Elsbeth #3
“I’ll be seeing you again soon.” I mock the sentient picture with a mimed flick of a lighter and let a small bit of magic mimic a spark on the tip of my thumb. It’s all I can manifest, but my ego takes it as a win.
I leave the mangy fox and Bridget to their deathwatch and move on to the last bedroom.
A huge bed is the center focus. The sheets are a mess and the walls are covered in frames, but otherwise the place is tidy.
With no bookshelf in sight, there’s no reason for me to go inside, but one of the paintings catches my eye.
I can’t quite see it at this angle, but when I try to cross the threshold, an invisible force stops me.
Though the door was open, the sigil he’s etched with chalk on the wood is powerful enough to block my entry.
I could unlock it, but don’t know how to replace it.
Alric’s magic still nudges against my fingertips as if begging for the challenge.
Instead of using the last bit of magic I have—even if the idea of Alric’s precious gift leaving my system sounds like a relief—I move on to the stairs.
Each step creaks on my way down. The old wood is worn from generations of previous residents.
Hard notches dot the planks that look like they’ve been refinished a couple times but still harbor the memories of lives from days long gone.
When I get to the bottom, I’m in a short hallway that splits.
To my right, I can see kitchen appliances, and to the left, darkness.
I decide to check the kitchen first. If I’m going to be running around this massive house for hours, I need something in my stomach.
My thoughts drift back up to the meal sitting at the end of my bed.
Realistically, I know Fox could have already cleaned up any ingredients that he could use to harm me, but I still scan the countertop.
There’s a lone unwrapped burrito left on a plate next to the stove, where a pan with potatoes, meat, and cheese sits.
The only bottles and jars left out are seasonings and salsa.
I pick a drawer to open and am blessed with cutlery.
Two large carving knives sit side by side next to a tray of spoons, forks, and butter knives.
The only place I have to hide one of them is in the waistband of my panties, and it looks too heavy for the flimsy elastic of my thong.
I take it in my palm and weigh my options.
On one hand, the only one who has eluded to hurting me is Thorne.
If I take it and they realize, that might change.
There’s also a very good chance that I’ll end up dropping it and slicing my own skin open.
Ultimately, I put it back where I found it and grab a fork to shovel a few delectable bites from the pan into my mouth before moving on.
The kitchen is bright and open because it’s attached to a solarium.
A wall of tall windows and double doors open up into a beautifully flourishing indoor garden.
Large pots overflow with herbs, flowers, and plants that I can recognize for protection and tonic making.
Most have healing properties, but there are a few that could be used to end someone’s life with enough persistence.
Unlike the rooms upstairs, this space is warm and inviting.
The white wicker chairs that are placed around a small wooden table in the middle of the floor have yellow cushions with bright pink and orange flowers all over them.
A little more feminine than my liking, but I could see myself sitting out here for hours, talking to the plants and spirits that undoubtedly roam the grounds.
A small promise that if I don’t survive, my soul will have a place to rest between haunting these men forever.
Moving on to the dark hallway, I see there are closed doors on either side, but the one at the end is wide open.
I move toward it on the balls of my feet, trying to not make a sound, but the floorboards are just as traitorous as the steps.
Halfway, a loud squeak under my left foot makes me pause.
The house is still silent. There’s no sign of someone roaming around upstairs, which means that Fox is in the room I’m headed toward or lying in wait somewhere I can’t see.
I press on, the doorway leading into a sharp left turn into another hall and a glass door.
Soft blue and white ripples of light dance on the wall opposite it, and the smell of chlorine gets stronger the closer I get.
Sliding open the fogged-up glass, I’m faced with decorative stone tiles surrounding a large indoor swimming pool at the center of the wood and glass room.
The ceiling is vaulted with large wood beams, mimicking the dark limbs of the trees and shrubs outside the walls of glass. The blanket of gray clouds in the distance makes the warm glow feel more like gas lamps than the three chandeliers hovering above.
“Come down for a swim?” A voice behind me zips up my spine.
I spin around to find Asher in a pair of tight trunks and nothing else.