She studied his face for a long moment. ‘I said, I think we need to have a proper look at the statue.’
‘Is that wise? It was buried down there for a reason.’
‘Maybe. But that reason might not have been to our benefit. Right under the house like that? And then the whole area blocked off and hidden? It was left there so it could fester and grow, infect the whole house. Hidden away.’
Except for the secret door. Someone had known about that. Not Theo perhaps. But her grandfather had written about it.
‘Is there anything in the notebook about sealing or controlling?’ he asked.
‘I think he knew it was there and he was hiding it. Perhaps trying to keep it under his control. He didn’t tell Theo anything, did he?’
‘I’m pretty sure Theo would have told me if he knew. Or Sally.’ But there were things none of them had told each other, after all.
And were there things he wasn’t telling Alex now?
He hadn’t hidden his true nature from her. Not intentionally. But nor had he shared it. He’d run off, hidden, stayed away until he was sure he could control himself. He hadn’t shared his past, dreamlike, mangled and half-forgotten as it was. He refused to let her see what he could be when the wild took him.
Sally had never really seen the thing she had made of him. Not really. She saw purpose, she saw need. But not him.
Alex’s hand closed on his fist. She stood beside him now, a look of concern on her face as she bent over him. ‘Are you okay?’ Her touch was warm and so painfully gentle.
‘Yes, I – I’m sorry. What were you saying?’
‘Do you want to talk about her? About them? Sally and Theo, I mean?’
She didn’t manage to look as if the prospect thrilled her either, but at least she offered.
‘They’re at peace now,’ he replied at last, forcing the words around the lump in his throat. ‘They’re together. And safe. That’s what matters.’
Alex hunkered down in front of him, searching his face for something. She didn’t let go of his hand. The pad of her thumb brushed against his knuckles. ‘Any other man might still be angry, might want revenge. Might want them to suffer. Not find peace together.’
Nick shrugged. What did they say about people setting out to get revenge? First dig two graves. He’d already done that. He had stood over two graves anyway. It definitely hadn’t helped. ‘I never saw the point in that kind of thinking. It just tortures everyone.’
‘True,’ Alex replied, and then her phone rang again. ‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ She poked a finger at the screen as she got up and turned away. ‘Yes, Gabe, what now?’
She walked out of the room, and he could hear her pacing in the hall. Talking, listening, talking again. Which left Nick sitting there, looking at the hidden door. On his own.
His hands shook, just a little, and he clenched them into fists again to make it stop. Blaise Chambers had tried to take his daughter. He had almost taken his wife’s spirit. Even after death he had tried to destroy her.
And he was supposed to be the guardian of this place. He was supposed to protect it. He’d been focused on trying to protect it from Blaise, and hadn’t thought that there could be more.
Nick dragged the armchair away from the door, opened it and stepped into the darkness. For a moment he just stood thereat the top of the stairs, looking down into a space blacker than a moonless night. He felt nothing of the wild wood here now. Nothing of the trees that sustained him and filled the emptiness inside him. But he could feel something down there still. It was an empty, sucking hole underneath the house, where Theo had lived, and all his ancestors before him. It was the thing that Sally had been trying to guard against when she embroiled them in her schemes.
It had almost taken Maeve…
His head swam and he had to reach out and steady himself against the wall. It felt greasy, unclean.
‘Nick?’ Alex said again, her hand resting on his arm, her fingertips so cool, like points of ice.
He shook himself, trying to clear the fog gnawing at the edges of his mind. The need to turn around and sweep her up in his arms again shuddered through him. He could still feel her lips on his, that bruising kiss, the way it burned. The way he hadn’t entirely felt like himself as he kissed her.
Nick swallowed hard, forced himself to focus on the here and now. Something was wrong. This place was evil. And he knew why.
‘Maybe we shouldn’t. Even if it’s not—’ He wouldn’t say cursed. He couldn’t. Even if that was what it felt like. ‘What if it’s old? Shouldn’t we get an archaeologist or something?’
She considered that, perhaps not noticing that it was just an excuse. ‘Maybe. But we need to take a look at it, at least. Take some photos. No one is going to believe us otherwise.’
‘Okay,’ he agreed, but he didn’t move. ‘Then we need torches. And work gloves.’
