“Gramercy House.”
“Gramercy House?” Maxwell wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Where the family of vampires were mobbed way back when?”
I nodded. Of course. I recalled catching a glimpse of a large house through the hazy fog when we’d been out there previously. It had been right there. “It’s perfect actually,” I agreed. “The stigma keeps people away. Even Cecelia talked about being dared to venture inside when she was a little girl.”
“Then we must go there,” Ambrose said, straightening. “At once.”
Maxwell lifted an eyebrow. “And what of the ball?”
Ambrose peered at his pocket watch. “It won’t start for another few hours yet. We have time.”
I hesitated, glancing at the window and the sun hanging in the sky beyond. I recalled what had happened last time we’d been out there, and I didn’t relish the idea of a repeat encounter with Raven. But we had a few hours of daylight left. That would have to be enough.
“If we’re going to do this, we’d best get going,” Violetta said.
I exchanged a look with Ambrose before returning my gaze to her. “You could wait here, if you’d rather. Rest before the ball.”
Violetta’s face twisted into a grimace. “And miss the opportunity to scold Emmett for making us all worry needlessly? I think not.”
I grinned, shrugging at Ambrose and Maxwell. “You heard the lady. Let’s track down your brother and end this charade, shall we?” I reached out a hand to Ambrose for the list of hunter names. “I can keep that safe.”
“This should stay in the society’s hands for now.” He said, tucking it into his jacket pocket. “You understand.”
I understood. I understood completely. I also understood I would retrieve that list from him by any means, even if I had to pry it out of his cold, dead hands.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The graveyard was much prettier in the evening without torrents of rain bombarding us. The air smelled of freshly-turned earth, and as we walked between the rows of old white headstones, I noted holes in the ground, likely from the ghouls I glimpsed in the underbrush. While it had been years since the corpses had been filled out with flesh, the ghouls still gnawed on the bones between the meals the surrounding forest and countryside provided.
Previously obscured by thick fog, Gramercy House was a square mansion, intimidating from afar, but clearly in a state of disrepair, which became all the more obvious the nearer we drew. The yard was overgrown with weeds and a garden gone wild over the years with raspberries and blackberries, a flock of crows eyeing us warily from a dead oak tree as if to chase us off if we ventured too close.
The manor had no glass left in its windows, and the half-rotten door only required one to duck to gain entry. The spacious entry hall was littered with dead leaves that crunched beneath our feet, and the rug leading to a staircase stunk of mildew. A chandelier that had fallen from its perch long ago lay dormant in the middle of the room, glass shards sparkling as they caught the light from our lanterns.
“Emmett would stayhere?” Ambrose asked, skeptical.
“If he was desperate enough,” I said, trying to see any paths through the leaves and dirt that would indicate someone had been living here. There were some bare trails that someone careful could utilize without giving themselves away, likely carved by the wind blowing in through the exposed doorway. Cecelia was right that a fire did not appear to have run through these walls.
“Emmett!” Maxwell shouted suddenly. “Are you here, brother?”
We all stood still, listening for a response from the old, dark house, but it remained silent as his echo died on the air.
“Well,” Ambrose said, wrinkling his nose as he shone his light over an overturned table, a broken vase pinning mummified flowers beneath its heavy shards, “I suppose we should have a look around.”
“I’ll check upstairs,” Violetta volunteered.
Ambrose sent her a tight smile. “And I’ll make sure you don’t fall through the floor. There are bound to be rotted floorboards all over this place.”
She nodded, wide-eyed and followed him to the staircase.
I turned toward a doorway that led further into the house, stepping out a moment later into a room missing half of its wall with crumbled stone strewn about, making for a difficult path.
“Are you going to go through with it?”
I jumped, glancing back to find Maxwell only a few paces behind me. “You startled me.”
“Are you going to marry him?” he repeated, ignoring my outburst.
I hesitated, the earnestness in his gaze squeezing my heart. “You don’t think I should? You don’t want me around?”
