Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Hadrian had crossed the threshold and he was inside the house.
Red flags popped up like gophers. The same image replayed in rapid succession: his toothy, vicious grin, the glint of hallway light on the curves of his horns, and his body dissipating into the woodwork.
This couldn’t be happening—he couldn’t be in the house yet.
That wasn’t part of the plan. It ruined my leverage.
Emma wasn’t even home yet.
“Hadrian.” I hurried after him and tripped through the door juncture. Bits of sheetrock scattered, the tarp crackling underfoot. The hall was empty.
If I found him, what would I do? Stuff him back in the closet like a snow jacket? Half our deal, gone, just like that. Clearly, whatever had been keeping him inside that closet was broken.
I ran to my bedroom first, turning lights on as I went. Dolls loomed from the corner of the room, every set of beady eyes following me as I bent to check under the bed. I threw open the closet. I looked behind the door. No Hadrian.
How did such a large creature vanish into thin air?
“Hadrian.” In a frenzy, I went room by room, opening doors, closets, wardrobes, and bathrooms. I checked both guest rooms that Emma wasn’t using, the other hallway closet, under every bed, behind every dresser, and in every wardrobe.
By the time I made it to Aunt Cadence’s bedroom, my face was nearly purple, my shirt stuck to my body, and I struggled to grab the doorknob.
“This isn’t funny!” I shouted into the empty house.
As soon as I managed to open the door, I hit my knees to check under the bed.
Nothing but dust bunnies. Something told me not to look in the mirror when I searched her ensuite bathroom.
I kept my breathing shallow and my eyes quick—tried to ignore the smell of lavender and citrus or how a set of clothes was still folded on top of her dresser.
The only room left was Emma’s.
I shut Aunt Cadence’s room tight behind me. Just a quick peek. I wasn’t going through Emma’s things—I wasn’t invading her privacy. Not really. I was protecting her from this—this—decision I’d made.
Hesitant, I opened the door, just a crack. A wayward T-shirt hung off the desk, barely visible.
Careful, I leaned in, using my shoulders to edge the door open farther.
A shadow jerked under the bed.
My jaw clenched. “Hadrian?”
A steady, lazy drip of water echoed from her bathroom. I wavered. Eyed her desk, which sat to my left. I reached for the chair back and used it to lean on when the door swung open. As if I might hit Hadrian with it if he came out from under the bed.
Or, by some chance, if it wasn’t Hadrian.
“You’re acting like a child. What am I supposed to do if Emma comes home and sees me with every light on in the house?” I muttered.
“I do not know this Emma you speak of.”
“My sister.”
A long pause.
“Maybe if you turned the lights back off, I would not have to hide under this monstrosity,” came the grizzled snarl.
I pictured a vampire, evaporating in the sun. “Does it hurt?”
A growl. “No, it feels like … resistance.”
To humor him, I flipped the bedroom switch. The room plunged into darkness. Emma’s gauzy, cobweb-like curtains hung open, drifting with a breeze. I had the sudden urge to shut each one, but that would involve walking closer to the bed. Knowing my luck, he’d grab my ankle for the fun of it.
“Are you happy now?”
A grunt. “Quite.” With care, an arm snaked out first. Hadrian’s body moved unnaturally, awkward bent joints, his chest pressed close to the floor. I watched two droplets of blood land on the floor, but as soon as his foot passed over them, they vanished, as if they never were.
He was bleeding again?
“What do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be in—that.” I took a step back and pointed down the hall.
“Perusing my house. So kind of you to allow me inside so soon,” he chuffed. “Why? Does it unsettle you, thinking I’m meddling in your things? I have to admit, much time has passed. It looks nothing as I left it.” His forked tongue slid over his teeth.
I tried to stifle the surge of panic those words induced. I broke a seal. As if there were things he still wasn’t telling me.
“My house, not yours. You’re here because I let you in,” I corrected. I widened my stance, as if that would make me more intimidating.
“A mere technicality.” He drew himself upright, both of his knees popped, and he rolled his head as if to loosen his shoulders.
The only way to keep him in check was to keep him under my thumb. He spoke with confidence—an air of certainty that came from high social standing or rank. Just like Ivan; though Ivan’s social standing was propelled by his parents’, and Hadrian’s felt sturdier. Older.
If I wanted to play his game, I would need to keep up.
