Андреа Кремер - Nightshade

Yes. My limbs were shaking. What do you think killed the spider?

The only other scent was the lone wolf, Ren replied. I’m guessing it’s the same one your group and Dax’s tracked on the slope. It’s hard to believe it could have taken Logan’s pet out by itself—that wolf must be some fighter.

I thought of Shay wielding the ice axes, about how much I’d admired his courage, his skill as a warrior.

I’m only trying to keep you safe, Calla. Ren licked my muzzle. Don’t take unnecessary risks. You’re too important for that. I need you by my side. I’m sorry if I hurt you.

You didn’t. I let him nuzzle me despite my humiliation, relieved that he didn’t press the issue further.

Without another word he darted into the forest, leaving me alone in the meadow. When I closed my eyes, I saw Shay, felt his lips on my arm, those first sparks of desire when he touched me. I raised my muzzle, wanting to howl my frustration, hating the silence forced upon me. The Keepers would be hunting for Haldis’s thieves soon. What would they do then?

TWENTY-SIX

I MADE IT HALFWAY TO THE STONE STEPS OF Rowan Estate before terror locked me in place. Shay had to drag me the rest of the way.

“I’ve changed my mind.” My feet skidded along the paving stones.

“Too late.” He gritted his teeth and kept pulling.

“I never should have turned you,” I said. “You wouldn’t be able to drag me anywhere.”

“You’re not exactly making it easy.” He strained to get me another foot forward. “You owe me, remember? You abandoned me at the bar last week. I think Ren spent the rest of the night planning the order in which he was going to break every bone in my body.”

“He probably was.”

“Exactly. You’re lucky I’m even here to give you a tour of the place.”

“You have my eternal gratitude for the offer. I’m sure it’s a lovely house.” I squirmed in his arms. “Now let go of me.”

“Come on, Cal, go up the steps. You agreed to this. Are you really going to make me carry you inside?”

I gazed at the solid ebony double doors. “Maybe.”

“If you do, I’ll fling you over my shoulder caveman style.” He grinned. “It won’t be pretty.”

My eyes narrowed. “You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

“Wanna find out?”

I twisted out of his grasp, scurrying up the stairs. Shay drew an enormous brass key from his jacket. My gaze traveled over the face of the mansion while he unlocked the door.

The imposing manor cut a stark outline against the sky, its facade the lonely color of fog. The building stretched out for an incredible length to either side of the main entrance. Tall, mullioned windows lined each of the three floors. The gables were filled with stone creatures: coiled snakes, rearing horses, shrieking griffins, and roaring chimeras. Winged gargoyles crouched along the roof, as if prepared to spring from its eaves.

“Are you coming?” Shay held the door open.

I pulled my eyes from the statues, took a deep breath, and walked into the darkness of the mansion. Once inside, I gasped. The doors opened into an enormous hall. A balcony encircled the broad space. Two marble staircases rose in opposite directions along the far wall. An elaborate crystal chandelier was suspended from the ceiling. Its prisms caught the sunlight from the windows, throwing infinite rainbows along the stone floor. Though devoid of furniture, the room was ringed with art that ranged from exquisite porcelain vases that reached to my waist to full suits of armor grasping fierce halberds and wicked maces in their gauntlets.

“Like I said.” Shay came up beside me. “Opulent.” His voice bounced off the walls.

I nodded.

“The library is through those doors straight ahead on the second level,” he continued. “The stairs lead to the east and west wings of the house. Do you want to get started on the research right away? Or do you want a tour?”

“I want to make sure it’s actually okay for us to be here,” I muttered.

“The tour, then,” he said, heading for the stairs on the right. “I live in the east wing.”

I cast glances over my shoulder as I followed him. Eerie silence shrouded the house; the strikes of our footsteps on the stone floor echoed around us.

“How do you get used to this?” I realized I was whispering.

“I haven’t really.” He shrugged. “Being alone all the time is pretty weird.”

“I can’t believe how quiet it is.”

“Sometimes I blast music from my room and open the door so it fills up the halls,” he said. “It helps a little.”

We turned down a long corridor. Floor-to-ceiling portraits of life-sized figures hung from the walls at regularly spaced intervals. I glanced at one and froze. A man was suspended in a black void, face contorted by agony, his tormentors obscured by the dark hues of the canvas. I looked at the painting on the opposite wall. It was similar, but featured a woman.

“Can we walk faster?” I muttered.

“Sorry,” Shay said. “I should have warned you about the paintings. Bosque’s taste in art tends toward the morbid.”

“No kidding.” I kept my eyes on the floor as we walked forward. “What are they anyway?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I thought they might be portraits of the martyrs, but they don’t have labels, and the forms of torment don’t correspond with those of any of the Christian martyrs I know about.”

“So he just likes pictures of people suffering?”

“Maybe,” he replied. “Lots of art is about suffering and death, though. Bosque’s paintings aren’t any different than stuff you see in museums.”

“I guess.”

He turned sharply to the right and I hurried after him down a side hall. When I came around the next corner, I almost collided with a man. A beautiful man with broad, leathery wings. I shouted in surprise, dropping to the floor as I shifted forms, baring my fangs.

“What is it, Cal?” Shay frowned, seemingly oblivious to the menace a few feet from where he stood.

I stalked past him, eyeing the tall winged creature that held a spear aloft in one hand, its point aimed straight at us. The incubus stood immobile, paused mid-action, ready to release its weapon.

“It’s a statue.” Shay laughed. “You’re growling at a sculpture.”

I inched forward, sniffing the marble foot of the incubus. Shay was still laughing when I shifted forms and glared at him.

“You could have warned me that there were sculptures of incubi in the house.”

“There are tons of sculptures in this house. I don’t think you can go more than fifty feet without running into one. There are even more in the gardens.”

“Are they all like this one?” I eyed the statue.

“Lots of them,” he said. “Some of them are winged women, not men, but all of them have weapons like this one. Some of them are animals—well, mythological creatures, not real animals.”

I shuddered.

“Why did it scare you?” he said. “I thought you were worried about wraiths.”

“There are other things to worry about besides wraiths,” I murmured.

“Are you saying that this statue is modeled on something real?” He reached out, touching the tip of the incubus’s wing.

“Yes.”

He jerked his hand back. “Damn.”

“So where are we going on this tour anyway?” I asked, wanting to get away from the statue.

“I thought I’d show you my room.” He smiled shyly. “It’s at the end of this hallway.”

He led me down the hall, pausing in front of the last door on the right.

“Well?” I waited for him to open the door.

“I was just trying to remember the last time I cleaned my room,” he said.

“Bosque’s staff doesn’t do that for you?” I poked him in the side and grinned.