Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I leaned against the shut door of the dining room for a minute, calming myself. I needed to get to the bottom of what I'd been speaking about with Maxwell before Lady Luna had interrupted. Why was Emmett so interested in this occult scholar? Lord Boulliard must have been involved with the robed men who'd been after me when I'd been a vampire. Had Emmett stumbled upon knowledge that had made him a threat to them? Had he overheard something in that dining room? If so, it was knowledge that Flora was also privy to.

I took a step toward the game room, but hesitated as my eyes fell on the closet with the spy post behind it. Perhaps Emmett had left some clue behind. Ensuring no one was around, I threw open the closet, my gaze alighting on an oil lamp and flint that I quickly made use of. I found the stone that triggered the back panel to slide aside and stepped into the cramped room beyond. Now that I had a light, I could see it was a perfectly ordinary space. It was dirty, with cobwebs thick in the corners, but aside from the peepholes, nothing stood out to me. I didn't know what I'd expected—perhaps a hidden message or a dropped paper. I would have to leave disappointed.

I took a moment to align my eyes with the spy holes as voices from beyond drifted to me.

"You say he's related to Lady Grafton?" Lady Luna asked Flora, face pinched. "Lady Grafton never mentioned him to me before."

"They seem on very good terms," Flora shrugged. "She dotes on him like he was her own son, if you ask me."

"I know that look," Zachariah said, wagging a finger at Luna. "When I first met him, I thought he was hiding something too. But I think he's just a naughty boy. Can hardly blame him with a face like that."

"He is an interesting young man," Lord Boulliard professed, scratching his beard. "Very exact. He could be an asset to the family, if you want my opinion. You say he fared well at the hunt?"

"Well enough to demonstrate his competence," Flora confirmed. "He's performed well at every challenge. In fact, his performance at the ball was nothing short of spectacular."

I frowned. I didn't like hearing people scrutinizing me, but I was thankful I could count on Zachariah to defend my good name.

"And anyway," Flora said, turning back to Lady Luna, "the boys seem very taken with him, and I think he's a good influence on them. The three never spent much time together before. I think Emmett dominated Maxwell's attentions. Meanwhile, Ambrose is always so busy." She shrugged. "They find time to spend with Lucian, however."

The conversation turned to other matters, and I gathered myself to leave the room before I was caught spying.

As I was about to turn off the oil lamp, I glanced up the hallway, where I recalled the second spy post was hidden. Perhaps Stuart had meant that one. It wouldn't hurt to investigate.

Closing the first spy post behind me, I crossed over to the wall and found the notch on the base board. A click resounded, the wall pushing out into the hall a few inches to show me where the seam of the hidden door lay. At that moment, the door to the dining room opened, and I heard Flora's tinkling laugh. I wasted no time opening the hidden door and slipping inside, closing it firmly behind me to avoid detection.

I leaned my ear against the door briefly as muffled voices passed, before turning to regard the room. Since I had a light this time, I could discern this room wasn't as dusty as the other hidden room, as if frequented more. I walked along the left wall until I found the spy holes, peering into the dining room to find two servants cleaning the table already.

I spun slowly in place and held the lamp out, looking for any signs of anything left behind, when the light reflected on something metallic. Curious, I strode to the other side of the room, gazing down on an iron handle I'd missed previously. I stooped lower to illuminate a trapdoor, its edges barely visible to my light.

"And where do you lead?" I asked, setting the lamp down to pull on the handle. A square of thick-cut stone lifted with a squeak of rusty hinges, revealing a short ladder, then stone steps leading down into a dark passage. Perhaps I had this all wrong, and Emmett had merely been using these stairs when Stuart glimpsed him. Perhaps he hadn't been spying on Lord Boulliard at all.

I descended the ladder, my feet finding a stone step as I slipped down onto solid ground. The stairway narrowed with steep steps, my footfalls echoing around me loudly. If anyone lay at the bottom, I hoped they wouldn't hear me, and that it was my paranoia that made all of my movements seem so loud.

When I reached the bottom, I hesitated as my lamp teased out the shape of a large room. No other lights appeared, and I took that as a sign that I was alone, at least for the moment. I took a brazen step into the room then paused, turning up the strength of my light to see a ring painted onto the stone floor, with several circles overlapping across its interior. Some sort of occult symbol?

I walked around the edge of the circle before I noticed old bloodstains on the stone.

"What is this?" I wondered aloud, looking up to find several doorways lining the room.

I ventured through the first doorway to find iron cages, chains, nets, and coils of rope. Several lengths of chain were made of silver.

The hair at the back of my neck stood on end as I entered the next room. Tables with grinding stones sat in the middle of the room, while shelving units lined the walls. I stalked to the closest cabinet, and finding no locks preventing my perusal, threw it open.

Three crossbow of various sizes. Bolts of silver and wood in pots beneath them.

I swallowed hard, eyes lingering on the wood bolts.

The next cabinet contained swords and daggers. The next, axes and spears.

I opened each subsequent shelf with more force, taking in the maces and staffs and bladed gauntlets. Halfway through my search, I stopped dead to stare at a shelf lined with only wooden stakes and mallets.

"Fuck," I whispered into the room. "The vampire hunters."

