Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
DARWIN
Two years ago, I babysat the castle for six weeks when Paul got called away. I wasn’t alone then. Axl Van Doren was here. We made sure the castle was safe and secure, and then either hung out or went our separate ways.
We didn’t check on the tower because the tower keepers were there. Triton Seagrave and his husband, Rome Van Doren V. Yes, the fifth Rome Van Doren. I think their official titles are tower keepers, but we refer to them as the Tower Masters.
It was Triton’s post initially. His and his alone.
Then Rome meandered his way in, snooped around, and became a target on the No Face hit list, and somehow became a full-fledged member of the Society of the No Face.
Details are murky. Most likely, they’re murky intentionally.
However, every time I look at Rome and see the burn mark on his neck that tells everyone in the world who knows what they’re looking at that he’s an enemy of No Face, I remember just how deadly this business is.
Conner is lucky. He’s lucky he got out of the tunnels without a permanent burn target on his neck.
Rome’s burn is now covered with his own No Face tattoo, but I can still see it.
I was a kid when it happened eighteen years ago.
Needless to say, I didn’t know a thing about it at the time, despite spending some of the summer here with my parents.
In hindsight, I think it’s really fucking risky allowing children to roam a castle with secrets that can accidentally be stumbled upon. I’m not sure I’d allow my own children here.
Anyway, all this tower talk is to say that, in the absence of the tower keepers, I need to check on the tower.
Especially since the last two intruders were at the wall of the tower when we got to them.
That alone is reason enough not to believe their claim that they were simply on the island looking for their friend.
Once again, it’s too cold out, so I don’t head for the outdoor tunnel that would take me on a shorter, more direct route to the tower.
It’s not a bad idea to look around the tunnels anyway.
While I think our ghostly security system is top-notch and nothing is going to get by them, knowing that Chokecherry has made two separate attempts at infiltrating our island for fuck knows why has me extra cautious and wanting to look at every crevice.
With an oil lantern in hand, I follow the tunnels as they zigzag underground, getting deeper and deeper. The No Face tunnels don’t bother me. I’ve spent so much time in them over the last couple of years that unless I actually see a ghost, there’s nothing down here to bother me.
All that changes when I push the wall away and step into the labyrinth that leads to the tower.
There’s a very distinct change. The walls of the No Face tunnels are stone.
Flat, smooth stone as if the walls were sanded.
The floors are also stone, sometimes cobbled, but usually the same as the walls. Clean. Sterile. Featureless.
The change when stepping into the parallel tunnel is like night and day. First is the fact that it no longer feels like we’re underground. It’s not simply stone everywhere you look. It feels wrong calling it a tunnel. It’s really more of a hall.
There are terracotta tiles under the rich red hall runner. The walls are stacked stone, like in cathedrals. There are stained glass features that are supposed to mimic windows. They’d work if I didn’t know we were underground.
This tunnel isn’t lined with books in the same way the new one Conner accidentally found this summer is.
But there are book stops. Every dozen feet is a short bookshelf, a chair, and a small table with a light.
As if the walk is so long from one end to the other that someone had to create several rest stops along the way.
There’s power down here. I can see the cord tucked into the corner running along the length of the hall. Retro outfitted with electricity but not with unsightly metal tubes running along the wall or destructively retrofitted within the stone walls.
It’s as unobtrusive as it can be.
I know I’m adding to the creepy feeling by only using my oil lamp.
In reality, the No Face tunnels are certainly creepier.
But I’m at home there because of the time I’ve spent in them.
These tunnels, though far more welcoming, have a strange, ghostly presence.
As if residents of the past linger on the chairs, reading books.
They watch me with their candles in hand, raising them higher to get a better look at my face.
I chose this tunnel despite it freaking me out because there’s an entrance close to the shore.
Chokecherry hasn’t parked anywhere near it, and the ghosts haven’t alerted Matty that anyone was around here.
Still, I feel like it’s the responsible thing to do to check the tunnel to the tower that’s most easily accessed from the shore.
This hall opens to a wide room with low ceilings.
The antique furnishings remain. They’re in remarkably good condition for as old as we suspect them to be.
