House of Shadows

by Darcie Coates

  His tone unsettled Sophie. Something in the words didn’t bode well. She was too tired to chase it, though. I’ll ask him tomorrow. Joseph’s right; tonight has been too good to ruin with worry. I should enjoy what I have now.

  Sophie kissed Joseph’s warm chest and felt him murmur happily. At that moment, everything felt right. She felt loved, warm, and secure, and she soaked up the feelings. Joseph’s caresses continued until he fell asleep a few minutes later. Sophie listened to his smooth, even breathing and pressed her hand over his heart. Its beat was strong, and she closed her eyes, rejoicing in the sensation as she let her own tiredness pull her into a deep sleep.

  CHAPTER THIRTY: The Letter

  She’d been dreading morning’s arrival, but it was still night when Sophie woke. Pale-blue moonlight sifted through the window, bathing the room in its cold glow. Joseph no longer lay next to her.

  Sophie startled upright. Even though the fire was still crackling, the air felt cold on her skin, and she pulled the blankets around her torso as she scanned the room for her husband. She was alone.

  “No…”

  Panic shoved away any remnants of tiredness. Sophie stumbled out of bed and scrambled to retrieve her dress from where Joseph had discarded it on the floor. It was dirty and scuffed from her experience in the forest, and Sophie felt heat flush her cheeks as she realised she must have looked terrible the night before.

  Joseph hadn’t noticed, though. She remembered the way he’d looked at her—as though she were the most captivating woman in the country—and her heart skipped a beat.

  Where is he? Why did he leave?

  She turned on the spot as she struggled into the dress. The clock on the mantel read a little after three in the morning. The fire was bright and hot, which meant Joseph must have put new wood on it while she was sleeping.

  Then Sophie caught sight of a piece of paper folded neatly on Joseph’s pillow. She ran to pick it up then carried back to the fire to read it in the warm glow.

  My Dearest Sophie,

  I wish I could say this to you in person, but I know you wouldn’t have let me leave. I have already asked for an unreasonable amount of forgiveness today, and I’m afraid I must now ask for more.

  You said I didn’t have to be alone. Those words have meant more to me than you can imagine, and they have given me strength and focus. But I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to fight my battles.

  You were brought into this house through my own selfish choices. I caused you suffering and condemned you to a fate no person deserves. I cannot ask you for any other sacrifice. The remedy should be mine and mine alone.

  I have gone to fight the Grimlock. If you’re reading this note, it means I have failed. Leave Northwood immediately. I believe that my death will bring about the end of your part in the Argenton contract.

  There are two ways to enter the bargain: by birth and by marriage. The Grimlock has always taken those who married into the family before taking their partners, and I have begun to suspect this means that the end of your marriage—by my death—will free you from the curse.

  There is a pouch of money on the writing table. Take it, and have Garrett arrange the carriage for you. It will take you as far as the local town, where you can hire a coach and travel to your father’s. You should be safe once you are outside Northwood’s gates.

  I am leaving you tonight with the intention of succeeding and giving us a future together. But I am also fully prepared for the worst. I didn’t want to say anything last night, while you were so hopeful, but I fear destroying the Grimlock’s heart may not be as easy as it sounds. When my mother led the attack against it, they used swords and bullets to pierce its hide. The Grimlock showed no signs of pain or fear over the assault. That makes me suspect the book was misled as to the method for killing the Grimlock. Still—I must try.

  My dearest Sophie, words cannot express how much I feel for you. During our time together, you have made me happier than I ever thought possible. My only regret is not being able to be with you longer. Do not grieve for me any more than you need to. All that I ask is for you to be safe and as happy as is possible.

  My deepest regard and love,

  Joseph.

  Sophie dropped the letter and pressed both hands over her face. She couldn’t breathe. Terror and overwhelming horror threatened to drown her.

  He can’t be gone.

  She stood and crossed the room. A pouch sat on the writing table, as Joseph had said it would. It looked full and heavy; he’d gifted her with a small fortune.

