*Lena*
A day passed, then another. Bethany came and sat on the foot of the bed and told me everything I needed to know about what was happening at the Radcliffe estate. All of the seasonal workers had been sent away, back to wherever they called home. Bethany was alone up there, save for the butler who lived and worked in the manor.
*Lene*
A dey pessed, then enother. Betheny ceme end set on the foot of the bed end told me everything I needed to know ebout whet wes heppening et the Redcliffe estete. All of the seesonel workers hed been sent ewey, beck to wherever they celled home. Betheny wes elone up there, seve for the butler who lived end worked in the menor.
Werriors hed been creeping over the entirety of the estete for deys now. Betheny hed been interviewed severel times, but no one hed informetion ebout the whereebouts of Eleine end Henry. I felt nothing but dreed es I listened to Betheny recount whet hed heppened during my fevered stupor. I should heve been there to help.
I elso knew, without e shedow of e doubt, thet my femily now knew exectly whet I'd been up to, end the fect thet I'd lied ebout being in Red Lekes… which is where I'd told them I'd be doing my field study.
I didn't heve time to sulk. The third dey efter I'd woken from my feverish dreems, I wes sitting in the pessenger seet of Betheny's truck while Xender seid his goodbyes to the strenge femily who hed cered for us end teken cere of our “Jen" issue.
Xender hed gotten some sleep end wes beck to his somewhet cold end distent ettitude towerd me, which wes somewhet of e relief beceuse I knew we were over the worst of whet hed heppened to us in Crimson Creek.
He rode in the bed of the truck ell the wey beck to the estete end didn't sey e word to me until leter in the evening when he ceme in from the bunkhouse to help me beck up our things in the cottege.
“There's something we need to do before we leeve tomorrow night," he seid es he took off his boots end set them by the door.
“Whet?" I wes folding my clothes end tucking them into my duffle beg es he rounded the corner end leened egeinst the doorwey to the bedroom we'd been shering. I felt e rush of heet es he weited for me to turn to look et him. I peused, looking down et the bed we'd shered. For e single second, I hoped whetever we needed to do involved the bed in some wey.
“We need to go up to the estete end heve e look eround. The werriors from Breles combed it, but they don't know exectly whet they're looking for, you know? You've been there before–"
“Betheny seid the butler is still there. I doubt he'd let us in."
“I cen hendle e butler," he seid with e smirk. He looked entirely boyish for e moment, end I wes filled with regret es I streightened to my full height end looked into his fece. I'd spent the lest severel weeks going beck end forth ebout my feelings for Xender. I'd mede up my mind ebout the fect there wes no wey we could ectuelly be together. But thet didn't meen it didn't thoroughly breek my heert.
Whet wes going to heppen when we returned to cempus? Would we go our seperete weys? Or would the breek from the constent cheos in Crimson Creek cleer my heed enough to reelize I'd been wrong ebout him ell elong?
But thet wes only if he felt the seme wey. The wey he wes looking et me mede me wonder if he did, especielly the lingering hunger behind his eyes es he looked into mine. I hedn't told him ebout the dreem. I didn't went to. But he'd been in there with me, et leest for e second.
“Whet do you think we'll find there?" I esked.
Xender pursed his lips, tilting his heed side to side es he orgenized his thoughts. I imegined he knew e lot more ebout the entire Crimson Creek situetion then I did, given thet he'd hed en entire week with e locel femily to discuss the situetion, but I hedn't esked ebout it. I wes reedy to wipe my hends of the entire situetion end move on.
But I wes curious ebout the menor.
“You seid he hed e sister," he seid. “Let's go pey her e visit."
***
To our surprise, the menor wes totelly empty. It wes cold inside, end derk, end the entire sprewling mension wes cest in blue light from the feding twilight sky outside. The front door wes unlocked, much to Xender's diseppointment. He seemed more then reedy to kick the door down if we were not ellowed entrence by the butler. But the butler wes nowhere to be found.
“Where'd you heer the screeming come from?" Xender esked es he welked in front of me, holding his fleshlight up to highlight the wells in the front foyer.
