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Once he was gone she went back out into the hall and picked up her laptop bag. She carried it into the sitting room, where she'd spied a writing desk she could set it up on, for the following day's work. She planned to spend Saturday scouring the town for information about the Ghost Hunter crew's visit, then come back to start her feature. She would get quotes from the Arundel townsfolk, before giving a full description of the house and posing a number of questions for the readers. She'd planned the story as a two-part feature. In this stage she would open with the background of the Ghost Hunter show and Quentin's disappearance, then lead into the local hearsay on Quentin's visit, and finish with a description of the house and its supernatural elements.
The laptop looked out of place on the little desk, with its sunken inkwells and feather quill. She ran her hand up the length of the feather, wondering who had used it and what they had written about. She would have to get clued up on some background information on the occult, she supposed.
A shiver ran up her spine and she wrapped her hand around the back of her neck. As she did she noticed the stillness in the atmosphere, the eerie silence. Then a distant sound caught her attention, a faint noise—a faint wailing noise.
She swallowed, hard, feeling unnerved.
Turning around slowly, she recalled Jake's words about Quentin's mood changes after being in this house. She scanned the room. What had appeared friendly when they first arrived now looked rather disconcerting. Numerous lamps were doing battle with the encroaching shadows, and for some reason she felt as if she was being watched.
"I wonder where the kitchen is," she said aloud, in an effort to break the eerie atmosphere that surrounded her. She had a sudden desire to get out of the creepy room. She dropped the empty laptop bag beside the desk and headed off. In her haste, she snagged the pocket of her combats on the metal rail around a small table. The lamp housed there skidded as a result, sending light and shadow bouncing around the room. She grabbed it and set it back in place, cursing under her breath. She unlatched herself and glanced around the room again. That was when she saw them.
Three women with impassive faces and straggling hair, wearing dark medieval garb, stared down at her from a large painting over the fireplace. Their large, woebegone eyes looked directly at Amy. Her skin tingled with unease. She swallowed. In the background of the scene, she could make out a tall stack of wood, a bonfire. These must be the witches, the coven Jake had referred to when he phoned. With an effort, she turned away to examine the other pictures on the walls.
The three women were depicted again, individually, across twelve pictures, which hung around the walls rather like the Stations of the Cross in a chapel, the large painting over the fireplace presumably representing the altar. The similarity struck her immediately. Each woman appeared four times, the images showing them at tasks like cooking over a pot and stroking a big black cat. She couldn't force herself to look any closer. She darted for the door.
Where was Sebastian? How could she have been so cool about him leaving her there, alone? She gritted her teeth. She didn't want to need him. That would prove her dad right. She needed more lights on, and she'd be fine. Back in the hall, the staircase ran up into darkness. A dim lantern above her head had little hope of illuminating the gaunt hallway properly. The other door that stood ajar let a wedge of light seep out through the gap. She walked over and pushed the door open, revealing a bedroom with a huge four-poster bed. It looked like something out of a haunted house, which did nothing to settle her.
"Where's the kitchen?" she muttered, glancing around. The kitchen would be full of familiar things, white goods and bright lights, she hoped. Turning, she noticed a corridor on the right hand side of the stairs and walked over to it. Where was the light? Fumbling around in the gloom she touched on what felt like a bell pull and when she yanked it on, the corridor lit up. Phew. At the end of the corridor she could make out the shape of a table in the darkness. It had to be the kitchen. She set off, stepping quickly down the corridor.
A loud creak behind her froze her to the spot.
It sounded like floorboards creaking. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Was there someone else in the house? She took another two steps then froze again, when a recessed door further along the corridor slowly opened, creaking as it did so. She stared at it, rigid with fear and expectation.
"Amy?"
"Sebastian." She flattened against the wall and turned back to see him standing in the hall, a wine bottle dangling from one hand.
He was watching her with concern. "What's the matter?"
"It's…Sebastian, there were…noises."
He walked toward her. There it was again, a creaking sound. He paused. "That noise?"
She nodded.
He stepped back. The noise sounded again. He ran his hands over the wall.
"Sensors, it's rigged."
"What?"
"The place is rigged, you went over a sensor. Come back to me and you will see how it works." One corner of his mouth lifted as he beckoned to her.
Warily, Amy took a step in his direction and as she did the door along the corridor slammed shut behind her. It freaked her out and she ran into his arms, a garbled scream escaping her.
Her heart thudded wildly as she clung to him.
Sebastian wrapped his free arm around her. It felt good, it felt solid.
"See, that must be on a spring cable, you've reversed it now."
"Oh." She put her hand to her throat, confusion and relief rushing through her. Even if it was a trick, it had done a good job on her.
She knew she should step away from her unwanted minder, but she couldn't bring herself to do it, not yet.
"Aw, did you get spooked?" He lifted her chin with one finger, and when he looked down into her eyes she could see how amused he was by her predicament.
That leveled her head quickly. Annoyed, she prized herself free of his grip and stepped away, making a big show of putting space between them. "That's right, have a laugh at my expense why don’t you," she snapped, nearing the end of her tether.