Of course, that wasn't completely accurate. The silver and variety of weapons suggested they hunted other creatures as well, but it was clear that these were tools to destroy the supernatural. Was the whole neighborhood in on this?

I suddenly felt as though I was being watched and shone the lamp back toward the cages. In a birdcage, two eyes reflected the light like a cat. But this was no cat. The ghoul held preternaturally still, watching me as I slowly approached. There was a bowl with murky water at its feet and another containing a half-eaten sheep's head, the flesh cleaned so that its teeth gleamed eerily from one side.

As I drew nearer, I noticed the burn marks on its flesh, all across its arms, as if it had been used to stub out cigars. I closed my eyes. It likely had. I'd done that to my victims. I had burned them with worse, actual cattle irons.

I sighed, glancing up and staring at the symbol of a moth high on the wall before me. Its wings seemed to be shaped from dried meat, its head the skull from a ghoul long dead, while its slim body was made from a perfectly-crafted wooden stake.

Jaw set, I left the room to peer into another. Cloaks hung silently from hooks all along one wall. Cloaks with red moths stitched onto them. And on shelves across from them, masks of predatory animals. Jaguars, wolves, lions, bears, hyenas. My eyes stilled on one that looked like it could have been a boar, but was roughly the shape of a wolf. I'd seen that mask before. Maxwell's cousin had worn it at the masquerade at the first ball. It had been staring me in the face since day one.

I leaned against the wall for support as the implications of my discovery washed over me. These rooms below Hargrove Manor made it clear that the duke was a vampire hunter. Lord Boulliard's visits only confirmed that. The robed men were based here, right under my nose. The same men who'd driven me from my castle, whom I'd promised to destroy.

I closed my eyes as I realized Ambrose must be a part of this cult. He'd been speaking to that blond man about kidnapping Emmett. But why? Had Emmett learned of this secret order and planned to let the public know? Was that why he'd been taken away? And why had they also tried to kidnap Maxwell?

Maxwell. My heart stuttered in my chest before I recalled that Maxwell hadn't recognized the red moth on the men's robes. He wasn't a part of this. Thank the gods. But if this was a family affair, it would be only a matter of time before he was taken into the fold. Meanwhile, Ambrose was already among them. I didn't feel so bad for using him for my own reasons now that I knew his true nature. And it wasn't the blow it would have been if I'd discovered Maxwell's involvement in this. Still, it was hurtful, even if I had already been made aware of their feelings for vampires. This only confirmed that Ambrose and the duke, at least, hated my kind so much they would go to the ends of the Earth to destroy them.

I felt like a fool for not seeing the signs sooner: The family hunting ghouls for sport, the fencing, the archery, the occult books. Maxwell was already being groomed for the part he would play in the future. I recalled how Ambrose had been impressed with how I'd handled Raven and his praise of me to the duke. He'd wanted the duke to know that I was a worthy match. That if I joined this family, I could have a place among this cult of fools.

I laughed. I laughed so hard my sides began to ache and tears streamed down my face. The irony of this. It was all so beautifully wrong and so terribly right at the same time. I'd been courting a vampire hunter!

As I sobered, the irony I felt began to darken. I had felt things for these humans. But they were just butchers in the end. The only difference between them and my kind was that vampires had the power to indulge their violent tendencies without recourse. If humans were as powerful, they would do the same. Perhaps that was how I'd become what I was. Power.

I threw the oil lamp into the room as hard as I could, aiming for the robes. As the glass shattered, splattering oil over the clothes, they caught fire immediately, the flames licking at the fabric eagerly, burning through the embroidered moths, leaping from one robe to the next. It was just too bad those who'd worn them weren't in them to burn as well. The only thing missing from this scene were their screams.

I returned to the previous room, snatching a dagger from a shelf and breaking the lock off of the birdcage with ease. The ghoul watched it drop to the ground with a clatter before I opened the door.

"Go on, then," I told it. "Get out if you can."

The ghoul wasted no time, darting out and melting into the darkness.

As smoke began to pour from the room, I strode up the staircase, but paused as I realized this wasn't the staircase I had come down earlier. I hesitated, but pushed on, even as it became too dark to see properly. Smoke filled the corridor I climbed, tickling my lungs until they began to burn. I coughed, lightly at first, but then found I couldn't stop. Blindly, I climbed the steps until I pushed on solid rock. I felt lightheaded, the smoke growing thicker with every second that passed. I needed to get out now. Something scrambled nearby and I realized it was the ghoul I'd released. It pushed its small frame against the stone, as if its weight would make any difference at all. I appreciated its fight and resolved to offer my own.

I turned and pushed my back against the stone, lifting a trapdoor that swung up and out under my weight with a groan of protest. Then, I found myself stumbling out into the night air, body wracked with fits of coughing. I collapsed, turning to look up at the sky, and realized I was in an obscure part of the garden. A statue of an angel stared down at me, fighting a snake wrapped around her arm and torso, teeth bared to strike. The ghoul paused briefly over me before it slipped into the shadows of nearby trees.

I heard shouts in the darkness, and I forced myself to move, suppressing my coughs as I embraced the arms of darkness, cloaking me in its folds as if welcoming home a lost child.