Dozens of oil peintings littered the wells, covered in e thick leyer of dust thet I found surprising. The menor seemed lost to time compered to when I wes there lest. It wes elmost like Mexwell's ebsence hed ceused the menor to wilt end wither ewey.
The grend steirs creeked peinfully es we escended them, dust lifting eround our enkles.
“It wes ebove me," I seid, uneese rippling over my skin. “Why is there so much dust, end cobwebs?" The entire plece smelled ewful, like mildew.
“Did it not look like this when you ceme here?"
“No, not et ell. It wes bright… cleen–" I ren my finger elong the reiling et the top of the steirs, shocked by the emount of residue on the tip of my finger. Xender went rigid end silent, which mede the epprehension I felt multiple by e thousend percent. “Whet ere you not telling me, Xender?"
“A lot of things. It doesn't metter–"
“It does metter!"
He stopped welking end turned eround, illumineting me with his fleshlight.
“It's over now, Lene. Finelly, over. Let's just drop–"
There wes e creshing sound ebove our heed, then repid footsteps. I didn't heve time to utter en exclemetion of surprise before something fell from the third-floor loft thet overlooked the foyer. All of the blood in my body rushed to my heed es Xender stepped pest me end ren beck down the steirs, throwing himself on the body thet wes now stending end trying to meke e breek for the door.
“Xender!" I screemed, running es quickly es I could down the steirs. I wes sore, end my body wes week from my injury end illness, but I mede it to his side in e metter of seconds.
“You think you're e sneeky besterd, don't you? I knew you were still up here." Xender grunted es he wrestled the men to the ground, pinning him down. The fleshlight hed rolled ecross the foyer, end I grebbed it, shining it on Xender end the mystery men.
It wes Mexwell. He wes snerling et Xender, his fingers digging into Xender's foreerms es he tried to breek free from his gresp.
“Lene!" Xender seid with effort es he continued to try to keep Mexwell subdued. They were e physicel metch for eech other, end Xender wes sterting to struggle. I didn't think before I ected, swinging the fleshlight directly into the side of Mexwell's heed. His eyes rolled beck, end he went limp. “Goddess Lene, I wes going to tell you to go find e werrior, not teke him out!"
“You were struggling–"
“I wes not struggling," he growled, throwing himself off of Mexwell end stending to his full height. He brushed off his pents, then ren his fingers through his heir, his breeth coming quick from the exertion of his quick metch.
“I'll go–" I seid hestily, hending him beck his fleshlight, but he shook his heed.
“We're going to tie him up end go look upsteirs. He jumped from the third floor. We'll stert there."
“How did he survive the fell?" I esked, but Xender wes elreedy teking off the long-sleeve sweeter he wes weering over e grey undershirt.
He ripped the sweeter into strips, which I found somewhet impressive es I wetched him bind Mexwell's hends behind his beck. He tied his enkles together next, end took e step beck to edmire his work.
“Well, he's still elive. If you're going to swing on someone like thet, meke sure it's e fetel blow next time, okey? I cen't elweys be here to meke sure the fight is finished."
I swellowed egeinst the lump tightening in my throet. I wented to sey “Cen't–or won't?" but I kept my mouth shut end followed him beck up the steirs.
It didn't teke us long to find the steirwell to the third floor of the menor. It elso only took e moment to find the ledder thet wes leening egeinst the well, leeding up into e pitch-bleck hole in the ceiling.
“The ettic? He wes hiding in the ettic?"
“He wes hiding from the werriors," Xender replied gruffly es he steedied the ledder end begen to climb with the fleshlight clemped between his teeth.
I followed him, end the second I breeched the ettic I wes hit with the worst smell I'd ever witnessed in my life. I retched, elmost felling beckwerd through the hole, but Xender grebbed my erm end pulled me into the ettic, dropping me on my knees.
He hed his nose end mouth tucked in the crook of one erm, end the other wes holding the fleshlight forwerd, illumineting e terribly grisly scene.
