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He swings the door open, and the odd state of the interior stops us both in our tracks.
“Shit, the wind must’ve knocked the lights out,” he says, rushing inside. “I’ll go get the emergency supplies. You stay here.”
Shutting out the cold, I step inside and clutch the food. I swallow, looking around as I press my back to the door.
No windows line the foyer. The grand staircase looms before me, winding up into a pitch-black space that makes my insides curl.
To my left is the archway that leads into a front sitting room with magnificent bay windows, but they’re covered with white sheets, like the rest of the house and its furniture.
I sometimes wonder if my room is the only one absent from coverings and gloom.
A crash sounds to my right, from the informal living room, and I back into the door, pressing my body as close to the wood as I can, the scent of egg rolls permeating my nose as I hug the box tighter.
“Kyrin?”
“Not Kyrin,” the deep, gnarled voice says, and I want to scream, but I can’t get the sound to unfurl from my throat.
A quake settles in my bones, lacing its arms around the fear and adrenaline coursing through my body, creating the perfect storm that keeps me frozen in place as my eyes track a shadow moving through the living room.
It’s tall, taller than Kyrin and Elias, who are both over six feet themselves. It’s darker than the surrounding darkness, blending almost perfectly as if the night is where it belongs.
“Who are you?” I manage, too scared to move.
“Not Kyrin.” This time, the statement is taunting, like the shadow is fucking with me.
If I had more will, it would piss me off.
Instead, tears roll down my cheeks, warm and full of terror.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” I whisper as the shadow inches closer, skirting the edges of the room as if scared of me.
“No one will hurt you here, calamity.”
The words are whispered, so close to my face that I can feel the breath on my cheeks, scent the mint floating on it, and the dark spice of a body accompanying it. “The spirits love chaos.”
The presence is oppressive and solid. The cold that was around me, gnawing at my flesh, is gone, heat replacing it and bleeding through me like water boiling over.
“W-what?” I ask, opening my eyes. I need to face this. The estate illuminates at once, the lights blasting back through the space and overstimulating my nerves.
I wince against the intrusion, my eyes darting around the room and finding no one.
“What the fuck?” I whisper.
I wave my hand through the empty space before me, my brain trying to make sense of it, and I conclude I must be going insane.
“Found the problem. The main breaker was off.” Kyrin walks in, unaffected and out of breath. Sensing the energy radiating off me, he slows his steps toward me. “Sera? Are you alright?”
12
NEW BLOOD
KYRIN
The silence between us is nearly deafening. I know something happened. She had that look in her eyes, just like the others. Like she’s questioning her sanity. Unlike the others, she didn’t voice her concerns or even tell me about whatever grotesque experience she’d had while I trekked to the basement under cover of darkness. I should’ve taken her with me. I wasn’t thinking.
The house loves new victims; it always has. It’s what I worried about most when I brought her here. I don’t want it to ruin her. Though there’s something about Sera that makes me hopeful that she’s someone who can survive this place, that she’s someone who dances in the onyx flames of darkness, instead of running from them.
I shake the superstitious thought away, even though I’ve witnessed the cruelty this estate can dole out firsthand.
