Anyone.
Where was everyone? Usually, a place like this would be bustling, but not at present. Everyone had simply vanished. Even the horses were missing from the carriage.
There had been more signs of life at the back of the building.
“Look!” Delmare called. “There’s a cart like the monkey cart, only it’s empty.”
Indeed, a cage had been left open. Then she noticed that the courtyard wasn’t just empty but littered with hastily dropped objects.
A groom’s brush. A broom. A basket of food, tossed on its side...
She followed a trail of food across the courtyard. There, beneath the tree near the stables were the fresh remains of a sheep—a sheep viciously torn to pieces.
“Children,” she said. “Get into the carriage and close the door.”
Blessedly, they did not argue. As they clattered unto the carriage behind her, the animal she’d been seeking sauntered out from behind the tree. She’d only seen such a creature in drawings, and the artistry had failed to capture the animal’s awful beauty.
A sound like thunder came from the beast’s throat—a terrible, threatening noise that portended destruction. A noise that was everywhere at once.
She froze in place. Completely unable to function.
“Mrs. Montrose!”
Blood rushed to her head. “Stay down!” she called back without turning. “Be quiet!”
The beast threw back its head. A long, pink tongue darted out and flicked over its teeth. She checked over her shoulder just to make sure Delmare had closed the door. She kicked aside the steps. The animal’s gaze followed the clattering wooden stairs.
Yes. “That’s it,” she cooed. “You’re not interested in a carriage, are you?”
The lion paced, eyes moving between the carriage and herself. Oh God! Where was everyone? She took a few slow, backward steps away from the wheels.
“Beast! Me!” She patted down her coat for something to catch his attention and then remembered Fee’s parasol. “Over here. Come here.” She used the contraption to bang the dust. “Hey!”
The lion continued to watch the carriage.
Pink fabric gave a whining stretch as she opened Fee’s parasol.
The beast made another awful noise—a growl that almost brought her to her knees.Breathe.If she could remain calm, she could master the situation. Or, at the very least, lead the thing away from the children.
Behind the cover of the parasol, she tossed a rock toward what appeared to be a blacksmith’s shop. The beast’s head whipped in the direction she’d thrown.
Somewhere in the inn, something clattered. For a terrifying moment, she thought the animal would decide to stalk the carriage.
“No!” she shouted. “Me! Follow me!”
ChapterFive
The inn’s rear door opened into a deserted kitchen—recently deserted, judging by the bubbling pot on the stove, the haphazard placement of utensils strewn across a long trestle table, and the hunk of bloody meat left atop a grinder.
With a growing sense of dismay, Hurtheven followed the sound of hushed voices through a pantry, and then a taproom, before finally finding a small crowd gathered at the front-facing windows of the coffee room.
His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimmer surroundings. “To whom do I apply for assistance?” he asked.
No one answered.
He scanned the faces of a dozen or more people. But if Ash’s coachman, his groom, and his footman had reached the inn, they were not present now. His gaze settled on the most likely proprietors—a tall, matronly woman with a blood-stained apron and a portly fellow with his hand atop her shoulder.
“Oh!” the woman held a towel to her mouth. “I cannot stand it! Death in my courtyard! We’ll be cursed for certain!”
