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A tinkling laugh rises from behind me.

I pause, glancing over my shoulder. There’s no one there—at least, no one walking or talking.

I begin to move again, my muscles now tense. I’m spooked and imagining things.

“Slave …”

I pause midstep, my eyes going wide as they meet Des’s.

He puts a finger to his lips. A split second later he evaporates into smoke.

Shit. Where’d he go?

A spectral breath tickles my cheek, laughing softly, and I realize right about now that I might have bigger problems.

I twist around, sure I will find someone standing next to me. But no one’s there.

Another laugh rises from the depths of the room, followed by a hum. The voice comes from nowhere and everywhere. It’s all around me, multiplying on itself.

Sleep fair one,

Or are you afraid?

This is a game in which,

You are far outplayed.

I glance around for the singer, but I already know this is some sort of magic beyond my comprehension.

A phantom hand strokes my hair.

You ask us to wake,

When we want you to sleep,

Secrets are meant,

For one soul to keep.

So sing your songs,

And rhyme your rhymes,

He’s coming for you,

These are dark times.

The singing dies away until the room is quiet once more.

“Holy fuck,” I breathe.

Time to get the hell out of this place.

I eye the coffins as I pass row after row of them, expecting any second for these women to attack me.

Just had to stir up trouble, didn’t you, Callie?

Ahead of me the shadows swirl together, coalescing into a winged man.