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She doesn’t move right away. I reach forward and close the folder.

It’s done.

She’s mine. As if there were any doubt.

“Come,” I say, moving towards the wall of bookcases. “I’ll take you back to the Boltons.”

Her brows pull together. “Already?”

Warm, dark satisfaction moves through my chest. She’d rather stay with me, even now. Even after all of that.

“I’ll steal you away soon enough.”

I reach for a silver trophy on the shelf. A polished sphere mounted on dark wood. Tennis doubles champions. Elias and Anna Crotavere.

I twist the sphere.

The bookcase shudders and slides aside with a mechanical groan.

A tunnel opens beyond it.

A narrow passage is carved into the bluff. Stone walls lit by a line of lights that never falter. It’s a gentle slope down, heading into town.

Zaiya stands slowly, staring into it, her lips parting.

She looks up at me as she comes closer, then back into the passage as if she’s trying to decide if she’s dreaming.

I guide her into the tunnel, her hand firm in mine.

Next time, I won’t let them doubt her.

Next time, I’ll make her show them exactly why they should be afraid.

She isn’t merely passing through my world. I’m letting it close around her.

CHAPTER 21

EDWIN

The door slides shut behind us with a hollow thud, sealing the manor away like a tomb. Down here, everything smells of stone and damp earth. That stale basement musk. Zaiya tightens her hold on my arm as I guide her down the slope. Yellowed lights mounted in the rock cast a glow ahead of us, enough to keep the dark from consuming the path.

“These were dug out to connect the house to the hotel at first,” I say. My voice carries in the tunnels, flattened and thrown back at me. “Then Elias expanded them. Under streets. Under buildings. Anywhere he needed something moved unseen.”

She looks around with a wonder I haven’t felt in decades. Young eyes that have hardly seen anything beyond her childhood home.

A current of cold air slips through and brushes her bare arms.

She shivers. “Is there always a draft?”

I don’t explain what I think it is. Best not to put ideas in her head.

“My mother used to disappear down here,” I say as we keep walking. “Sometimes for hours.”

Zaiya’s hand tightens around mine, and she offers a small smile.

I let the silence stretch a few more steps before I add, “This part runs beneath where she landed.”

Her smile drops. Now she can’t look at me.