“Like money.”
“Of course, money. And power.” I strode toward the far corner of the church. “Come. His quarters were back here.”
I found the small wooden door that I hadn’t stepped through in centuries. It opened easily beneath my palms. The interior looked like it hadn’t been touched in over three hundred years, with a thick layer of dust over the ornate wooden furniture.
“Wow.” Carrow whistled. “I’d say the maid is overdue.”
I chuckled as I strode around the desk and chair to the stone wall behind. There, I knelt, reaching for the false stone, and slipped it out. An ancient iron keyring appeared, and I pulled it free.
As I stood and held it up, magic sparked in the air, prickly and fierce.
“What’s that?” Carrow spun around, searching the room.
“Ghosts. And they don’t like what we’ve just done.”
11
Carrow
Cold fear pierced me. “Ghosts?”
The Devil—I tried to think of him as Grey, but it was hard—nodded, his brow set in a severe line. “They don’t like that I’ve taken the key. Come on.”
Quickly, he strode from the office. I followed, hurrying to keep up. The church itself was even colder, and figures drifted out from the walls, pale and transparent.
“Can they hurt us?” I stuck close to his side as we hurried toward the center of the church, where the altar still stood.
“Perhaps.” He knelt, smoothly inserting the key.
I stood, spinning in a circle to keep an eye on the ghosts that closed in on us. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as they neared. Each was dressed in an outfit that was at least three centuries out of date, but the malice on their faces was timeless.
The crystal at my throat glowed with heat, and I closed my fingers around it. The ghosts’ eyes followed my movements.
“They want Orion’s Heart.” I clutched it tighter.
“It’s powerful. They may think it can bring them back to life.”
“Hell, no.” I glared at the ghosts. “Back off.”
“They won’t listen.” The jingle of the iron keys continued as he worked.
“Hurry up!” They were almost to me, so cold that I felt like my bones were chattering. “I don’t know how to fight a ghost.”
“You can’t.”
At the edge of the room, Cordelia appeared. The little raccoon raced toward me, holding her bushy tail high. She positioned herself between me and the ghosts, hissing wildly.
They cringed back.
“They don’t like familiars,” the Devil said.
As the key snicked in the lock behind me, one of the ghosts got up its courage and lunged close.
“Beware your fated mate,” it hissed.
I frowned. “What?”
“Come.” The Devil stood and gripped my waist, moving me forcibly toward the stairs that disappeared into the dark.