Pyromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 1)

Chapter 36It took Clelia an hour to cycle to Larmor-Baden. From the crossroad to Larmor, it was a short distance to Joss’s old house. The nearer she got, the harder her heart thumped. It wasn’t only from the exercise. Soon, she’d see Erwan. At last she could reassure herself he was safe.

Stopping in front of the big house, she took a moment. Memories of being Joss’s prisoner flooded her with mixed feelings. Although he’d captured her, he’d also tried to protect her from his team. But none of that mattered now. She could take Erwan with her. Together they’d run. She wouldn’t let him talk her out of it this time.

The abandoned house rose darkly against the overcast sky. A place so broken should’ve looked sad, but the dilapidation looked ominous. The choice of meeting place didn’t surprise her. Like Joss, Erwan knew the haunted house was one of the safest places to meet. No one else would dare to go there.

Suppressing a shudder, she opened the garden gate. The rusted hinges gave with a squeak. The front door stood open on a crack. Erwan was expecting her.

Leaving the bike on the grass, she climbed the porch steps and slipped around the door. The inside of the house was dark. It seemed permanently dark, as if light had abandoned it a long time ago. Even the slivers that stole through the shutters seemed diluted, a foggy mist that dissolved into shadows.

She paused in the entrance for her eyes to adjust. “Erwan?”

The weight of silence hung in the air, making it seem thicker. She took a few steps down the morbid hallway toward the kitchen. A floorboard creaked above. The jagged sound ripped through the sticky air.

“Erwan?”

Backtracking, she glanced up the staircase. A light came on. It shone from the landing. Her heartbeat quickened, sounding loud in her ears as her footsteps fell softly on the wooden floor. Erwan was a little deaf. She called out his name again, louder this time, but when there was no answer, she climbed the stairs slowly, carefully, listening for another sound.

On the landing, she hesitated. There were no blood stains to mark the spot, but this was where Joss’s father had killed his wife. She recalled Joss’s twisted expression when he’d told her the history. Finding his mother like that… She shivered. No wonder the burden still weighed on him.

Forcing the image from her mind, she took a deep breath and skittered around the outskirts of the landing, her back pressed against the rail. It somehow felt wrong to walk over that spot, like walking over someone’s grave.

She glanced down. The visual of the open front door gave her a sense of reassurance. She wasn’t trapped. She wasn’t locked in. She opened her mouth to call for Erwan again when something shuffled behind the first door. Her breath caught.

Erwan.

All trepidation forgotten, she reached for the knob, but before she could turn it, the door opened in her face. She gulped in stale air. Her chest caved.

Staring at the man who stepped out, she frowned. “You?”

He gave her a charming smile. “We meet again.”

This was wrong. The journalist wasn’t supposed to be in Joss’s house. Where was Erwan? She reiterated. “What are you doing here?”

“I was waiting for you,” he said, as if it were something she should’ve known.

“I don’t want to talk about the fires.” She gripped the rail behind her. “I already told you.”

He tilted his head. “All right.”

His easy agreement felt off. The last time she’d run into him, he’d pushed her to the point of being rude. “If you’re not here to talk about the fires, then what do you want? Where’s Erwan?”

His smile looked painted on. “Which question shall I answer first?” He tapped his chin. “Let’s start with a proper introduction. I believe you’ve heard about me.” The gleam of excitement in his eyes was cruel as he held out a hand. “I’m Lupien, and I’m so pleased to finally meet you.”

She gripped the rail harder. Her chest constricted until it hurt to breathe.

Dropping his hand, he regarded her with cold interest. “Did you really not expect me?”

Her knees shook. His name got stuck in her brain. She was facing the man who had every intention of killing her, and she had no means of defending herself. A drop of sweat run between her shoulder blades, tickling her spine.

“Come, now,” he said. “Don’t look so shocked. Aren’t you going to give your daddy a kiss?”

The words hit her like a punch, taking what little breath she had left. Her effort at keeping a stoic face failed. She stumbled a step sideways.

A maelstrom of thoughts assaulted her. Her father. Her mother’s rapist. The man Erwan had warned her about, who’d said he’d be back for her when the fires started. Cain’s opposition. Joss’s enemy. Many questions floated in and out of her head, but she couldn’t formulate one. She could only stare at him in horror.