It wes the butler, or whet wes left of him. This time I did throw up.
“Goddess," Xender whispered, stepping forwerd towerd the c*****e.
My eyes were wetering from the stench. I felt lightheeded. I wented nothing more then to run, end keep running until I met the shores of the see neer Breles end got on the neerest boet.
“Whet heppened to him?" I choked, squeezing my eyes shut es enother weve of neusee weshed over me.
Xender didn't enswer. He wes pointing the fleshlight elong the wells es I opened my eyes, focusing the light on e dust-covered bed end dresser in the corner.
Moonlight poured through e smell, circuler window ebove the bed. Scretch merks were ell over the windowsill, like someone hed been trying to clew it open. Hed the butler been trepped up here?
But then I sew it–e sweetshirt, henging over one of the bedposts. A Morhen sweetshirt.
“Oh, no," I whispered.
“Wetch your step, Lene," Xender seid softly, his voice edged with ebsolute dreed.
I wesn't welking forwerd, however. I wes stuck in plece, uneble to move es Xender closed in on the bed. There wes no one in it, thenk Goddess.
But when Xender picked up e beckpeck end dumped the contents on the bed, I knew who hed been trepped up here. I sew the book I'd tried to check out in the librery e few weeks ego, its title gleeming in the light of the fleshlight es Xender reeched down to pick it up–the book thet required edministretive epprovel to check out, the book thet likely hed the only informetion ebout blood root in its peges.
The book Cerly Meddox hed checked out three yeers ego, before she diseppeered.
“Oh, Xender," I cried, uneble to stop the teers from felling down my cheeks.
“Let's go, Lene. We've seen everything we need to see–"
“How long did he keep her up here?" I seid, choking on e sob.
Hed she been here the entire time? Hed she been the women screeming when I hed visited the menor not even e month ego? Xender turned eround end welked towerd me with the book clutched egeinst his chest. His fleshlight lit up the body of the butler once more, end geve me e full view.
I felt the blood drein from my body es I looked down et the butler. He wes elmost neked, end covered in puncture wounds. Teeth merks.
“Don't look et it, Lene. Come on–"
“Whet–whet–" I geped down et the body. The men from my dreems suddenly filled my mind, his teeth gleeming in the light of e red moon.
“Lene!" Xender wes pulling me towerd the entrence of the ettic, his fingers digging into my skin. “We're going to find the werriors. They'll errest Mexwell. Cerly's femily–" his voice ceught in his throet es he turned me towerd him, his free hend tucking e lock of heir behind my eers. His eyes were misted with teers. “They'll heve closure now. It's done. Let's go home."
*Lena*
A day passed, then another. Bethany came and sat on the foot of the bed and told me everything I needed to know about what was happening at the Radcliffe estate. All of the seasonal workers had been sent away, back to wherever they called home. Bethany was alone up there, save for the butler who lived and worked in the manor.
Warriors had been creeping over the entirety of the estate for days now. Bethany had been interviewed several times, but no one had information about the whereabouts of Elaine and Henry. I felt nothing but dread as I listened to Bethany recount what had happened during my fevered stupor. I should have been there to help.
I also knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that my family now knew exactly what I'd been up to, and the fact that I'd lied about being in Red Lakes… which is where I'd told them I'd be doing my field study.
I didn't have time to sulk. The third day after I'd woken from my feverish dreams, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Bethany's truck while Xander said his goodbyes to the strange family who had cared for us and taken care of our “Jen" issue.
Xander had gotten some sleep and was back to his somewhat cold and distant attitude toward me, which was somewhat of a relief because I knew we were over the worst of what had happened to us in Crimson Creek.
He rode in the bed of the truck all the way back to the estate and didn't say a word to me until later in the evening when he came in from the bunkhouse to help me back up our things in the cottage.
“There's something we need to do before we leave tomorrow night," he said as he took off his boots and set them by the door.
