He could imagine it, too. Nadine laid out before him like a feast as he plundered what little innocence that remained to her. But he had spent too many years in this house to feel any trust when what he wanted most was offered to him, and he could not take her while she was looking at him like that. “How brave of you,” he said. “I’ll be generous, then. Come to the woods with me, and I will.”
Her eyes flew to the shadowy windows. “Now?”
“Not now. Later. When I ask.”
When I feel like tormenting us both.
“Are you going to hurt me?”
“No more than I already have.” Cal straightened the pictures in their frames, looking at all those unsmiling faces frozen into what might as well have been a death’s mask. It was strange, he thought. The animals looked more alive than the people did.
“Okay,” she said shakily. “F-fine. Deal.”
“Good. I look forward to it.”
She shot him an uneasy glance. It was clear from her expression that she’d thought he planned to throw her up against one of the walls right here. “Tell me about Noelle.”
“Are you quite sure you want to know the truth, Nadine?” He recaptured her hand, giving it a light squeeze. “Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise.”
“I have to know. It’s why I came here.”
“Very well. Come with me—don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Nadine trailed after him as he exited the parlor. The sun was setting, even though it felt much later. The days lasted forever up here in the summer—until they didn’t, and the sun spilled out the last remnants of its viscous light like a runny yolk over the horizon.
“My favorite time of day,” he said impulsively. “Who dare say the sun false? He and no other warns us when dark uprising threaten, when treachery and hidden wars are gathering strength.”
“What?”
“Just more pagan nonsense, little sparrow.” He pivoted her towards the kitchen. “You went to college. Didn’t you ever study the classics?”
“I took a medieval lit class.”
He almost grinned, but then his eyes caught on the scratched and pitted door to the basement and his amusement was leached from him. A cold draft of air blew out like a breath as he pulled open the door.
Nadine stared wordlessly into the darkness, her arm stiffening beneath his hand, and Cal felt a wave of apprehension at what he was about to show her.
He hadn’t been in here since that night.
“Hold on to me. It’s dark down here and you’ve had far too much wine.”
“No such thing in this place.”
“My mother and brother would agree with you,” he said grimly.
Nadine grabbed his arm, twining hers through his, and the feel of her pressing up against him for reassurance gave himpause. He hadn’t been prepared for this, or how much he wanted it. He turned on his phone’s flashlight to illuminate their path, the stone steps glowing faintly in the wash of silvery-blue light.
“Why is it so cold down here?” she whispered.
“To keep things from decomposing.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Animal flesh.”
It was true what he had told her a year ago: his family did prepare and cure their own meat down here. Fine salts and spices were stored against the far wall in barrels, and there were stainless steel implements for sawing through tissue and bone. A ferric tang clung to the draft, filling his mouth with the shallow echoes of blood.
Nadine’s eyes landed on a box, which had been prized open. It had less dust than some of the other things stored down here and her eyes widened as she read the label.
