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“Well, I’m not the one who fails to engage the start of this training. Should I just train with the ghosts of this house?”
He had been disappearing most days, coincidentally following a muscle attack.
“Ghosts?” He arches an eyebrow.
“You know, the ones who drag their feet across the floors and dance in between stretches of light.”
He knows what I’m talking about. I wonder if he’ll take the bait further. He genuinely ponders this with a mischievous look.
“I think you’ll fit right in with the ladies.” He moves his hand to my shoulder and squeezes. A month ago I would have crumbled under the tension. Now, I simply shrug his hand away.
“I didn’t think there were other people…here,” I say, moving into dangerous territory. Would he tell me if this was another world?
His eyebrows shoot up, but he quickly hides whatever it is he’s thinking. “Just colleagues, I think you’ll find their presence enlightening. Anyway—” He stretches his hand toward me.
“I have to ask, why are we having such a random party?” I change the subject, and he drops his hand.
“This has never been random. Do you remember when I asked you to be my date? Every year we always meet—a meeting of the minds. It’s dwindled to just the five of us as of recent years, but this one I’ve been planning for a very long time.
“A meeting disguised as celebration?” Just like from the story. Would they force me—Sara—into seeing other dead souls again?
He did not answer.
The lights dim as we navigate the hallway to the Great Room. Before I can press him further though, Daisy brushes past us, her shoulder grazing mine as she disappears across the foyer and around the grand staircase. There’s a small connecting door there that leads into the East Wing’s entrance hall.
“Daisy?” Instinctively, I pivot. After her body had crumpled into nothing, I’d sat there in shock relegating the incident to one of the more bizarre events of this world. She glances at me once, before vanishing through the door. I slip from Kieran’s attention and hurry after her, my legs carrying me without my brain catching up.
Kieran follows in stride as I barrel through the small room, finding myself stopping short at the entrance to the place I hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of finding that creature.
Darkness pools at my feet, spreading out in thin waves. The temperature drops slightly enough to cause a shiver to wrack my frame.
“Did you see your wife?” I ask, knowing I might be poking a monster awake. My sidelong glance as he sidles up beside me, is sharp enough to shed blood.
He laughs, filling the empty room with scorn.
“You know—your laugh is enough to tell me what I need to know.” My hands remain clenched at my sides, because if I even moved, I think I would lash out.
Our gazes clash.
We will not be backing down.
His eyes lower first. “How long have you been seeing her?” He stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I guess I should have asked you this weeks ago.”
“What do you mean?” My fingers itch with the need to hurt something.
“Nothing. Come, let me show you something.” He strides ahead, long legs eating the distance toward and through the deeper shadows of the East Wing.
Stopping, I feel for the knife strapped to my thigh. Could I kill him down here in the below?
“Why did you remove all the pictures of her?” My voice curls through the ruins, an echo of the past and present.
“Since you seem to know everything, this part of the house was caught in flames. Most of the items had to be removed. And if you remember, we still have landscape paintings in the West Wing. But—”
We turn into a hallway I had never noticed before and stop before a door at the far end. There is so much I’m still missing, so many secrets that make me reconsider whether I should tread more carefully in this venture. Still, a gleeful, wicked thrill rises inside me as he withdraws a silver skeleton key. He slides it into a lock with smooth precision and pushes the door open.
“Why do you keep this place locked?”
“Because you manage to get yourself into trouble.” He scoffs.