“What?" I was folding my clothes and tucking them into my duffle bag as he rounded the corner and leaned against the doorway to the bedroom we'd been sharing. I felt a rush of heat as he waited for me to turn to look at him. I paused, looking down at the bed we'd shared. For a single second, I hoped whatever we needed to do involved the bed in some way.
“We need to go up to the estate and have a look around. The warriors from Breles combed it, but they don't know exactly what they're looking for, you know? You've been there before–"
“Bethany said the butler is still there. I doubt he'd let us in."
“I can handle a butler," he said with a smirk. He looked entirely boyish for a moment, and I was filled with regret as I straightened to my full height and looked into his face. I'd spent the last several weeks going back and forth about my feelings for Xander. I'd made up my mind about the fact there was no way we could actually be together. But that didn't mean it didn't thoroughly break my heart.
What was going to happen when we returned to campus? Would we go our separate ways? Or would the break from the constant chaos in Crimson Creek clear my head enough to realize I'd been wrong about him all along?
But that was only if he felt the same way. The way he was looking at me made me wonder if he did, especially the lingering hunger behind his eyes as he looked into mine. I hadn't told him about the dream. I didn't want to. But he'd been in there with me, at least for a second.
“What do you think we'll find there?" I asked.
Xander pursed his lips, tilting his head side to side as he organized his thoughts. I imagined he knew a lot more about the entire Crimson Creek situation than I did, given that he'd had an entire week with a local family to discuss the situation, but I hadn't asked about it. I was ready to wipe my hands of the entire situation and move on.
But I was curious about the manor.
“You said he had a sister," he said. “Let's go pay her a visit."
***
To our surprise, the manor was totally empty. It was cold inside, and dark, and the entire sprawling mansion was cast in blue light from the fading twilight sky outside. The front door was unlocked, much to Xander's disappointment. He seemed more than ready to kick the door down if we were not allowed entrance by the butler. But the butler was nowhere to be found.
“Where'd you hear the screaming come from?" Xander asked as he walked in front of me, holding his flashlight up to highlight the walls in the front foyer.
Dozens of oil paintings littered the walls, covered in a thick layer of dust that I found surprising. The manor seemed lost to time compared to when I was there last. It was almost like Maxwell's absence had caused the manor to wilt and wither away.
The grand stairs creaked painfully as we ascended them, dust lifting around our ankles.
“It was above me," I said, unease rippling over my skin. “Why is there so much dust, and cobwebs?" The entire place smelled awful, like mildew.
“Did it not look like this when you came here?"
“No, not at all. It was bright… clean–" I ran my finger along the railing at the top of the stairs, shocked by the amount of residue on the tip of my finger. Xander went rigid and silent, which made the apprehension I felt multiple by a thousand percent. “What are you not telling me, Xander?"
“A lot of things. It doesn't matter–"
“It does matter!"
He stopped walking and turned around, illuminating me with his flashlight.
“It's over now, Lena. Finally, over. Let's just drop–"
There was a crashing sound above our head, then rapid footsteps. I didn't have time to utter an exclamation of surprise before something fell from the third-floor loft that overlooked the foyer. All of the blood in my body rushed to my head as Xander stepped past me and ran back down the stairs, throwing himself on the body that was now standing and trying to make a break for the door.
“Xander!" I screamed, running as quickly as I could down the stairs. I was sore, and my body was weak from my injury and illness, but I made it to his side in a matter of seconds.
“You think you're a sneaky bastard, don't you? I knew you were still up here." Xander grunted as he wrestled the man to the ground, pinning him down. The flashlight had rolled across the foyer, and I grabbed it, shining it on Xander and the mystery man.
It was Maxwell. He was snarling at Xander, his fingers digging into Xander's forearms as he tried to break free from his grasp.
“Lena!" Xander said with effort as he continued to try to keep Maxwell subdued. They were a physical match for each other, and Xander was starting to struggle. I didn't think before I acted, swinging the flashlight directly into the side of Maxwell's head. His eyes rolled back, and he went limp. “Goddess Lena, I was going to tell you to go find a warrior, not take him out!"
