“I defended myself,” I repeated—like trying to convince myself that I hadn’t murdered a man.
“Okay, good. Now,” she said, releasing me and turning back to the room.
The room felt cosy—a short bookcase with two high-backed and winged golden and grey chairs, a circular table fallen to the floor and a cracked golden lamp.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“This is the entrance to our chambers. I call it the reading nook,” she replied, stepping forward to right the turned over table. Not that it did much good—the ceiling light hung loose by a precarious cable, swinging like a pendulum above us, and books were scattered across the floor. The room was a state.
“What happened here?” I asked.
“I don’t know. We think… we think we’re under attack,” Sasha answered.
I felt colder somehow—colder than the constant cold I had felt since leaving Sanguis Academy.
“Under Attack?” I asked.
Sasha turned to me. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine. Ada is checking everything now, and we have the Ardens guard. This estate was designed to be a stronghold of the north. We’re safe here.”
“Then why did you say we were going to Petra? Why leave if it’s safe here?” I asked. Sasha’s uncertainty—her seeming confusion—unnerved me.
“It’s just a precaution,” Sasha answered.
I nodded, but I didn’t believe her. She had no more idea what was going on than I did.
I needed to find Selene.
My palms felt sticky with sweat and blood, and nausea twisted my insides. Fear crept up the back of my neck. Everything within me craved the safety that Selene provided.
A loud blast shook the room. The large ceiling light fell to the ground between us, glass bulbs shattering, adding to the litter of the floor.
Sasha and I both startled and stumbled, but as the dust rose, I became determined to find Selene. What if the attack in the dining room was planned? What if they knew this was going to happen?
I had to get back to Selene.
Sasha attempted to stop me as I rushed past her, but I swivelled out of her reach and made it to the hanging door—sliding and squeezing my way through the gap between the door and frame.
Out in the corridor was eerily quiet. The windows were all cracked and blown out, the art on the walls was crooked or smashed on the ground. A constant fog of dust and smoke made it difficult to breathe and see. My eyes stung and watered, and I pulled my wool jumper over my mouth to help me breathe as I turned and made my way towards Selene’s office.
I moved as fast as I could, doing my best to keep my balance. It felt like I had no sea legs. But I was on dry land—and despite the explosions, because that’s what they had to be—the ground beneath my feet was stable.
It was myself that was off balance.
I hesitated as I neared the kitchen. The kitchen was just down the corridor from the servant’s dining room, and yet no one had come to my aid before—despite someone surely having been able to hear what was happening. Daniel was clearly a vampire of some content, the way his green eyes had glowed in ire at my interruption. Did he not hear what was happening?
The thought led to an even more troubling one: did Selene not feel my distress? Did she feel me constantly, or was it intermittent like I for her? Was she in danger too?
The thought of Selene under attack spurred me on, and I picked up my pace, no longer hesitant to pass the kitchen. A fierceness consumed my thoughts. Selene needed me, and nothing could keep me from her. Steeling myself, I straightened—even my legs felt more stable. I would find Selene. I would not leave her alone in this.
As I passed the entrance of the kitchen, I was pulled from the corridor and into the kitchen, a hand tight across my mouth.
“Be quiet, it’s me,” Katrina whispered beside my ear.
I looked around. The kitchen was empty, the stew boiling over on the stove top, vegetables half-chopped on the counter, knives precariously discarded, as if all at once everyone had abandoned their tasks.
“We’ve got to be quiet, understand?” she asked.
I nodded in response, and she released me.
