The closeness of their names does not escape me and even though I don’t want to find out more—I remember how Sullen desperately wished to keep me away from the doctor’s clutches—I still demand, “Tell me about him. Why did he throw a knife at us? Why did he miss?”Whose blood was on the blade?I don’t ask the last part out loud.
I think I already know. I think it’s the one Stein used to stab his own son.
Sanford shakes his head once. “There is nothing to tell. Not from me. His existence, his origin, it is a mystery to me as well as you. He was not in the picture when I was still… living.”
“He chased us with aknife.”It’s still in the bag, set along the bench at the end of the bed. I had to put it away before we got into the first cab that took us to the train.
“I’m aware,” Sanford says softly. “It’s a good thing he has poor aim.”
“But does he?” I counter, reiterating my original questions. “Or did he intentionally miss?” My mind drifts to the prognosticator Stein was scheduled to see.
Sanford shrugs. “I know nothing about Klein save for his name. You’re wasting time asking after him.”
I grit my teeth but decide he’s right. I want answers, and if he doesn’t have them about the doctor, he must know other things. I move on swiftly. “Stein said helet you out,then you disappeared when you knew Stein was going to do something vile to Sullen. How did you manage that?” I snap, keeping my voice low but vicious, my gaze narrowed and my body vibrating with anger. I don’t know who I’m most mad at. My friends, for not believing me. My parents for the same. Sanford, for abandoning Sullen and making me look crazy. Stein goes without saying, but if he isn’t dead yet, I’m not sure he’s not fucking immortal.
“There are many traps and secrets and terrors inside each Hotel Number Seven, Karia,” Sanford says lowly, his tongue hitting the bottom of his top teeth when he enunciates my name.
I glance behind him, to the burgundy damask wallpaper, the golden, electric scones on the wall. At any moment, it’s as if I am anticipating the lights will go out. Another monster will emerge from the shadows, ready to rip mine away from me.
I tense, staring back at Sanford once more. “So you fell through a trapdoor, is that it?”
A small smile curls his lips and I’m reminded so forcefully of Sullen, it unnerves me. I could never hatehim,but I don’t want to feel any warmth for his grandfather until I know he’s not about to lead us to something darker.
“Perhaps,” he answers quietly.
“And, what? Before that, you were locked away back in downtown Alexandria until your son let you out like a guard dog? You were sent to play fetch with your own grandson? I thought you despised Stein. He killed your wife.”
Here, his gaze darkens and his brows pull together, but he doesn’t interrupt me and I don’t give him much of a chance anyway.
“So which is it? You roam beneath the hallways of Number Seven befriending serpents and rats as eternal punishment from Stein the Sadist, or you’re full of shit and you do his bidding when he calls on you?” I tighten my arms over my chest, and not from fear. So I don’t fucking swing at the older man and tell him to stop playing games. I’m tired, delirious, confused, and if one thing would make sense for me, I’d be able to curl up next to Sullen all night andrest.“And if you’re so good at popping down into hidden doors in the floorboards, why did Stein have toletyou out at all? Why couldn’t you crawl out yourself? You ran with us, kept up, dragged your body out of a well. Make some of this shit make sense, or we’ll leave without you.”
He cocks his head, a strand of brown-gray hair falling over one brow, giving him the appearance of someone much younger. “If you think Stein is incapable of keeping people trapped exactly where he wants them, then you are in over your head.” He nods toward Sullen’s sleeping form at my back without looking away from me. “His body should have told you the stories even if he can’t bear to speak them himself.”
My face heats and I swallow hard, wondering if he thinks we’ve slept together. If I’ve seen him naked. Sure, I know of some of his marks, but it’s just thewaySanford said it, I want to slam the door in his face.
His eyes roam over my cheeks and he correctly infers what I’m thinking because he adds, “Well, I suppose I’m not surprised. Why would he trust anyone enough for that?” The last part he seems to ask himself, glancing at the red carpet beneath our feet for one second before flicking his gaze up to mine.
“I don’t think you need to be imagining your grandson’s sex life,” I spit out. Maybe because I’m embarrassed. Maybebecause I’m worried that the fact Sullen doesn’t trust me, despite what I’ve done for him, means he never will. Or perhaps it’s something more twisted, inside my head.I think because he doesn’t want to sleep with me, he doesn’t care for me at all.I’ve used sex to get close to Von, to Cosmo, and what do I have to offer without it?Pathetic.The word echoes in my head.
Sanford rolls his eyes and it’s almost amusing. “Regardless, sometimes you have to play the long game, particularly when you’re dealing with someone with no moral compass.” He looks down his nose at me. “What should matter to you is this: I opened the door in the dungeon you were too naive to find the switch for.Iturned on the power to make it work.I?—”
“Was it you all along? Fucking with the power at the hotel?” I ignore everything else he said, wanting concrete answers so I can inform Sullen in the morning.
Sanford shakes his head once. “Not always.”
“Then who else?”
“The door won’t slide open without electricity. It was Stein’s way of keeping him trapped.”
“And before? When the lights went out as you found us in the hotel room?”
A small smile tugs on his lips. “I feel more comfortable in the dark. Besides, you’re welcome, for the warning.”
My skin crawls even though his words aren’t that frightening. Maybe it’s the memory of what I desperately wanted to do for Sullen just before the power went out again when we were cloistered in that shower together. The sensation of nearly having everything I had wanted foryears,only to have it ripped away in the most macabre form.
“In the morning, I have to speak to him,” Sanford presses.
I shake my head once, standing more fully in the doorway as if I will physically block his entrance, and if he tried to push past me, I would. “You abandoned him. You didn’t choose him. Youlefthim to be tortured by a psychopath for over two decades. What makes you think you haveanyright to barge into his life now, leading us to a place we should avoid at all costs?”
