“I don’t know.”It could have been anything, but it was so loud, it shook the foundation.“It came from downstairs.”I stare at the door, then slip the gun into my waistband and take her hand.“Come on.”I pull her from the room and jog down the landing, Hayami behind me, her gun still in her hand.
We reach the stairs, run down the first set, then turn and begin our descent on the second set.Then we both freeze, Hayami one step behind me.
Fuck.
She sees it.
I can tell she does because her arm tenses, her hand grips mine, and her body goes rigid, mirroring my own.
She seesher.
And I don’t know why I’m shocked by this, byher.
There’s been so much weird shit going on that this shouldn’t be a surprise.But she’s never appeared before us.Not even Junko saw her.The only person who did was Kevin’s father.But she’s here, clear as day, her body floating ten inches above the ground, her hair coiled around her shoulders, the gash across her face like someone has thrown a can of red paint at her beautiful portrait.
There’s no expression.How can there be when half her face is missing?But her eyes are wide, ghastly, as if she’s the one who’s afraid of us.
“Fenrir,” Hayami whispers, her voice barely audible above the beating of my heart.
“I see her.Do you see her?”
“Yes.”
I’m not imagining things.
We can’t just stand here.I hold up my hand, palm flat out in front of me, ready to say something.
“We come in peace.We mean you no harm.What the fuck do you want?”
I have no idea what to say to the ghost of this house, to the woman who was brutally disfigured and murdered by her husband, the spirit who seems intent on telling us something, on trying to speak to us from beyond the grave.
But before I open my mouth, she turns around with a graceful fluidity to face the door.I don’t have time to wonder what she’s doing before the door opens.
FIFTY-SIX
FENRIR
PRESENT
It hits me—itisn’t fear I’ve been feeling in this house.Well, that’s not strictly true.I’ve felt fear before: core-crunching, adrenaline-pumping, sweat-inducing fear.But not my own.This house contains fear—it’s drenched in it—but it’s never been one that felt harmful.I’ve never felt in danger.
Until now.
We stare at the figure in the doorway, his large frame obscured by the darkness of the night sky behind him.
Hayami’s hand tenses in mine, and I squeeze it, letting her know I’m here and I won’t let him near her, because Barrett Devall is standing in the entrance like the goddamn devil himself.
Markus arrives on his left, gun trained, trying to push in front of his boss until his eyes land on the apparition.Then he backs off.Junko enters on the right, her eyes wide in terror as she sees the floating spectre.But Devall is frozen, feet in cement as he stares at the ghost of his dead wife.
The silence is thick and dangerous, Noa with her back to us.
“Noa?”Devall asks, barely a whisper, as if he can’t quite believe his own eyes.
Then it happens in what feels like slow motion.Noa turns, like a tornado shifting direction, and she flies over to us, her face a contorted rage.I don’t have time to act, no time to think, as Noa flings herself at Hayami.
Hayami stumbles back at the impact as Noa disappears.
She gasps, eyes wide, and she drops my hand.