  He can’t leave me.

  The letter lay where she’d dropped it in front of the fire. The flames reflected off the ink, making the shimmering words seem almost alive. Sophie was faintly aware of how carefully the message must have been written. Joseph had kept his promise of honesty, but he’d given Sophie no chance to change his mind.

  She’d always sensed the Argentons could be capable of terrible things, and her premonition had been proven right. Rose murdered glibly. Garrett could observe death without emotion. And Joseph could disregard his own life and shred her heart, if he thought it would save her.

  No, no, no, please, no—

  How long ago had he left? Was there a chance he might still return? It was still night, and the fire had been fed no more than an hour before. And yet, Sophie knew it was a faint hope. Whatever battle ensued from the confrontation must be resolved quickly; if Joseph had been able to return to her, he already would have.

  Tears coursed down her cheeks, but Sophie did nothing to stop them. Nearly a day before, she would have given anything to be free from Northwood. But now that she’d been given a clear escape, walking alone through the front door felt worse than any mortal death.

  I have to find him.

  Sophie pushed through the doors. The candles lining the hallway had long since been extinguished, and she could only see a few feet ahead of herself in the fire’s light. Beyond that, the darkness seemed to stretch for miles, and the house felt more alive than it ever had before.

  Not because it’s been fed. Don’t even think that.

  Sophie ran back to the room and pulled her boots on as quickly as she could, then she snatched the candle from the writing desk and lit it in the fire. She then cast about for a weapon and settled on a letter opener resting amongst Joseph’s stationary. She knew a proper knife or even a gun from downstairs would have been a better choice, but she didn’t have time to retrieve one. Every wasted moment pulled Joseph farther away from her. She had to find him—no matter the consequences—and she already knew where to look.

  She ran through the hallways with one hand held in front of the candle’s flame to shield it from the stirring air. She knew Joseph had gone to the red door. The burial ground for countless bodies. The source of Joseph’s fear for me during our first dinner together. The door that seems to quietly whisper.

  The tall, red wooden divider filled her with dread, but worse than that was the terror of what could have happened to Joseph on its other side.

  I can’t lose him now.

  The red door had always seemed to appear when she was least expecting it, but now that she was actually searching for the black hallway, it seemed impossible to find. Sophie ran until she was breathless and a stitch developed in her side. She thought she might be going in circles, but it would have been hard to tell during the day, let alone in the dark.

  She leaned against the wall to drag air into her raw lungs. The house was deathly quiet, and everywhere she looked seemed to be a mess of writhing shadows.

  Then the music started. It was just one note at first, held for a long time and quickly followed by another and another, until the notes cascaded together into the dreadful, jarring tune.

  Sophie pushed away from the wall. The song seemed to come from all directions at once. She closed her eyes and slowly rotated until the sound’s location solidified, then she stretched a hand towards it and began walking, trusting her ears to lead her.

 
; The music grew louder as Sophie drew closer. She could sense the song was nearing its end, and she broke into a run. It led her to an unfamiliar door. She sucked in a deep breath and pressed into the room as the tune built into a terrible crescendo. The room was large and empty, save for a single piano sitting in its centre. At the piano, eyes half-closed and face slack, sat Rose, looking as though she were in a trance. She didn’t look towards the open door or seem aware of her surroundings. Her heavy-lidded eyes were unfocussed, and she swayed slightly as her fingers pounded out the music.

  Sophie’s heart felt ready to explode. She crept closer until she stood nearly opposite Rose, but the older woman showed no signs of recognition. Despite the late hour, she wore one of her decadent gowns and had strings of pearls slung around her neck. Pure, hot fury rose in Sophie’s chest, and she slammed her open palm onto the piano’s keys. A deafening clang filled the room, interrupting the song, and Rose drew her hands away from the keys with a start.

  Her eyes finally met Sophie’s, and Rose blinked. The cool control crept back into her face, and the deadness returned to her eyes. “Well, hello, my dear. Couldn’t you sleep?”

