Furthermore, he smelled a feline. On the granite island where he’d first dared to touch Shoshanna, there was a blue plastic crate.
And it was purring.
He frowned. “Magneto?”
The cat let out a mournful yowl. He crept closer to see baleful yellow eyes peering at him through a lattice of bars. The feline butted its head against the door, rattling the cage.
“Shoshanna?” he called.
No answer.
After another unsuccessful attempt to use its skull as a battering ram, the cat let out a pitiful mrow. He hesitated, then opened the door. In a blur of black, the cat leapt down and bolted for Shoshanna’s room. “Shoshanna?” he asked again, hurrying toward the sound of the heartbeat. Grim relief swept over him. He could deal with her ignoring him if she was alive.
The heartbeat was coming from the direction of his library. He growled in frustration. Perhaps she had called his bluff and went searching for her things. He stormed across the living room, then froze when he rounded the corner.
Lucia’s alcove was empty. The curtains were open, and one of the windows stood open, letting in a balmy breeze. Dirty smudges marked the otherwise pristine windowsill. A trail of mud outlined small footsteps down the hall, toward the library. And strangest of all, a plain gray dress lay piled on the floor. It was intact, as if someone had simply stepped out of it. It took him a solid ten seconds to wrap his mind around what he was seeing.
“What in God’s name...” he murmured. He darted down the hall, toward the library. The source of the heartbeat huddled in the corner, blue eyes wide as saucers. He froze. “Lucia?”
Blonde hair was plastered to her corpse-pale skin. The woman screamed and scampered back into the corner, babbling in Czech. The smell of smoke and sweat filled the air. She was naked as the day she was born. She spoke so fast he could barely keep up, but he understood, help me God. Save me.
“Lucia,” he said, running toward her. She screamed in fright, but he gently touched her arms. “It’s me, Alistair Thorne,” he said in Czech. It was rusty, but he could manage introducing himself. Without thinking, he swept the hood from his face. Her eyes widened. “Fuck,” he muttered. The poor creature really was going to think she’d woken up in Hell.
She screamed and kicked at him, catching him in the chest. Alistair backed away, protesting, “Lucia, it’s me! Please. Listen!” He dodged another kick, then caught her arm and spun her to his chest, holding her tight. Her entire body trembled with terror as she screamed in protest. Her words disintegrated into wordless sobs. “I know I look frightening,” he said. “It’s me, Alistair.”
In her weakened state, her struggles were fruitless. He kissed the top of her head, wrinkling his nose at the smell of unwashed skin. It was hardly fair to judge her hygiene considering she’d been a stone statue for more than a century. There was also a fresher smell of dirt. Combined with the footprints, he guessed she must have gone out the window in her confusion, then returned to the safety of the house.
“You know me. I was cursed like Kova,” he said.
At the sound of Kova’s name, she stilled. “Am I dreaming?”
“You are not dreaming,” he said gently. “You are here.”
“Where is Kova?”
“He is not here,” he said, thankful that she could not see the wince on his face. He gently stroked her matted hair. “I will care for you until he returns. I cannot imagine how you must feel.”
“Cold. Hungry,” she said, trembling.
He nodded, then gently pulled away from her, sweeping his hood over his face again with one hand. She cowered. “I’ll be back. I’ll find you some clothes and food. Yes?”
She just stared up at him, terror still etched on her beautiful face. Her breaths were quick and raspy, betraying her panic.
He hurried out of the room and shouted, “Shoshanna! Your anger must wait. You were right. You did it, but I need you to help her.” He hurried to Shoshanna’s room and found her bed neatly made, her things still strewn about. The black cat was curled up on her pillow and gave him a strange look. “Where is your human?”
It meowed, then twisted awkwardly to lick its back. Useless beast.
He hurried through the house, looking into each room. “Shoshanna?” he asked, dread swelling in his chest. The only heartbeats in the house belonged to Lucia and the little feline. If she was here...
No. He would not entertain such thoughts.
Still, he searched from room to room, calling her name and sniffing the air. Despair gripped him as he returned to the kitchen. In his rush to find the source of the heartbeat, he hadn’t seen Shoshanna’s phone laying on the kitchen island. He tapped the screen to see a text notification.
Ruby: i’m outside with coffee! let me in!
It had arrived at eleven that morning, not long after he had gone to sleep. He ran to the front door and yanked it open, as if he would magically find them there ten hours later. It was still and quiet, the expanse of the manicured lawn dark and untouched. A faint scent of herbs lingered in the air, a smell that had wreathed Ruby when she visited before.
He tried to swipe at Shoshanna’s phone to call Ruby, but the message cleared, then asked for a passcode. “Fuck,” he growled.