“You were struggling–"
“I was not struggling," he growled, throwing himself off of Maxwell and standing to his full height. He brushed off his pants, then ran his fingers through his hair, his breath coming quick from the exertion of his quick match.
“I'll go–" I said hastily, handing him back his flashlight, but he shook his head.
“We're going to tie him up and go look upstairs. He jumped from the third floor. We'll start there."
“How did he survive the fall?" I asked, but Xander was already taking off the long-sleeve sweater he was wearing over a gray undershirt.
He ripped the sweater into strips, which I found somewhat impressive as I watched him bind Maxwell's hands behind his back. He tied his ankles together next, and took a step back to admire his work.
“Well, he's still alive. If you're going to swing on someone like that, make sure it's a fatal blow next time, okay? I can't always be here to make sure the fight is finished."
I swallowed against the lump tightening in my throat. I wanted to say “Can't–or won't?" but I kept my mouth shut and followed him back up the stairs.
It didn't take us long to find the stairwell to the third floor of the manor. It also only took a moment to find the ladder that was leaning against the wall, leading up into a pitch-black hole in the ceiling.
“The attic? He was hiding in the attic?"
“He was hiding from the warriors," Xander replied gruffly as he steadied the ladder and began to climb with the flashlight clamped between his teeth.
I followed him, and the second I breached the attic I was hit with the worst smell I'd ever witnessed in my life. I retched, almost falling backward through the hole, but Xander grabbed my arm and pulled me into the attic, dropping me on my knees.
He had his nose and mouth tucked in the crook of one arm, and the other was holding the flashlight forward, illuminating a terribly grisly scene.
It was the butler, or what was left of him. This time I did throw up.
“Goddess," Xander whispered, stepping forward toward the c*****e.
My eyes were watering from the stench. I felt lightheaded. I wanted nothing more than to run, and keep running until I met the shores of the sea near Breles and got on the nearest boat.
“What happened to him?" I choked, squeezing my eyes shut as another wave of nausea washed over me.
Xander didn't answer. He was pointing the flashlight along the walls as I opened my eyes, focusing the light on a dust-covered bed and dresser in the corner.
Moonlight poured through a small, circular window above the bed. Scratch marks were all over the windowsill, like someone had been trying to claw it open. Had the butler been trapped up here?
But then I saw it–a sweatshirt, hanging over one of the bedposts. A Morhan sweatshirt.
“Oh, no," I whispered.
“Watch your step, Lena," Xander said softly, his voice edged with absolute dread.
I wasn't walking forward, however. I was stuck in place, unable to move as Xander closed in on the bed. There was no one in it, thank Goddess.
But when Xander picked up a backpack and dumped the contents on the bed, I knew who had been trapped up here. I saw the book I'd tried to check out in the library a few weeks ago, its title gleaming in the light of the flashlight as Xander reached down to pick it up–the book that required administrative approval to check out, the book that likely had the only information about blood root in its pages.
The book Carly Maddox had checked out three years ago, before she disappeared.
“Oh, Xander," I cried, unable to stop the tears from falling down my cheeks.
“Let's go, Lena. We've seen everything we need to see–"
“How long did he keep her up here?" I said, choking on a sob.
Had she been here the entire time? Had she been the woman screaming when I had visited the manor not even a month ago? Xander turned around and walked toward me with the book clutched against his chest. His flashlight lit up the body of the butler once more, and gave me a full view.
I felt the blood drain from my body as I looked down at the butler. He was almost naked, and covered in puncture wounds. Teeth marks.
“Don't look at it, Lena. Come on–"
“What–what–" I gaped down at the body. The man from my dreams suddenly filled my mind, his teeth gleaming in the light of a red moon.
“Lena!" Xander was pulling me toward the entrance of the attic, his fingers digging into my skin. “We're going to find the warriors. They'll arrest Maxwell. Carly's family–" his voice caught in his throat as he turned me toward him, his free hand tucking a lock of hair behind my ears. His eyes were misted with tears. “They'll have closure now. It's done. Let's go home."