“You’re hiding in a woman’s bedroom.” I kept my words breezy. “Last I checked, creatures with horns didn’t hide under beds if they had the leg up, Hadrian. You need me. And if you decide to blow it, like you’re doing right now, I won’t help you. At all.”
He smirked. “You mean to tell me this isn’t your bedroom? Where you tremble in fear every night of what might be hiding in your closet?”
My jaw worked. “This is Emma’s bedroom.”
“Ah, the sister. Yes, I heard you. Are you jealous? Would you rather me hide in yours?” For the first time, he grinned, and it was almost … playful.
“I would rather you go back to your closet.” I motioned down the hall again.
“I don’t have time to worry about you floating around like a wraith.
It’s late, and if I’m being honest, I have other things to worry about”—like how I was going to pull everything out of the library to start renovating this week since the kitchen was nearly finished—“while I think about this little issue I have on my hands now.”
“I am a small issue to you.” A dark, delicate chuckle.
He leaned in. So close that I caught a whiff of ash and a hint of earth. A flash of hot summer days and sweat-slicked skin and tunic fabric stuck to a chest came to mind.
My breath shuddered.
“Do I look to be a small issue to you?”
“I’m tired, and if Emma sees you—if anyone sees you—I swear on my life—” I stopped myself before I said something irrational. Threatening him would only go so far and make me sound immature.
I cupped my face in my hands and took a deep breath. “So, please. Go back to your closet.”
A rumble came from his chest. “You cannot make me go back there, dearest. You have two options. You turn a blind eye to me wandering my own home, or this little agreement—which you already said yes to—is over. Unless your word is nothing to stand by? You promised to help me. Otherwise …” He flicked his wrist, gesturing to the hall behind me. “What’s yours is mine, yes?”
I rolled my lips together. “A promise is a promise. On both ends,” I emphasized.
I wasn’t going to win this fight. Still, the thought of him around the house made my skin prickle. What would he see or hear or do? Would the activity in the house get worse?
Or, would it be like having a cat? I would only see him when he needed something? What would he do now that he had freedom to roam? Did that mean now that he was out here, Haddy would follow? Would his memories trail after him, or would whatever was inside that room trickle in, too, like a disease?
I pushed the thoughts away. I couldn’t stuff him back inside if I tried. But that slipping control, that need for a plan, made my hands clench.
Finally, I managed, “Just make sure you stay out of the way when Sayer and Emma are here. If they can even see you.” Emma would probably break out an EMF reader and a Ouija board if she spotted him.
She’d already tried to persuade me into letting her use the board when the book nook turned on and off by itself.
If she saw so much as a curtain move the wrong way, there would be no stopping her.
He snorted. “I do not think that will be an issue. I already have difficulty keeping my human face during the day. I doubt you’ll see much of me until the night.”
My head fell against Emma’s doorjamb. I let my eyes close. Shoved the ball building in my throat farther and farther down. “What am I even looking for? To break this—what did you call it? A seal?”
I opened my eyes when he didn’t answer. He slouched a bit, close to the darkest corner of the room—his torso curved as if in protection of his open chest. “You know as much as I.”
I balked. “You don’t know? You said—”
“I never said I knew.” A smug head tilt. “You assumed. So, if you want to move things along, I suggest you start digging.”
This made me stiffen. “Are you threatening me?” Because it sounded like he wanted to make Harthwait unwelcoming.
“Not a threat. A polite nudge.”
A thought, barely a seed, sprouted into a seedling.
I wanted to reach out and strangle him, demand he spill every ounce of detail he knew, every single seemingly unimportant fact about himself—where he was born, where he came from, when he lived, when he died, what he’d done—but I stopped myself.
There were other ways of gathering information.
Other places I hadn’t even dared sort through yet.
If Aunt Cadence had gone to such lengths to keep me away from the house, she must have known. I thought of the attic: Her boxes upon boxes of collectibles and antiques would be a good place to start. But what would I be looking for?
I couldn’t imagine her leaving me the house knowing there was a creature like him within it. But then, a slight, razor-sharp shred of doubt crept in. What if she hadn’t known? Or what if she had, and she had only been trying to cover something up before anyone found out?
I didn’t realize I had been staring at him, silently brewing, until he stood just inside the doorway. He leaned forward, as if to tell me a secret. “So, now do I have a deal?”
“Will you tell me what you know?”