“How did you get in here?” Knight growled, stepping inside with all his muscles tense and ready to fight. The air smelled of stale food and sweat—proof that the chamber must have been lived in for at least a few days.
A tangle of comforters and pillows lay in the narrow corner at the other end, close to it was the bag of food, and trash lay around by one of the walls.
Elliot stood in the corner with his fucking cane in hand and sported that ugly Count-like smirk that just begged for being wiped off with a fist. “You really thought you could keep me away from here?”
The sudden realization that Elliot had been staying here, locked up with Fane and listening to his verbal venom, was making Knight sick. Day and night Elliot had talked to that fucking psycho.
A blow of cool air that sounded suspiciously like a sigh rolled against Knight’s neck, and he looked back, his feet freezing to the floor when Fane’s blue eyes looked back at him.
“He believed I would not tell lies. That a dead man cannot have an agenda,” Fane said and rolled his eyes.
Knight squeezed his hands into fists, reminding himself that Fane was only an apparition. He could not do any physical harm but still very clearly put Elliot back under his spell. “Elliot. This is fucking stupid. You’re forbidden from coming here.”
Elliot’s laugh filled the room, and it didn’t sound like him anymore. Manic, high-pitched, and sharp, it cut straight into Knight’s heart. “You can’t forbid me shit.”
Knight’s eyes grew wide when Elliot pulled on the handle of his cane, and steel flashed in the weak light as he produced a long, thin blade that must have been hidden in the prop all along. Knight twisted away in time, but the knife still grazed his bare arm.
A flash of heat speared through his skin, and he instinctively grabbed Elliot’s wrist, tugging so hard the sword fell to the floor with a loud clatter. His elbow surged for Elliot’s face, and the entire body of Knight’s opponent flew at the wall, knocking against it with a nasty crack.
Something contorted in Knight’s gut when he saw Elliot roll down the wall with blood dribbling down his lips, but then he reminded himself that Elliot had just attacked him. He’d attacked him with a fucking sword and only Knight’s reflexes combined with Elliot’s inexperience saved him from a serious wound.
He gathered the blood off his exposed arm and met Elliot’s gaze in silence.
Something changed though.
The air seemed slightly warmer, and he no longer felt that piercing chill in his bones.
Elliot’s red-stained lips trembled, and he wouldn’t get up from his knees, watching Knight as if he’d grown horns. His unfocused gaze settled behind Knight, but when Knight spun around, wary of Fane possibly communicating with Elliot, there was nothing to fear there.
In fact, Fane was gone.
Elliot crawled along the wall on his knees, visibly shell shocked. He hadn’t got a concussion, had he?
Knight swallowed and touched the shallow scratch again, glaring at Elliot as the truth sank in deeper. “You tried to fucking stab me. What the hell?”
Elliot slowly got up, helping himself with the wall, because his legs trembled so violently he would have never been able to rise otherwise. “I… I just wanted you to leave me alone.”
“You don’t have the right to be alone here. This is my house, and I didn’t allow you to come here!” he shouted, approaching Elliot in big strides.
“Why do you care?” Elliot backed off into the corner, but Knight now saw him as a scorpion. Small, but ready to sting at any moment, causing serious damage.
Knight spread his arms, indicating the nest of sheets, the litter, the food. “I brought you here so that you could live like a normal person, not sleep on the floor and listen to what the ghost of a fucking murderer has to say! I told you not to come here, and you what…? Broke my trust and stole the key? You’re a useless fucking piece of shit!” He picked up the hidden blade along with its wooden sheath and looked at the red stain on the sword. “You don’t even know how to use this.”
Elliot wrapped his arms around himself and wouldn’t say a word, just nervously looking from side to side, as if Fane’s absence took away all his ridiculous bravado.
Chapter 19
Elliot stumbled forward with his ears still ringing after hitting his head. Blood dripped down his lips and the coppery taste in his mouth was as prominent as the pain radiating through his body following Knight’s assault. William stood close by, looking between Knight and Elliot, but Knight spoke right through him, as if he didn’t register the ghost’s presence anymore. As if despite all of William’s hopes, drawing Mercier blood hadn’t managed to give him the mortal body he so desperately wanted.