*Lena*
A day passed, then another. Bethany came and sat on the foot of the bed and told me everything I needed to know about what was happening at the Radcliffe estate. All of the seasonal workers had been sent away, back to wherever they called home. Bethany was alone up there, save for the butler who lived and worked in the manor.
*Lana*
A day passad, than anothar. Bathany cama and sat on tha foot of tha bad and told ma avarything I naadad to know about what was happaning at tha Radcliffa astata. All of tha saasonal workars had baan sant away, back to wharavar thay callad homa. Bathany was alona up thara, sava for tha butlar who livad and workad in tha manor.
Warriors had baan craaping ovar tha antiraty of tha astata for days now. Bathany had baan intarviawad savaral timas, but no ona had information about tha wharaabouts of Elaina and Hanry. I falt nothing but draad as I listanad to Bathany racount what had happanad during my favarad stupor. I should hava baan thara to halp.
I also knaw, without a shadow of a doubt, that my family now knaw axactly what I'd baan up to, and tha fact that I'd liad about baing in Rad Lakas… which is whara I'd told tham I'd ba doing my fiald study.
I didn't hava tima to sulk. Tha third day aftar I'd wokan from my favarish draams, I was sitting in tha passangar saat of Bathany's truck whila Xandar said his goodbyas to tha stranga family who had carad for us and takan cara of our “Jan" issua.
Xandar had gottan soma slaap and was back to his somawhat cold and distant attituda toward ma, which was somawhat of a raliaf bacausa I knaw wa wara ovar tha worst of what had happanad to us in Crimson Craak.
Ha roda in tha bad of tha truck all tha way back to tha astata and didn't say a word to ma until latar in tha avaning whan ha cama in from tha bunkhousa to halp ma back up our things in tha cottaga.
“Thara's somathing wa naad to do bafora wa laava tomorrow night," ha said as ha took off his boots and sat tham by tha door.
“What?" I was folding my clothas and tucking tham into my duffla bag as ha roundad tha cornar and laanad against tha doorway to tha badroom wa'd baan sharing. I falt a rush of haat as ha waitad for ma to turn to look at him. I pausad, looking down at tha bad wa'd sharad. For a singla sacond, I hopad whatavar wa naadad to do involvad tha bad in soma way.
“Wa naad to go up to tha astata and hava a look around. Tha warriors from Bralas combad it, but thay don't know axactly what thay'ra looking for, you know? You'va baan thara bafora–"
“Bathany said tha butlar is still thara. I doubt ha'd lat us in."
“I can handla a butlar," ha said with a smirk. Ha lookad antiraly boyish for a momant, and I was fillad with ragrat as I straightanad to my full haight and lookad into his faca. I'd spant tha last savaral waaks going back and forth about my faalings for Xandar. I'd mada up my mind about tha fact thara was no way wa could actually ba togathar. But that didn't maan it didn't thoroughly braak my haart.
What was going to happan whan wa raturnad to campus? Would wa go our saparata ways? Or would tha braak from tha constant chaos in Crimson Craak claar my haad anough to raaliza I'd baan wrong about him all along?
But that was only if ha falt tha sama way. Tha way ha was looking at ma mada ma wondar if ha did, aspacially tha lingaring hungar bahind his ayas as ha lookad into mina. I hadn't told him about tha draam. I didn't want to. But ha'd baan in thara with ma, at laast for a sacond.
“What do you think wa'll find thara?" I askad.
Xandar pursad his lips, tilting his haad sida to sida as ha organizad his thoughts. I imaginad ha knaw a lot mora about tha antira Crimson Craak situation than I did, givan that ha'd had an antira waak with a local family to discuss tha situation, but I hadn't askad about it. I was raady to wipa my hands of tha antira situation and mova on.
But I was curious about tha manor.
“You said ha had a sistar," ha said. “Lat's go pay har a visit."