  If she was surprised to see Sophie had returned from the forest, she didn’t show it. Sophie suspected Rose had already been aware of Joseph’s rescue, in the same way that she seemed aware of everything that happened in the house.

  “Show me to the red door,” Sophie said, and a viciously delighted smile spread Rose’s red-stained lips.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: Through the Door

  Rose’s shoes clicked on the floor as she led Sophie at a brisk pace. Sophie could feel her aunt’s frequent glances, but she refused to return them. Asking Rose’s assistance scorched her, but it was the fastest way to find Joseph—and she couldn’t waste any more time.

  “My nephew spoke with you, I suppose?” Rose asked, her voice smoother than honey. Sophie could have almost smiled if she hadn’t been so familiar with the stings.

  “Yes.” She kept her eyes focussed ahead. We can’t be far away, can we?

  “Hmm.” Rose gave her another sideways glance, this time scanning her from head to foot.

  Sophie realised too late that her hands were shaking, and she clenched them to keep them still.

  A strange smile curled Rose’s lips. “It seems like I underestimated you, my dear.”

  What does she mean?

  Rose held her lamp above her head to illuminate more of the passageways. “It shows great moral strength to accept your destiny so readily.”

  Wait… she doesn’t know Joseph has already gone to the door, does she? Rose must think I’m giving myself to the Grimlock as a willing sacrifice.

  “And it was wise to go at night, when Joseph can’t…” Rose hesitated. “Well, when he can’t second-guess his duty to his family.”

  Should I tell her? No, Joseph said it should be a secret.

  “It was the right choice,” Rose said, with a hint of maternal pride in her voice. It made Sophie’s skin crawl. “Trust me, you wouldn’t have lasted long if you’d fought the house. This way will be quick. It’s better for everyone.”

  She’d stopped walking, and Sophie found herself facing the black hallway. The deep-red colour at its end was barely visible in the flickering flames.

  Fear clenched Sophie’s insides into a tight ball. She took a half step down the hallway, but couldn’t go farther. She turned back to see Rose’s bared teeth glittering in the light, and couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What’s through the door?”

  “Why don’t you find that out for yourself?” Rose purred.

  Sophie turned back to the hallway and squeezed her eyes closed. Joseph’s face rose in her mind’s eye, and in a second, her whole world was reduced to his warm smile, his sharp jaw and high cheekbones, and the sparkling delight in his eyes.

  Don’t hesitate. He needs you.

  Sophie started walking, hesitantly at first, then picking up speed as she neared the door. She heard the whispers buzzing just beyond her ability to make out the words. The bronze handle seemed to sparkle, and she focussed on it as she stretched out her hand. The metal was cold under her fingers, but she didn’t allow herself the luxury of hesitation. She turned the stiff handle, took a quick breath, and stepped through the door.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: Echoes

  Sophie’s immediate impression was that she’d somehow become turned around and was facing the wrong direction. A long hallway with dark wallpaper, almost identical to the one she’d just come down, stretched ahead of her. However, Rose no longer stood at its end.

  She turned to see behind herself and had a half-second glimpse of Rose’s wild smile glittering in the dim light before the door slammed. Sophie jolted away from it, tightened her grip on the candle’s holder, and turned back to her path.

  Caution told her to move slowly, but fear for Joseph made her take long, quick strides to the hallway’s end. It opened onto a new passageway, this one with red-and-gold wallpaper, just like the rest of the house.

  No… there’s something off about it…

  The wallpaper was mirrored, Sophie realised. In the main house, the paper was red with a gold pattern. These walls were gold with red decorations. The effect was both disorienting and strangely disturbing.

  Sophie turned left. Doors and more hallways branched off to either side. She chose turns at random, praying they would lead her to Joseph. Then she caught sight of movement ahead and slowed. What seemed to be a person was crouched on the wooden floor, and it was rocking, not unlike how she’d seen Rose rock while playing the piano. Sophie crept closer and raised her candle to see it clearly. A floorboard creaked under her feet, and the being swivelled to hiss at her.

