House of Shadows

by Darcie Coates

  “It was eating him,” she breathed. Fresh tears were threatening to spill from her, but she fought them back. “There was so much blood—”

  “When you go through the red door, you’re still within Northwood,” Garrett said. “But it’s a different type of Northwood. Things behave oddly and appear strange. The lamps in the foyer held blue, cold fire. Furniture disappears or is replaced by decayed versions of itself. You saw true: the creature mauled my nephew, but it damaged something other than his flesh. It was only in the other Northwood that it looked like blood.”

  “Will he be all right?”

  Garrett sighed and leaned back to blink at the sky. “I hope so.”

  Sophie ran a hand over Joseph’s forehead to push back the sooty black hair. He stirred and grimaced, and his eyes fluttered open before closing again.

  “Do we have any water?” Sophie asked breathlessly. “Is the lake safe to drink from?”

  Garrett nodded and stood.

  Sophie continued to brush her hand over Joseph’s face. His brow contracted then relaxed, and he opened his eyes and blinked at Sophie.

  Tears created tracks down her dusty cheeks as relief mingled with anxiety, fear, and overpowering love made her shake.

  “Sophie,” Joseph croaked, and his hand moved towards her.

  “Shh. You’re safe. We’re all right.”

  “Sophie,” he gasped again, and tried to sit. “You’re hurt. You—”

  Hysterical laughter bubbled through Sophie. She wiped the tears away from her face. “I’m fine. Don’t struggle. Shh.”

  Joseph fought off her gentle pressure and pushed himself into a sitting pose. His hand cupped Sophie’s cheek as his eyes, darkly anxious, scanned her face and the blood running down her arm. His voice was tense and terrified. “What happened? How bad is it?”

  “Not bad at all.” Sophie had been trying to push Joseph to lie back down, but she gave up and let her hands linger on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat, strong and reliable, and it sent her own heart fluttering. “Don’t move too fast. You’re hurt. The Grimlock—I don’t know what it did, but—”

  Joseph followed her gaze to the white marks across his chest and frowned. “Well, that’s unexpected. Though, I suppose, significantly better than the alternative.”

  Sophie couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh or cry, and she was embarrassed to find she was doing both. Joseph gently drew her closer and enveloped her in his arms.

  “There, don’t worry. You’ll be all right. We’ll get you to the doctor, and then we’ll both be fine.”

  His hand began stroking her hair in the now-familiar gesture. Surprised to feel his fingers trembling, she tilted her head to see his face. There was so much intensity in his eyes that she found it impossible to look away.

  “My dear Sophie. Whatever possessed you to go through the red door? You have no idea what it did to me to see the Grimlock standing over you. Promise you’ll never put yourself in danger like that again.”

  “Only if you promise not to throw yourself into peril behind my back.”

  He gave her a weak smile. “I suppose I should apologise for that. But I knew you wouldn’t have let me go willingly. Though I had expected you to be wise enough to leave Northwood once you were free to.”

  Sophie pressed her head back against Joseph’s chest and closed her eyes. “I couldn’t have gone while something so important was still inside.”

  Joseph kissed her hair and held her so tightly, she thought he might never let go. That was fine by her; his warmth felt good, and somehow he also smelt good, despite the smoke. She felt safe in his arms—safe from Rose, from the Grimlock, and from the house, which was gradually burning to the ground.

  Garrett cleared his throat, and Sophie realised he had been standing a few feet away as he waited for their moment to finish. Elise, pale and agitated, stood at his side. Sophie felt herself turn red, but Joseph just laughed and beckoned his uncle and cousin to join them.

  Garrett sat awkwardly and offered Joseph a flask, saying, “Water.”

  Sophie couldn’t stop herself from stealing a glance at Elise, who sat on Garrett’s other side. She was still pale, and dark circles rimmed her eyes, which she’d fixed on the house. Elise had been affected most by the Grimlock, but Sophie had hope that time would heal her.

  Joseph pressed the flask into Sophie’s hand, and she drank from it. The water was tepid, but because she was parched, it was one of the most delicious drinks she’d ever tasted. She took a mouthful then passed the flask back and followed Joseph’s gaze to watch Northwood.

  The vast structure had been entirely swallowed by flames, which rose higher than even the treetops and sent up a magnificent plume of black smoke. Sophie was almost certain she could see scores of tiny, shimmering shapes rolling through the smoke as the spirits departed the house.

  Joseph kept his arm about Sophie, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. The air was cold, but even at their distance, she could feel the heat from the flames. Both Joseph and Garrett were silent. She tried to guess what they were feeling—relief, certainly, but she thought there was also some grief at the loss. They may have hated Northwood, but it had still been their home.

  Sophie’s thoughts turned to the missing family member, and she cleared her throat. As much as it hurt her to share the news, her family needed to know. “The Grimlock killed Rose.”

