“Wasn’t there a hidden passageway connected to it?” Rosie asked.
Her brother nodded. “I’m pretty sure we can get to the lower levels from there.”
“Perfect,” I said, more to myself than anything, as I let them take lead. The buzzing didn’t so much grow stronger as remain consistent. I took that to mean we were going in the right direction, but not in the immediate vicinity of the weapon.
“Careful, there’s a hidden staircase somewhere nearby. The walls aren’t here to help us find it,” Rosie warned. “It would be easy to fall in if one wasn’t looking where one stepped.”
Grateful for the heads-up, I kept my eyes peeled as we carefully navigated our way through the rubble. It was all of two minutes before said staircase made itself known.
“Over here,” Thorne called, quickly bending down and grabbing what appeared to be the better part of a rafter before tossing it aside and clearing the path.
As though the floodgates had been opened, the buzzing grew stronger as soon as the stairwell was exposed. Every step down the stairs amplified the sensation.
“It’s here. I can feel it.”
We didn’t stop until we were outside a heavy steel door, the metal untouched by flames.
Thorne kicked the door with all his might, breaking it off its hinges as he did.
“That’s one way to get inside,” Remi muttered. “Could’ve just used those keys hanging next to it, but hey, that’s just me.”
The buzz became a hum of just the right frequency in my bones. I followed it, knowing the weapon would be waiting for me inside that room. As I stepped inside, my gaze instantly landed on a stack of wooden crates. It was somewhere inside one of them. I’d never been more certain of anything aside from Merri in my long life.
“I feel strange,” Merri said, her voice small and laced with concern.
I wondered if she was also picking up on the weapon now that we were so close. I took a step toward the crates, feeling an undeniable pull toward them, but also glanced over my shoulder to check on her.
“Kit—”
I didn’t get a chance to finish speaking before Merri and Grim—who had tucked her into his side—both vanished from the room.
Chapter
Thirty-Two
GRIM
One moment we were standing in the bowels of Blackthorne Manor, the next Merri and I were on what appeared to be a hilltop on the cusp of a storm. I didn’t recognize the landscape, but the tremor beneath my feet and the crack of thunder in the sky didn’t fill me with optimism. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end a split second before lightning arced overhead.
“Where are we?” Merri whispered, holding onto me for dear life.
“I haven’t a clue.”
A series of low, pained groans pulled my attention behind us, where four figures were getting to their feet. It took me a moment to recognize them in the dark, but once I realized who they were, my already heightened defenses went on maximum alert. Asher, Pan, Sunday, and Dahlia were all here with us.
That they were all heirs was no coincidence. The horsewomen were clearly behind this.
Those bitches were right cunts.
“Grim... this is strange.” Merri’s voice was low and measured as the rest of the group approached.
“Uh, guys, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” Asher said.
“We were never in Kansas,” Pan grumbled.
Asher let out a heavy sigh. “Not the point, man.”
“Ah, of course, another pop culture reference.”
