Then I remembered the hollow eyes of the patients, turned into shadows, the bleeding wounds on Jeremiah’s temples.
Anything would be better than rotting here.
Anything would be better than losing my name, my personality.
If there were a monster waiting for me in that cursed mansion, I’d take my chances.
I’d been living with one for years and managed just fine.
The blond man still paced around me, turning my insides into a knot.
“His name is Emrys. You will gain his trust. You will find his maps, his personal notes, anything he has on the ley lines.”
His voice was smooth, but there was something razor-edged beneath it.
Ley lines. I noted the word very well. It settled like ice in my veins.
Vexley stood up, searching for something among the piles of papers on his desk.
“He might call them otherwise. But seek all notes, books, or artifacts that seem valuable to him. Copy or steal them. Deliver everything you can get your hands on to us.”
“L... ley lines?” I stuttered.
“It’s a very basic esoteric concept—lines connecting places with certain powers across the globe. Humanity knew of these places in ancient times. Educated and clever as you are, Lady Draymoore, I know you’re thinking of the pyramids in Egypt and Stonehenge—but there are many, many more. The knowledge of them has been long lost. Nearly lost. It landed in the hands of one self-appointed Knowledge Keeper.”
He called me by my title, I noted. His eyes drifted away, and for a moment, he looked lost in a dream, nearly innocent.
“I know that Emrys has this information. You shall look not only for locations but also a sort of calendar. An astrological map, marking different dates, connecting them to the locations.”
His voice was soft now, polite as if we were having tea in some parlour.
If it weren’t for that gnawing feeling at the base of my spine, I might have mistaken him for a gentleman.
But something deep inside me warned otherwise—an ancient instinct from the ages of campfires and caves, warning me I was in the presence of a dangerous predator. That he might strike at any moment and hurt me in unfathomable ways.
“Do not hold any illusions, Lady Draymoore. We’re sending you into the lair of a beast. This man was hurt, tormented, cornered, and trapped. But he could be extremely manipulative. Stay safe. Keep a cool head. Guard your heart.”
“That’s why I think sending a woman is a nuisance—” Vexley began, shaking his head.
But he couldn’t finish his sentence.
Against all natural laws, the angel of death was at him—his gloved right hand around Vexley’s throat, lifting him clean off the floor as if he weighed nothing.
His feet kicked the air, and I rubbed my eyes to make sure I was seeing right.
No human could do this.
The blond man’s posture showed no strain. His left hand still casually held his cane.
“Consider this a final warning, Vexley. Do not forget your place in all this. Contradict me once more, and you’re going to Duskmere Manor next.”
The shadows around him shifted, and for a moment, I thought I saw again the flash of those wings.
He dropped the breathless doctor and looked away.
“And if you’d seen as much as I did, you’d have learned to never underestimate women.”
Well, that was one point we agreed upon.
