Page 133 of Life and Death

She stared at me thoughtfully for a moment before she answered. “She wanted to tell me some news. She didn’t know if it was something I would share with you.”

“Will you?”

“It’s probably a good idea. My behavior might be a little . . . odd for the next few days—or weeks. A little maniacal. So it’s best if I explain myself beforehand.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, exactly. Archie just sees some visitors coming soon. They know we’re here, and they’re curious.”

“Visitors?”

“Yes . . . like us, but not. Their hunting habits are not like ours, I mean. They probably won’t come into town at all, but I won’t be letting you out of my sight till they’re gone.”

“Wow. Shouldn’t we . . . I mean, is there a way to warn people?”

Her face was serious and sad. “Carine will ask them not to hunt nearby, as a courtesy, and most likely they won’t have a problem with that. But we can’t do more, for a variety of reasons.” She sighed. “They won’t be hunting here, but they’ll be hunting somewhere. That’s just how things are when you live in a world with monsters.”

I shivered.

“Finally, a rational response,” she murmured. “I was beginning to think you had no sense of self-preservation at all.”

I let that one pass, looking away, my eyes wandering again around the big white room.

“It’s not what you expected, is it?” she asked, and her voice was amused again.

“No,” I admitted.

“No coffins, no piled skulls in the corners; I don’t even think we have cobwebs . . . what a disappointment this must be for you.”

I ignored her teasing. “I didn’t expect it to be so light and so . . . open.”

She was more serious when she answered. “It’s the one place we never have to hide.”

My song drifted to an end, the final chords shifting to a more melancholy key. The last note lingered for a long moment, and something about the sound of that single note was so sad that a lump formed in my throat.

I cleared it out, then said, “Thank you.”

It seemed like the music had affected her, too. She stared searchingly at me for a long moment, and then she shook her head and sighed.

“Would you like to see the rest of the house?” she asked.

“Will there be piled skulls in any corners?”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Well, okay, but my expectations are pretty low now.”

We walked up the wide staircase hand in hand. My free hand trailed along the satin-smooth rail. The hall at the top of the stairs was paneled in wood the same pale color as the floorboards.

She gestured as we passed the doors. “Royal and Eleanor’s room . . . Carine’s office . . . Archie’s room . . .”

She would have continued, but I stopped dead at the end of the hall, staring with raised eyebrows at the ornament hanging on the wall above my head. Edythe laughed at my expression.

“Ironic, I know,” she said.

“It must be very old,” I guessed. I kind of wanted to touch it, to see if the dark patina was as silky as it looked, but I could tell it was pretty valuable.

She shrugged. “Early sixteen-thirties, more or less.”