“Oh, delightful.”
He gave the bedroom doors a somewhat dubious look. He wouldn’t have seen anything more than I did – an innocuous, unpainted double entrance into another room. But the more I looked at those doors, the more the sensation of danger crawled through me.
“You know,” he added, “common wisdom would suggest walking away from trouble rather than into it.”
I half snorted and glanced up at him. “Seriously? You’re actually suggesting we turn around and walk away?”
“You know me better than that.” His grin flashed. “I was merely pointing out what the wise would do.”
“I don’t suppose suggesting you at least wait here would do any good?”
“No. Besides, you’re armed and I daresay your reaper is near.”
“I daresay a reaper is near,” I commented, voice a little harsher than necessary. “Whether they’ll come to our assistance should we land in trouble is anyone’s guess.”
I forced my feet forward. Jak fell in step beside me. “I take it from that there’s been a lover’s quarrel?”
“It means exactly what it says. A reaper is near, just not Azriel. More than that you need not know.”
“Which, of course, just fuels the fire,” he murmured. “This case gets more interesting by the day.”
“And more dangerous.” I slowed as I neared the double doors, scanning them quickly and still seeing nothing. Yet that niggling sense of wrongness was growing.
Amaya? Can you feel anything? I twitched my fingers but resisted the urge to reach for her. Not every problem could be solved by her presence, however much she might believe otherwise.
Not, she replied, and sounded a little miffed. I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was over my thought that she couldn’t solve every problem, or the fact that there didn’t seem to be a problem.
“So what lies beyond the doors you’re giving the evil eye to?” Jak asked.
“A bedroom.”
He frowned – something I sensed rather than saw. “I thought you were looking for clues?”
“I am, but I’m not likely to find them where the builders could inadvertently stumble upon them.”
“And the builders couldn’t stumble into the bedroom?” Jak asked, a slight edge in his voice. Whether it was sarcasm or concern, I wasn’t really sure.
“Well, yes. But it would suit Lucian’s twisted sense of humor to hide stuff in a half-finished bedroom.”
“So are we going to enter, or are we just going to stand here and stare at the door?”
“I prefer the latter option myself,” I muttered. “But I guess we should do the first.”
I gripped the handles and slid the doors back into their respective recesses. The large room beyond was more finished than it had been the last time I’d been here. The king-sized bed still dominated the middle of the room, but the three bathroom walls had been plastered and the fourth side was now a half-height glass-and-brick wall that would have provided some modesty to those sitting on the toilet but little else.
My gaze swept the rest of the room, but I couldn’t see anything out of place. Couldn’t see anything that suggested there was, in any way, something dangerous lurking in wait for us.
And yet that’s exactly what I sensed.
It would be sensible to retreat. Totally. But retreating wouldn’t get the damn keys found. Wouldn’t save Mirri’s life.
I swallowed heavily and forced myself forward. Felt a featherlight press against one shin, then a snap. Quickly looked down and saw the glimmer of pale thread.
I froze, waiting for the hammer to fall.
“What?” Jak’s voice was little more than a whisper.
“Someone placed a cotton line across the door. I just broke it.” I scanned the room again. Still nothing, and yet the sense of danger was growing.