Shivers race down my spine while I glance around for its source. Suggestive whispers bend and twist on the breeze, floating to my ears from the shed.
Sure enough, the edge of someone’s cloak flashes behind the weathered wall.
Giggles and another, more erotic moan follow. Both voices belong to women.
What in the Netherworld hell?I’m making my way toward them when a shout goes up from the other side of the flower greenhouse.
Sister Kerrigan emerges from behind it, halting me where I stand.
Intimidatingly tall and stout, she stalks toward the shed, her scarlet robes brushing the ground beneath her cloak. Like the other sisters I’ve encountered, her dark hair is styled into a chignon at her nape. A sheer gauze veil is pinned over her head.
Lips twisted with disgust, she snarls, “That’snotwhat you’re here to do.” She lunges behind the wall while I stare, flabbergasted.
A yelp rings out, followed by a pained wail. Kerrigan emerges, dragging a girl around my age by the arm.
Recognition hits, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Rosalie is her name; I ran into her and her friend Cara earlier. They were feeding the finches by the sprawling tree in the courtyard.
Rosalie’s head swings my way, a look of raw panic on her face as Kerrigan hauls her away from the shed. Ice floods my veins when I register the streaks of blood smearing her lips and chin.
What the hell happened?
With a growl, Kerrigan flings her away like a rag doll, sending her stumbling.
“I’m sorry,” gasps Rosalie, barely keeping her balance. “I won’t do it again.” The blood on her face is already drying a rusty brown.
Closing the distance between them, Kerriganslingshotsa broad hand across her cheek. The impact, and Rosalie’s shriek, pierce my ears. Birds erupt in panic from the enormous tree, their cries and the wild rush of wings filling the air.
Weakness shoots through my legs while I try to make sense of what’s happening in front of me.
Kerrigan growls something that sounds like “see Deirdre” before seizing Rosalie and jerking her along. Another anguished noise escapes her as the two of them go murky behind the greenhouse’s steam-streaked glass.
Every nerve in my body pricking with dread, I’m frozen in place. Soft sobs come from the compost shed.Oh, gods, Cara!
Rushing toward it, I’m almost bowled over when she bursts out, crashing into me.
“Sorry!” she cries. Her cloak’s hood is pulled forward, one tear-streaked cheek barely visible.
“Are you all right? What happened?”
Cara shoulders past me. Staggering toward our residence, she tramples a clump of radishes along the way.
“Wait!” I shift my weight, determined to run after her.
A firm hand lands on my shoulder, halting me where I stand. “Don’t. You. Dare.”
The clipped words slice through me with razor precision, the steely voice turning my blood hot. I pivot and flinch, finding myself face-to-face with the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in my life. Probably.
Very likely.
Her piercing hazel eyes are locked onto mine, a furrow pinching between her eyebrows. For a moment we share the same air. A strange energy trembles between us.
Seeming to realize she’s still touching me, she yanks her hand back and spins, crossing the stony ground as if she can’t get away fast enough.
“Hold on,” I call, trailing her to the greenhouse. “You saw that, right? What Sister Kerrigan did to Rosalie?”
The greenhouse door is barely shut behind us when the woman turns. She’s definitely older than me, a few inches taller than me, and dignified in bearing. “I understand you’re still adjusting to everything, so allow me to help,” she says, her jawtight. “Strange things happen around here. I don’t see them. Neither do you.Gotit?”
I step back. “So that’s how it is?”