I think, more than anything, it speaks to the fact that these rooms weren’t used regularly.
They were showpieces. They were there to impress visitors.
Which seems counterintuitive, since everything that Triton and Rome have found says that guests weren’t welcome in the tower or the halls leading to the tower. So… status symbols? For each other?
There are far too many questions left about the No Face and this island, which is why Triton and Rome have dedicated their whole lives to digging up secrets.
We want the answers. We want the truth. We want to know who built the tower and why.
We want to know why No Face was randomly shut down shortly after the island castle was finished.
We want to know about all the damn holes dug on the island.
I follow the hall that I know leads to the tower.
This one looks more like the one that Conner was shoved into.
It’s lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
Unlike the new one Conner found, this one is clean.
Triton and Rome keep up with the dust and spiders.
Even the chandeliers overhead are clean.
The light from my lantern flickers off the crystals overhead, keeping my heart racing at every single glimmer that catches from my dancing fire. I should just turn on a damn light. But I’ve seen the electric bills. They’re insane. Completely expected for a place this size, but insane all the same.
My footsteps are a muted thap-thap along the carpet-covered tile. I’m the only thing making noise or movement in this space, but I can’t stop myself from peeking over my shoulder. My nerves insist that someone is there. Someone is following, and I’m sure it’s not someone living.
This tunnel leads directly into the tower that rises through the canopy of the trees and is laden with windows. I set down my lantern on the desk just inside the room by the tunnel entrance and crane my neck to look up to the ceiling far overhead.
As nervous as the tower makes me, this place is incredible. Everything about it. The architecture, the stone detail, the lead-glass windows, the elaborate fireplaces, the hand-carved wood accents, and of course, the thousands of books covering the shelves everywhere you look.
The reality is that this place shouldn’t freak me out the way it does. It’s pure magic. Everything about it is magic.
Yet, I can’t help but feel like there are eyes everywhere. The pages hold trapped spirits. Djinns. Dybbuks. Evil. These innocent pages hold horrors beyond what I’ve participated in and witnessed in the name of No Face.
“Darwin?”
I jump at my name and spin around. My heart is in my damn throat as I stare with wide eyes at a tunnel to my right. One that comes from the castle.
Matty steps into the tower a minute after he called my name, and I sigh in relief. Holy fuck. This place is messing with my head.
He looks around with wide eyes filled with wonder. “Wow,” he murmurs, and I know he isn’t supposed to be here.
“Matty,” I say, trying to contain my anxiety. “What’re you doing here?”
He meets my eye and smiles. “They said you were alone and nervous.”
“You can’t be here, Matty,” I murmur as if someone will hear me.
His smile drops, and I see fear spark to life in his eyes. They flicker around, his shoulders tense. I feel like shit for making him scared.
Crossing the space between us, I pull him into my arms. “Shh. I’m sorry. I just mean, you’re not supposed to be in the tower. This is… This is No Face property. Not part of the castle. Not the boat club.”
“Oh,” he says, voice quiet. “Don’t tell them.”
“I won’t,” I promise, hugging him tightly. “Don’t you ever repeat being here or what you’ve seen. To no one—including Liam and Zephyr. Can you do that?”
“Yes, but why? You don’t trust them?”
I don’t answer for a minute as I allow my eyes to wander, waiting for someone to step out from behind a bookshelf.
“I trust them, and I don’t think they’d tell anyone you were here, but accidents happen, right?
They wouldn’t say something intentionally, but what if someone overhears them?
Someone they didn’t know was there? The fewer people who know you’re here, the safer. ”
“Darwin,” he says, amused. He pulls back to look at me, meeting my eyes. “You know they tell me everything, right? I’ll know ahead of time if someone wants to kill me.”
My heart nearly lodges in my fucking throat. How the hell can he talk so nonchalantly about his own hypothetical murder? I have to remind myself he’s been living with a lot of horrors for a long time.
Without meaning to, I brush my thumb across his cheek. His smile softens, and he leans into my touch. “They protect you. Don’t they?”
Matty nods. “Kinda. I think they like that they can be heard. They’ve lived here for so long, and they’re practically anonymous. Imaginary friends. Now they have a voice, even if I’m the only one who can hear them.”
