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The concrete floor had seen better days, too, brown from worn in dirt. The ceiling was so low Lycaon was nearly bent double. A yellow tub sink sat at one end. In the wall I spied a small staircase leading up and out.
As we walked up the stairs, Lycaon’s heavy tread had the floorboards groaning.
With the others that preceded us, some noise helped mask it.
At the top of the narrow twisting stairs, a long corridor stretched both ways. A flickering bulb hung in the low ceiling, casting shadows and barely visible light.
“Servant’s corridors,” Lycaon muttered. “Which way?”
“Right. We want to edge into the house, but stay out of sight. So we’ll use this servant’s passageway to make our way in?”
The floorboards creaked even more.We slowed down and made our way in. Barely discernible in the wooden wall, on our left a small door that led into the house.
In these stately homes in bygone days, servants were to be out of sight at all times, hence the corridors built into the walls. We’d been lucky to find it, but it was stuffy as hell.
I’d had a brief look at the plans of this home, but honestly being in this small corridor behind the walls, I had no clue where we were.
Stopping suddenly, we heard voices. Someone was barking orders on the other side of the wall.
Lycaon frowned, shooting me a worried stare as we both stood frozen to the spot. I could barely breathe as the voices got closer. All I could smell was musty damp and urine. I didn’t look down, I didn't want to know.
God knows what he could smell.
He gripped my hand, his chest puffing up as if ready to punch anyone who entered the corridor.
Then behind us, footsteps, others were coming. He nodded to his right, slowly we snuck away and the voices inside the room got closer still. Unlocking his clasp from my hand, Lycaon reached easily for the bulb, took it out whichthrew us into darkness.
The small door from the room opened, we braced in the shadows not even daring to breathe.
“Aw shit, who’s taken the bulb? Stinks of piss in here…” The footsteps behind us traipsed closer and the door from the room slammed shut. I let out a breath but neither of us moved for a moment. Then from the room on the other side of the corridor, more footsteps, heavier, in a hurry came towards us.
Grabbing my hand, he led me away as the corridor behind us suddenly filled with the scent of blood and death.
With vampires….
Before I realised, Lycaon had skirted in front of me, scooped me up in his arms, head lowered and ran so fast I couldn’t breathe.
He lunged his shoulder to the left, we crashed through a door and in the blink of an eye, Lycaon had kicked the door shut, lowered me down carefully then had his large hands around a sideboard and was wedging the furniture against the door.
He puffed, looking about. Shouting came from another room, he muttered, “We need to move.”
Scanning the room, there was another doorway at the opposite end from where the voices were coming. Dashing over to it, we both peered through the archway leading into the next room, then ran in, then through that room into a library.
The voices drew closer, and in the walls in the servant’s passageway the sounds of banging as the vampires were trying to shove the sideboard out of the way. Lycaon stopped, my heart was in my throat as he raised his chin, sniffing the air. Turning to the bookcase he whispered, “That went well! Look, here, another passageway.”
“What if it’s the same corridor that we just left?”
“Not the same wall and it’s behind a bookcase. I don’t think you’d have a servant’s corridor hidden behind a bookcase, do you?”
My voice was strained as I answered, “I hope you’re right.”
He felt around the casing, the yelling from the others got closer.Almost booming through my chest, my heart quickened. We were running out of time.
Witches on one side, vampires on the other… Why in hell did I think this was a good idea?
His eyes scanned the floor.
“Look, give me a hand.”
