She couldn’t catch her breath, and tears were welling in her eyes from sheer terror. This was the third time she’d experienced the feeling of being choked to death.
St. Silas was beside her in an instant, tension tightening his face.
“What is it? What’s wrong? You are hurt,” he demanded, bending near her as blood splattered on his collar.
Rami wasted no time in reaching into her pocket and thrusting two copper coins toward St. Silas.
St. Silas understood and struck them together furiously.
The blood flow stemmed instantly, and Leena was able to grasp her first gulp of air after what felt like years.
“Are you possessed?Is she possessed?” St. Silas turned to Rami once he was more certain that Leena could breathe.
“I don’t know,” was Rami’s frantic reply. “Leena?” He reached into his pocket and handed her his handkerchief.
She didn’t immediately respond as she wiped her nose and chin. She was unsure if she had been possessed. It hadn’tfeltlike a normal possession. She had been mistress of her own faculties throughout, she had been grounded in her surroundings and could control her own limbs without resistance.
And yet—
It was as if something had been hemorrhaging her from the inside, turning her vital organs against her.
It was certainly not the explosion that had caused it, as she’d first predicted, but perhapssomethinghad awoken because ofit.
She brought a shaking hand to her forehead.
“Leena?” St. Silas urged.
“I’m here. It’s me,” she responded, removing her hand from her forehead in an attempt to regain some control.
St. Silas and Rami exchanged doubtful looks.
“Where did you hide the parchment that night we met Lady Hargreaves?” St. Silas asked, his intent gaze never wavering from her face.
Leena’s eyes swung to his, and even in the dimness of the corridor, her cheeks were red. “Of all the questions in the world,” she began in outrage, “thisis the one you choose?”
St. Silas looked more reassured, helping her up with a rare grin. “It’s the only one that came to mind.”
“Ofcourse.” She continued to dab the handkerchief on her clothes, the blood entirely soaking the white fabric. St. Silas handed her his own without another comment.
Once they began walking again, Leena could not focus, her mind shifting from horror to abject anger. How had she found herself, in the span of less than a week, at the mercy of two otherworldly creatures?
She was now certain that although she had not been possessed this time,somethingin these crypts was trying to harm her. Whyelse would it have responded to the copper coins? Whateveritwas, it was likely drawn to her in the same manner as the spirits aboveground. And yet, the ghosts—more often than not—had some purpose in finding her. It seemed to her that the creature in the crypts had only one intention: to harm her. Butwhy?
“Wheredidyou hide the parchment?” came Rami’s suspicious voice, breaking her thoughts.
She was glad of the shadows within the crypts, hiding another infuriating flush. St. Silas tactfully didn’t answer.
She paused. “In a hidden pouch,” she responded vaguely. “Where else?”
She could see St. Silas’s shoulders silently shaking ahead of her, and she longed to bare her teeth at him.
Leena had the lingering apprehension that whatever had tried to choke her was following them, and that the copper coins had deterred but not vanquished it. She felt a real fear that the crypts held more than the Avon family’s final resting place. She tried not to alarm the others, but she furtively threw glances around her with every turn of the passage.
It was the footsteps that had Leena jumping forcefully.
All three of them instantly halted.
There was no mistaking it—footsteps not far behind them.
