Page 51 of Petrify

Not that it’s unexpected—her mind is inquisitive. She would not have made that deal with me otherwise.

Still, I let the anger fester in my chest.

She’s pushing me. Sinking her claws into me. Whether she knows it or not.

No—sheknowsexactly what she’s doing. Even if she won’t admit it.

Once I am in the safety of the dark, I’m flinging the plaster away from my face before I even realize what I’m doing. Stupid, because it could shatter in a second, and then I’ll truly be relegated to the shadows. But it only clatters to the rug, staring back up at me with its simple expression. Like looking in a mirror—I’m staring at my face, the contours of the mask more familiar to me than the flesh it hides.

Rage erupts from my chest.

Why do I wear it?

Because Ihaveto.

A hissing sound softly emerges from the corner of the room. I whip towards the sound.

A black snake is coiled in the corner.

It must have found its way into the house, hunting mice, earlier in the season. It doesn’t know it should be sleeping, it seems.

Stuck within these walls with me, lost in a world so different from its own, with no sustenance, no way of escape. The black scales almost blend into the midnight darkness. It can hide, at least. We have that in common.

When I crouch before the creature, its tongue darts out, tasting the air.

It’s harmless.

She’s not afraid of me.

Buttheyare, and I have a reputation to uphold.

Chapter 24

The Pianist

Monday begins with a scream,its urgency dampened by the many walls between myself and the culprit. In front of my mirror, I comb the tangles from my hair, when the shrill sound emerges from deep within the manor, full of terror.

I drop the brush and run from the room, only to stop in my tracks the moment I pass over the threshold.

Something black and scaly slinks around the corner at the end of the hall.

The voices grow louder, an angry feminine voice shouting from the main hall, nearly hysterical in its intensity. A few other voices, softer, placating murmurs echoing off the walls.

Mariane Beauchene stalks across the house in her pristine white robe, silk pajama pants underneath, accusation in her eyes. Her blonde hair is unruly. I have the distinct thought that not many people have seen this woman so disheveled.

“There’s another over here.” Nathan pauses tentatively near a corner.

And then I see what he’s referring to. A black snake, curled up against the wood paneling of the hallway, slithering slowly in my direction. Nathan just stares at the scaly creature.

Maxim has a phone to his ear, trying to coax Mariane back in the opposite direction. When her eyes land on me, frozen in my doorway, she bares her teeth in an expression so primallyfurious. “You. This is your fault.”

“Mar—Mrs. Beauchene, please.” Maxim quickly barks something into his phone before shoving it in his pocket, his hand extended to his boss in a soothing gesture. “Miss Doyle didn’t bring snakes into the house.”

Nathan stares down at the creature with a puzzled expression, though he seems in no rush to pick it up.

Mariane points her finger straight at me, eyes narrowed, stepping closer with every breath. “Maybe not, but he wouldn’t have done this if not for you?—”

“He?” I glance to Maxim for help, not understanding.