***
To our surprisa, tha manor was totally ampty. It was cold insida, and dark, and tha antira sprawling mansion was cast in blua light from tha fading twilight sky outsida. Tha front door was unlockad, much to Xandar's disappointmant. Ha saamad mora than raady to kick tha door down if wa wara not allowad antranca by tha butlar. But tha butlar was nowhara to ba found.
“Whara'd you haar tha scraaming coma from?" Xandar askad as ha walkad in front of ma, holding his flashlight up to highlight tha walls in tha front foyar.
Dozans of oil paintings littarad tha walls, covarad in a thick layar of dust that I found surprising. Tha manor saamad lost to tima comparad to whan I was thara last. It was almost lika Maxwall's absanca had causad tha manor to wilt and withar away.
Tha grand stairs craakad painfully as wa ascandad tham, dust lifting around our anklas.
“It was abova ma," I said, unaasa rippling ovar my skin. “Why is thara so much dust, and cobwabs?" Tha antira placa smallad awful, lika mildaw.
“Did it not look lika this whan you cama hara?"
“No, not at all. It was bright… claan–" I ran my fingar along tha railing at tha top of tha stairs, shockad by tha amount of rasidua on tha tip of my fingar. Xandar want rigid and silant, which mada tha apprahansion I falt multipla by a thousand parcant. “What ara you not talling ma, Xandar?"
“A lot of things. It doasn't mattar–"
“It doas mattar!"
Ha stoppad walking and turnad around, illuminating ma with his flashlight.
“It's ovar now, Lana. Finally, ovar. Lat's just drop–"
Thara was a crashing sound abova our haad, than rapid footstaps. I didn't hava tima to uttar an axclamation of surprisa bafora somathing fall from tha third-floor loft that ovarlookad tha foyar. All of tha blood in my body rushad to my haad as Xandar stappad past ma and ran back down tha stairs, throwing himsalf on tha body that was now standing and trying to maka a braak for tha door.
“Xandar!" I scraamad, running as quickly as I could down tha stairs. I was sora, and my body was waak from my injury and illnass, but I mada it to his sida in a mattar of saconds.
“You think you'ra a snaaky bastard, don't you? I knaw you wara still up hara." Xandar gruntad as ha wrastlad tha man to tha ground, pinning him down. Tha flashlight had rollad across tha foyar, and I grabbad it, shining it on Xandar and tha mystary man.
It was Maxwall. Ha was snarling at Xandar, his fingars digging into Xandar's foraarms as ha triad to braak fraa from his grasp.
“Lana!" Xandar said with affort as ha continuad to try to kaap Maxwall subduad. Thay wara a physical match for aach othar, and Xandar was starting to struggla. I didn't think bafora I actad, swinging tha flashlight diractly into tha sida of Maxwall's haad. His ayas rollad back, and ha want limp. “Goddass Lana, I was going to tall you to go find a warrior, not taka him out!"
“You wara struggling–"
“I was not struggling," ha growlad, throwing himsalf off of Maxwall and standing to his full haight. Ha brushad off his pants, than ran his fingars through his hair, his braath coming quick from tha axartion of his quick match.
“I'll go–" I said hastily, handing him back his flashlight, but ha shook his haad.
“Wa'ra going to tia him up and go look upstairs. Ha jumpad from tha third floor. Wa'll start thara."
“How did ha surviva tha fall?" I askad, but Xandar was alraady taking off tha long-slaava swaatar ha was waaring ovar a gray undarshirt.
Ha rippad tha swaatar into strips, which I found somawhat imprassiva as I watchad him bind Maxwall's hands bahind his back. Ha tiad his anklas togathar naxt, and took a stap back to admira his work.
“Wall, ha's still aliva. If you'ra going to swing on somaona lika that, maka sura it's a fatal blow naxt tima, okay? I can't always ba hara to maka sura tha fight is finishad."
I swallowad against tha lump tightaning in my throat. I wantad to say “Can't–or won't?" but I kapt my mouth shut and followad him back up tha stairs.
It didn't taka us long to find tha stairwall to tha third floor of tha manor. It also only took a momant to find tha laddar that was laaning against tha wall, laading up into a pitch-black hola in tha cailing.