“You’re their voice.”
He hums. “I suppose so.” His hands smooth up my stomach and chest, rounding over my shoulders and then my neck. He steps back into me, but this hug feels far more intimate. I swallow as I stare into his dark eyes. “Do you like me, Darwin?”
I roll my eyes. “What kind of question is that? Yes, of course, I like you.”
His amusement returns, and when he brings his hips flush to mine, I blush. Matty leans in closer, his mouth a breath from mine. “Do. You. Like. Me?”
“That feels like a dangerous question,” I mutter.
“One you’re avoiding.”
“I am,” I agree. “Why are you asking me?”
“I’ve had my dick inside you. I’ve sucked your nipples. I think you can answer this question.”
He grins when I narrow my eyes. “Why are you asking?” I repeat.
“I like you,” he says, shrugging. “I like Zeph too.”
“What about Liam?”
“I love Liam.”
“I’m glad this is making complete sense.”
Matty grins. I hold my breath when his lips brush against mine. Just a soft, feathery touch. It doesn’t fail to steal my breath, though. “Sex is sex. Liam and I have always been open to trying different things with other people.”
“Way to make what we did feel special,” I mutter.
He grins. “It is because I like you. Remember? I just said that. But that’s the thing.
Sex is sex. Liam doesn’t think of it as anything else.
It’s something that brought us together when we were teenagers at an orgy with college guys.
Don’t give me a lecture on our ages—adults are stupid to think that their kids aren’t going to do the same exact shit they did as teenagers.
My point is, sex isn’t…” His voice trails off, and I can see that he’s trying to find the words.
He laughs. “I’ve never had this conversation out loud.
I’m not sure what I’m trying to say since I was going to say that it’s not part of our relationship, but that sounds inaccurate. ”
“You’re saying that sex isn’t always part of your romantic relationship? Right?”
“Oh, that’s better. It doesn’t equate to a romantic relationship. Sex can just be sex. It can be separate. Which is how we’ve always treated it when we play with other people.”
“Okay. We were playing the other day. That’s what you’re saying.”
Matty huffs. “You’re being so obtuse. No. I’m saying that I. Like. You. I don’t want it to just be playing, but I need to know where you are so I can talk to Liam. There’s no point in talking to Liam if you don’t feel the same way, is there?”
“I feel it’s important to tell you I’m not Liam’s biggest fan.”
His eyebrows knit together. “Why?” he asks, slightly horrified.
“Because he’s a dick for forcing you into this situation and then abandoning you here, alone, trapped in the fucking tunnels of the very place that holds horrors for you, while he carries on with his life as if nothing happened.”
I’m a little surprised when he smiles. “You think that’s what he does, huh?”
“Isn’t it?”
“It’s not as straightforward as that, no.
That’s probably what you see and… I suppose in the most basic of terms, it’s accurate.
But he’s not a bad person, Darwin. He lives with the guilt of pushing me into this mess like it’s a second skin.
His only skin. His guilt runs his life. His mother called me over the summer.
Despite living a couple blocks from her, Liam hasn’t seen his family since I was sentenced to spend my life on this island because he can’t face telling someone what he did.
He doesn’t talk to anyone at all. He doesn’t see his friends.
He insists on working remotely so he doesn’t even have to face his coworkers.
He knows he cost me my life, Darwin. He hates himself more than you can ever understand. He doesn’t need you to hate him, too.”
I’m weirdly affected by his words. Unbidden tears touch my eyes, and a lump forms in my throat. “That’s not what I see.”
“Of course, it’s not. Despite what everyone claims, misery doesn’t always love company. He’d rather punish himself on his own because it hurts him far more than anyone else ever could.”
I sigh and rest my forehead against his. “You might have humanized him a little more, but that doesn’t change the fact that he abandons you for months at a time.”
“It doesn’t,” he agrees. “You’re right.”
Well… okay, then.
“Now answer me, Darwin.”
I sigh again and close my eyes. “Yeah, Matty. I do. I like you a lot.”
He grins. “Oh, good. I don’t want a broken heart.”
I huff.