  Joseph’s arm tightened around Sophie, but Garrett’s expression didn’t waver. He seemed to think for a moment, then said, “Perhaps that’s the kindest end for her. Rose’s life was so tangled with Northwood that I don’t think she could have survived without it.”

  “It’s still hard to believe it’s gone,” Joseph breathed. “We’re free. What will you do, Garrett?”

  “Hah.” Garrett’s moustache bristled. “I think I’d like to travel. I’ve never been far from this house, and Elise would benefit from experiencing more of the world. What of you?”

  Joseph glanced at Sophie, and her heart fluttered at the affection in his eyes. “I’ll go wherever Sophie takes me.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: Departure

  They watched the fire for more than an hour. The building was far enough from the forest’s perimeter that the flames couldn’t reach the trees, and there wasn’t any strong breeze to blow embers into the woods. Sophie didn’t realise until later how lucky they’d been; if the forest had caught flame, none of them would have escaped.

  Garrett was the first to rise. He moved amongst the staff, who had sat in small groups about the lawn to watch the house and talk in hushed tones, and counted their numbers.

  Thanks to the butler, the entire staff had made it outside. Sophie heard the story in snatches. Apparently, Garrett’s room wasn’t far from where the first of the fire had taken hold, and he’d woken early. When he read Joseph’s letter, he’d taken Elise to the butler then gone in search of his nephew. The butler had seen his young charge outside before returning to the house to rouse any of the staff who hadn’t already woken. Thanks to his diligence, the worst injuries were a few minor burns and smoke inhalation.

  The footmen had retrieved the horses and the carriage from the stables before the flames spread to it. One carriage wouldn’t be enough to transport the staff from Northwood, though, and the town was too far for them to walk. Eventually, they decided that Joseph and Sophie, who both needed medical attention, would go first, along with four of the oldest staff.

  They left not long after the sun topped the trees. The carriage was crowded, but Sophie didn’t mind. It gave her an excuse to lean against Joseph. He kept his arm around her during the journey to town, and though his face was pale from the motion, he smiled whenever he caught her looking at him.

  Once they reached town, Joseph hired rooms for them at the inn and summoned the doctor. Sophie had wanted Joseph to be treated first, but he left to arrange rescue parties to be sent for the remaining Northwood staff, leaving the doctor to stitch the knife wound on Sophie’s arm a
nd give her salve for the burns. Joseph didn’t return until well after the doctor had left.

  “We should call him back to look at you,” Sophie said.

  Looking exhausted, he kissed her cheek and stroked her sooty hair away from her face as he held her close. “Don’t worry for me. I don’t have any injuries to show him. You need rest, though.”

  “I need a bath more,” Sophie mumbled into his shirt.

  Joseph laughed. “Sometimes, I have trouble believing you’re real.” Sophie raised her head to frown at Joseph, and he enveloped her cheek in his palm and brushed his thumb over her skin. “My darling, you’re coated in blood and dirt, and there’s so much ash in your hair that it appears grey. By all rights, you should look terrible, but I can’t remember ever seeing a more enchanting woman.”

  Sophie couldn’t smother her smile.

  “I’m afraid we’ll need to make do with the wash basin until we reach one of the larger inns in the next town,” Joseph continued. “I ordered a clean dress, though, which should be brought in soon. I hope it fits. I had to guess your measurements.”

  Food arrived, and they ate quickly. Then Joseph left again to ensure a sufficient number of coaches and horses had been dispatched to Northwood. The day was passing quickly, and he couldn’t allow any of the staff to remain at Northwood overnight—without shelter, they would freeze in the icy air.

  Sophie washed up as best she could and changed out of the scorched, tattered dress. The gown Joseph had bought her was a sweet, floaty modern cut. She thought it was a little too pretty to be an appropriate emergency dress, but she appreciated that his taste was at least better than Rose’s.

  Her hair was too dirty to wash with just a pitcher of water, so she wrapped it up into a tight bun on top of her head.

  Joseph had left her with instructions to sleep if she could, but she found it impossible to rest as long as he was away. She kept pacing between the window and the door, hoping to either catch a glimpse of Joseph or hear his footsteps on the stairs. He didn’t return until late in the afternoon, and she felt her heart drop at his appearance.

  He looked truly, thoroughly sick. His face was white, and he walked with a limp, but his warm smile returned when Sophie went to him.

  “I promise you, I’m fine.” His cheerful voice had a frightening thinness to it. “It’s only been a long day. The first of the Northwood party are arriving. They tell me the house’s fire is nearly out. Northwood has been razed to the ground.”

  “Good,” Sophie said.

  “Were you able to sleep? You look tired.”

  “I couldn’t. I’m too awake to even try.”

  “Well…” Joseph kissed her forehead, being careful to avoid the place where Rose’s nails had scratched her. “We have a choice, then. The Northwood party will need lodging. I’ve spent today attempting to find accommodation wherever there’s a spare room, but many families are so wary of Northwood that they won’t take a single boarder. A handful of our staff will need to move on to the next town, which is another four hours away. You and I could spend the night here or be one of the first coaches to travel forward.”

