covered crypts from floor to ceiling. Something bright flashed in the corner of my eye, and I snapped my head in its direction, only to see a mirror.
I blinked, and the breath I was taking froze in my throat. The girl in the mirror didn’t do the same. Instead, she tilted her head, her dark curls swirling, as if caught in a current only she could feel.
My eyes widened, my pulse jumping. I staggered back, stumbling, but she didn’t move.
“Elodie,” she whispered. My name echoed like it had been dropped into a deep well, the sound twisting as it travelled, too loud and too distant all at once. Her hand rose slowly and pointed at me, but then it shifted. Beyond me. It wasn’t a smooth motion. It twitched with urgency.
I turned, my gaze following the path of her outstretched finger, and a chill gripped my chest. The far corner of the mausoleum darkened, then writhed. Familiar shadows swirled there, moving with an anxious speed. My stomach churned, a knot of dread tightening as the shadows neared. I could feel them on my skin, damp and cold—but hot all at once. I shivered then sweat, my throat drying and my fingers freezing.
I stepped back, but the shadows rose higher, curling above me like a wave about to crash. Like a threat. Except it wasn't one. It was a warning. But a warning of what? I stared into the void, my heart clawing at my ribs. I saw glimpses of faces—ones I didn’t recognize, yet somehow knew. Their mouths moved, but no sound came. Their eyes were full of sorrow. Or maybe hunger. I couldn’t tell.
Then the ground was gone.
Not a crack or a crumble—just gone, like someone had yanked the world out from under me.
I fell.