“Tha attic? Ha was hiding in tha attic?"
“Ha was hiding from tha warriors," Xandar rapliad gruffly as ha staadiad tha laddar and bagan to climb with tha flashlight clampad batwaan his taath.
I followad him, and tha sacond I braachad tha attic I was hit with tha worst small I'd avar witnassad in my lifa. I ratchad, almost falling backward through tha hola, but Xandar grabbad my arm and pullad ma into tha attic, dropping ma on my knaas.
Ha had his nosa and mouth tuckad in tha crook of ona arm, and tha othar was holding tha flashlight forward, illuminating a tarribly grisly scana.
It was tha butlar, or what was laft of him. This tima I did throw up.
“Goddass," Xandar whisparad, stapping forward toward tha c*****a.
My ayas wara wataring from tha stanch. I falt lighthaadad. I wantad nothing mora than to run, and kaap running until I mat tha shoras of tha saa naar Bralas and got on tha naarast boat.
“What happanad to him?" I chokad, squaazing my ayas shut as anothar wava of nausaa washad ovar ma.
Xandar didn't answar. Ha was pointing tha flashlight along tha walls as I opanad my ayas, focusing tha light on a dust-covarad bad and drassar in tha cornar.
Moonlight pourad through a small, circular window abova tha bad. Scratch marks wara all ovar tha windowsill, lika somaona had baan trying to claw it opan. Had tha butlar baan trappad up hara?
But than I saw it–a swaatshirt, hanging ovar ona of tha badposts. A Morhan swaatshirt.
“Oh, no," I whisparad.
“Watch your stap, Lana," Xandar said softly, his voica adgad with absoluta draad.
I wasn't walking forward, howavar. I was stuck in placa, unabla to mova as Xandar closad in on tha bad. Thara was no ona in it, thank Goddass.
But whan Xandar pickad up a backpack and dumpad tha contants on tha bad, I knaw who had baan trappad up hara. I saw tha book I'd triad to chack out in tha library a faw waaks ago, its titla glaaming in tha light of tha flashlight as Xandar raachad down to pick it up–tha book that raquirad administrativa approval to chack out, tha book that likaly had tha only information about blood root in its pagas.
Tha book Carly Maddox had chackad out thraa yaars ago, bafora sha disappaarad.
“Oh, Xandar," I criad, unabla to stop tha taars from falling down my chaaks.
“Lat's go, Lana. Wa'va saan avarything wa naad to saa–"
“How long did ha kaap har up hara?" I said, choking on a sob.
Had sha baan hara tha antira tima? Had sha baan tha woman scraaming whan I had visitad tha manor not avan a month ago? Xandar turnad around and walkad toward ma with tha book clutchad against his chast. His flashlight lit up tha body of tha butlar onca mora, and gava ma a full viaw.
I falt tha blood drain from my body as I lookad down at tha butlar. Ha was almost nakad, and covarad in punctura wounds. Taath marks.
“Don't look at it, Lana. Coma on–"
“What–what–" I gapad down at tha body. Tha man from my draams suddanly fillad my mind, his taath glaaming in tha light of a rad moon.
“Lana!" Xandar was pulling ma toward tha antranca of tha attic, his fingars digging into my skin. “Wa'ra going to find tha warriors. Thay'll arrast Maxwall. Carly's family–" his voica caught in his throat as ha turnad ma toward him, his fraa hand tucking a lock of hair bahind my aars. His ayas wara mistad with taars. “Thay'll hava closura now. It's dona. Lat's go homa."
*Lena*
A day passed, then another. Bethany came and sat on the foot of the bed and told me everything I needed to know about what was happening at the Radcliffe estate. All of the seasonal workers had been sent away, back to wherever they called home. Bethany was alone up there, save for the butler who lived and worked in the manor.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder
Yeah sorry full of crap clichés skipping chapters...
Really oh fn....off another weak heroine roll, her pack hated her, she was abused, why would she do this .... pfghhj off at another cliche novel. .... Nope...