“Do you see it?” I jabbed a finger at the attic window.
“See what?”
“That face in my bedroom. It was looking right at us—” The face had gone.
“I don’t see anything— hey, where are you going?”
I took off at a run toward the house, my heart pounding in my chest.Oh, no you don’t.
There was only one staircase up to the attic. If I could get there fast enough, I’d be able to see who came down. I threw open the kitchen door. It slammed shut behind me as I barreled through the kitchen, taking the shortcut through the servants’ corridor to the main entrance hall. As I took the stairs two at a time, Heather’s tinkling laugh floated up from the Blue Room, and the unmistakable flutter of notes that could have only been Elena. So it wasn’t either of them – no way would they have been fast enough to get to those rooms without me seeing or hearing them.
I reached the second landing and glanced around. None of the bedrooms were open, and no one stood around in the hall.Maybe they’re still up there, trying to hide. I jangled the keyring in my pocket. They weren’t getting away this time.
“I know you’re up there,” I called, trying to keep my voice steady as I took the steps two at a time. On the top landing, I paused, my ears prickling. All was silent.
Too silent.
My heart plummeted in my chest as I realized there was no light shining through the crack under my door. I shoved my key into the brand new lock and slowly, cautiously, pushed it open.
The light in my room had been turned off.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Faye
Shit.
I flicked the light on, stepping boldly into the room even though my heart hammered against my chest. “All right, you can come out now.”
My eyes swept over my furniture. Had I left the books like that? Was my underwear drawer supposed to be half-open? What about that dent in the bed? Everything felt tainted, befouled, because Iknewsomeone had been in here.
How did they get in? How could they have a key to my new lock?
I looked into every dark corner and in every conceivable hiding place, my ears pricked for the sound of someone fleeing back down the stairs. But there was nothing. The room was empty.
Of course, they wouldn’t hide in here. They must be in the storage room. They know I don’t have a key.
I held up my phone’s flashlight to the storage room’s large keyhole and tried to peer inside, but it was so dark all I could see was the pale silhouette of the moon through the window behind slacks of boxes and old furniture. If they were still inside, they weren’t moving.
“I know you’re in there.” I hit the door with my fists. “Show yourself.”
The fear tightening my chest turned to anger.This is ridiculous. They’re not in here. They must have slipped down while I was in my room. They’re probably great at sneaking for all the nights they climb up here without me catching them. In fact, this is an old house – there’s probably a secret passage or something. There’s always a secret passage in the movies.
I turned on my heel and stormed downstairs. I stormed toward Dorien’s door, but his voice floated up from the Blue Room below.It can’t be him, then. But I know who it has to be.
I grabbed the handle of Titus’ room and turned, expecting it to be locked. The door flung open, and I stumbled through it, my foot catching on the edge of the rug and sending me spinning. My knee cracked against a metal bed-frame, and my hands skimmed something large and warm as I struggled for balance.
Sheets rustled. “What the fuck?” Titus’ face appeared over the side of the bed as I rolled over, my knee throbbing.
“Don’t you ‘what the fuck’ me.” I got to my feet with as much dignity as I could muster and leaned over the bed, hands on hips, legs wide, making myself bigger the way a cat fluffed up their fur before they went into battle with a pitbull. “You were in my room just now. And you sneak into the storage room at night. Iheardyou—”
I’d intended to threaten Titus with the police, with anything I could to get him to stop breaking into my room and stomping around in the storage room. Now that I was in here, and he stared up at me with tangled eyelashes and a pillow crease across his cheekbone, his sheet slipping down over his gloriously tattooed torso, the words dried on my throat.
Titus rubbed his eyes. He certainlyseemedlike he’d been asleep. But I hadn’t imagined the face or the light going off in my room. And he admitted to being there once before.
Before I could find the words, Titus’ hand shot out, circling my wrist. He rose up from between the sheets, revealing tattoos of snakes twining over his dark skin and abs that belonged on a bodybuilder. How did a dude get that toned playing cello? My fingers itched to touch Titus’ skin, to drag my nails over those snakes, to watch them dance as he rolled on top of me and…
Titus leaned so close his breath kissed my lips. The air between us sizzled with tension. I didn’t know what would happen next, what Iwantedto happen next.
