Page 137

“Pye—”

“I’ll get her.” He snagged the flashlight from Cleo’s hand. “Stay here.”

“In the dark? How about no. The door, Owen, the Gold Room door.”

“I see it.”

He could hardly miss the fiery red glow around it or the way the wood pulsed. Or the smoke that billowed out from it.

The cat stood less than a foot away, back arched.

“Stay behind me.”

“Because you have a penis?”

“We can go with that. I also have the light, and I’m keeping it.”

He didn’t bother to call the cat. In his experience cats came and went as they damn well pleased. And this one was currently very pissed.

Instead, he sang, his voice calm as a lake even as he lifted it over the storm.

“Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.”

On a glimmer of understanding, Cleo sang with him.

The cat looked in their direction, and as they walked closer, her back relaxed.

“Yesterday came suddenly.” On that, Owen scooped up the cat.

The door swung open. He didn’t see Dobbs, saw nothing but dark. But he heard her.

“Poole blood will run like a river. I’ll bathe in it.”

“Well, that’s disgusting.” He handed the cat to Cleo, who murmured in his ear:

“Don’t you dare go in there.”

As she spoke, the door slammed shut. The storm died; the lights flashed on.

“Show’s over,” Owen decided.

“I couldn’t let Pye just—Oh God, Sonya. Trey.”

“We’re fine, they’ll be fine.” Or nothing would stop him from going in that room. “Let’s go.”

When she heard their voices calling, Cleo closed her eyes in relief. Then setting the cat down, threw her arms around Sonya when they met on the second floor.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I broke the first rule. Stay together.”

“I’d have done the same. You’re all right?”

“Yes, we’re all okay. You?”

“Yes. It didn’t stop when we opened the door. It got worse. But it stopped when we finally got it closed again. We’re okay. Everyone’s okay.”

She reached back for Trey’s hand, dropped it again when he hissed.

“Are you hurt? What—your hand!”