That sounds like footsteps.
I flung a t-shirt over my bare breasts and went to the door. I opened it gingerly, expecting to see someone on the landing. The square of light from my open door illuminated the narrow space. No one was there.
I must’ve imagined it.
I pushed the door shut and went back to bed. As soon as I sank into the sheets, the creaking started again. I paused, listening.It’s just the house settling, nothing to worry about—
Creak, creak, creeeeak.
Nope, that’s footsteps.
Definitely footsteps.
Onthisfloor.
I slid out of bed, silently this time, grabbing the lamp off the bedside table and yanking the cord from the wall. The creaking continued as I crossed the room and leaned against the door, raising the lamp above my head as my fingers closed around the handle.
Creak. Crea—
“Fuck off,” I yelled as I flung open the door and leaped into the gloom.
The creaking stopped.
My breath froze.
The landing was completely empty.
I swung in a circle, then leaned out to check the staircase. No one there, either. My blood rushed in my ears as my fingers tightened around the lamp. “Dorien, if that’s you, I’ll be reporting this as harassment. I don’t care how rich your daddy is.”
Silence answered me. I stood until my sweaty fingers could no longer grip the lamp, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.
Back in my room, I slammed the lamp down and poked my head out the window. Down below, the students gathered around a wrought-iron table, passing a bottle of something around. I recognized all of them – the twins, Heather, Aroha, Titus… and Dorien.
How had he got back outside so quickly?
As if sensing my silent accusation, Dorien looked up. When his eyes met mine, he flashed me a smile that was all teeth and menace. He raked a hand through his hair – the moonlight painted his dark locks with shades of russet and crimson. A rush of heat coursed through my body, and I hated myself for it.
I couldn’t be attracted to Dorien Valencourt, or any of the Muses, especially when they turned their ire toward me.
With a roar of frustration, I slammed the window shut and yanked the curtain across. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I’d only been at Manderley one day and already I wanted to leave. I slouched over to the bed and wriggled under the covers.
But even though my body ached with weariness, I couldn’t sleep. My skin crawled with the sensation of being watched. I flicked the light on, scanning the empty room, then flicked it off. But the feeling didn’t go away.
And then, just as my eyelids fluttered shut, I heard it again.
The creak of footsteps against the floorboards. Slower now, more deliberate and careful. Only this time, I could tell that they weren’t coming from outside my door.
They echoed along the wall opposite my bed.
The footsteps were coming from the locked storage room.
Chapter Eleven
Faye
Briiing.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to drag my brain from a disturbing dream.What time is it? Am I late for my shift?