  The more distance put between them and Northwood, the happier Sophie felt. Joseph agreed, and they left within the hour after paying for lodgings for the remaining staff. Joseph fell asleep in the carriage and slept through the night and much of the following day once they reached the next staging inn.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: Home

  It was a gorgeous day. Rain from the previous evening had left the trees clean and crisp, and the sun was working to dry the mud and warm the air.

  The weather reminded Sophie of her wedding day and how it had seemed almost too bright and pleasant. She felt worlds away from the terrified girl who had accepted Joseph’s ring and whispered, “I do.” She was strong, sure of herself and her choices, and truly happy in the knowledge that she’d accidentally married one of the best men in the country.

  Joseph insisted the Grimlock hadn’t caused any lasting damage, but his white scars still worried Sophie. He tired easily, and sometimes, Sophie saw him flinch. He seemed to be gradually improving, though—he was more active each day, and his face was slowly regaining its colour.

  Sophie hoped she could convince him to let Uncle Phillip, the physician, examine him. Although Joseph had ensured Sophie had received the best medical attention available, he’d been reluctant to seek treatment for himself. The marks across his torso, though faded, would prompt questions that would be difficult to answer. If rumours started travelling through their peers that the Argentons had been engaging in witchcraft—or worse—it could make their future lives difficult. At least Sophie’s uncle could be trusted to be discreet.

  During their brief stops at the inns, Joseph spent much of his time hastily scribbling messages and calling on business contacts to arrange settlements for his staff. Most of the staff had spent their entire lives on the estate. Many had parents and even grandparents who had been given over to the Grimlock upon death. He felt the only right choice was to gift them enough that they, too, could start a fresh life away from Northwood.

  Their staff had scattered following Northwood’s fall, and finding their addresses was proving difficult. The task consumed almost all of Joseph’s time between the long hours of travelling and sometimes kept him up late into the night. The effort was draining him.

  The only way Sophie could get him to rest was to say she herself felt tired. Then Joseph would drop everything else and sit with her, stroking her hair and arms while murmuring comforting words until they fell asleep together. At times like that, when she rested her head against Joseph’s chest and listened to his steady heartbeat as his fingers stroked over her forehead, Sophie felt almost ashamed of how happy she was.

  Joseph loved her. He made that so clear that she could never doubt it. He stole kisses when he passed her and made time for her when nothing else could distract him from his work, and when they held each other late at night, his eyes shone with such deep desire and affection that it took Sophie’s breath away.

  Their carriage pulled to a stop outside a narrow white house in the city. The flowering bushes in the front garden were full of blossoms, and the sun had done an admirable job of drying the water between the cobblestones. Joseph climbed from the carriage first, helped Sophie out, then threaded her arm through his.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Sophie was too nervous and excited to reply, but she squeezed his arm in response. He chuckled, and together they, climbed the stairs to the smart green door.

  Their knock was answered quickly, and the housemaid, Hill, gasped and threw her apron over her face. She didn’t even spare breath to greet them before turning back to the house in a flurry.

  “Mr Hemlock! Mr Hemlock! Miss Argenton is here!”

  Footsteps thundered through the house, then Sophie’s father appeared in the doorway. They’d caught him early in the day. He needed a shave, and his hair was a messy tousle. He didn’t seem capable of speaking, but the joy in his face told Sophie how much she’d been missed. He stretched his arms wide, and Sophie threw herself into them and hugged him tightly.

  His eyes were wet when he finally pulled back, and he had to clear his throat before he could look at Joseph. He gave a brief nod, and Joseph replied with a gentle bow. “Sir.”

  “Well, you’d better come in.” Sophie’s father finally seemed able to control his voice as he patted Sophie’s hand. “It’s a little early for lunch—but why not. Let’s have a meal brought in. Oh, my dear, I’m so glad you’re home.”

  EPILOGUE

  Garrett Argenton sat at his writing desk, his pen poised over a clean page of paper. He’d never been good at words, and the letter he was trying to craft that morning was one of the hardest he’d ever had to write. It was necessary, though—horribly, crushingly necessary and becoming more so with every passing day.

  He closed his eyes for a second. Then he lowered the pen to the paper and wrote the words that had been e
choing through his head unrelentingly.

  A quiet exhale made him look to his left, where Elise knelt on the floor. Her eyes were vacant as she drew the charcoal across the paper. She was surrounded by a halo of hundreds of sheets, all showing the same figure with its inky-black body and its jaws stretched open. Lamp-like eyes stared out of the drawings with furious, ravenous intensity.

  Garrett looked back at his own letter, where he’d written four simple words.

  Joseph,

  It’s not dead.

  _ ___ _

  Joseph and Sophie’s story continues in the sequel, House of Whispers, which is scheduled for publication in the first quarter of 2016. Request notification of its release at: http://bit.ly/1WUlOcY