  Thin, hole-pocked skin stretched tightly over the corpse’s skull. Its empty eye sockets fixed on Sophie for a second, then it sprang out of its crouch and began to scuttle towards her with deceptive speed.

  Sophie gasped and staggered backwards. The corpse was too fast to outrun. She remembered how Joseph had beaten them into fragments the day before, and she raised her foot with a terrified wince. The creature reared up to snatch at her, and Sophie brought her boot down on its skull with all of the strength she could muster. Her heel broke through the bone and imploded the beast’s head. A plume of black, dust-filled air spewed from the gaping hole, and Sophie stumbled away from the creature.

  Its head had been crushed, but the body wasn’t dead. It thrashed, flipping from side to side as its bony fingers clawed at where its face had once been, then it stretched its arms towards Sophie once more.

  She turned and ran. The awful sound of bony limbs scraping over the wooden floor followed her. Sophie didn’t dare look back, hoping the injury had disoriented the cadaver enough that it wouldn’t be able to catch her.

  More shapes loomed out of the shadows ahead. Pulling up before she collided with them, she reeled backwards. Her flame flickered and threatened to go out as half a dozen paste-white faces turned towards their prey.

  Sophie backed away from the creatures. The scuttling behind her had become louder, and she glanced over her shoulder to see the half-headed corpse was nearly on top of her. Between her and it, though, was a door. Sophie ran for it as hands snatched at her neck and caught in her hair. She shrieked and threw herself forward to pull free. The door burst open as she slammed into it, and Sophie fell to the ground. The impact winded her, and her candle gave out for a second, smothering her in darkness, before it regained the spluttering, weakened flame. Sophie flipped over to see the white faces trying to follow her through doorway, and she impulsively kicked at the door. It slammed into the bodies, forcing them back, and she kicked again to close it. A hand had reached through the opening, and it severed from its body with a jarring crunch. Black smoke billowed from the twitching limb as it tumbled to the ground and made grabbing motions in Sophie’s direction.

  Sophie pulled her legs under herself to keep them clear from the hand. It refused to die, despite being parted from its body. T
he fingers repeatedly twitched in her direction as it tried to jerk itself closer.

  She picked up the candle, feeling immensely grateful that it hadn’t died. There weren’t any other lights in that part of the house, and the idea of being trapped in the dark made her sick.

  What’s keeping the hand alive? The creatures in the forest died when they were broken. Sophie, against her better judgement, crawled closer. Strange, sooty smoke drifted away from the severed wrist in thick tendrils. Sophie inclined the candle closer to see it more clearly then gasped as the hand made an abrupt thrashing motion. The index finger grazed her flame, and the fire caught and spread until it engulfed the appendage. The black smoke, which had been wispy and dusty before, became thick and black as it spewed from the burning fingers. Sophie stared at it, too horrified to move, until the flames faded, leaving nothing but soot where the hand had once been.

  She could hear faint noises through the door. Scratching, scraping sounds, like fingernails on wood, were accompanied by raspy breaths. She stumbled to her feet, willing her legs to hold her weight, and turned to see the room.

  It was bleeding. Dark-red liquid dribbled down the walls in thick streaks and pooled on the floor. Sophie’s mind seized up as memories of her previous experience threatened to overwhelm her. She closed her eyes, blocking out the sight, and recalled Joseph’s face as he’d carried her away from the blood-soaked room: His eyes, hard and full of anxiety. The way he’d cradled her against his body, even though she’d been drenched in gore. His soft, calming voice, murmuring words she hadn’t heard.

  He would save me from this if he could. But right now, I need to be strong for him.

  Sophie opened her eyes. There was a door at the opposite side of the room, though it was surrounded by a curtain of blood. She held the candle high, straightened her back, and willed her legs to move her forward. The handle was coated with blood. Sophie tried not to look at it as she fixed her hand around the cold, wet surface and turned it. Her stomach threatened to revolt, but the door opened without resistance. Sophie stepped through quickly and found herself in another hallway.