The woman continued wailing, her mouth stretched wide and her hair falling around her shoulders in a wild tangle.

I whirled from the window and flew to the door. Fumbling with the lock, I yanked the door open and fled down the hallway, my bare feet pounding against the soft carpet runner. The hallway looked different in the light of day, but I managed to retrace my steps from the night before, and I raced down the grand staircase as quickly as I dared. When I reached the foyer, I hesitated, my ears pricked for the woman’s cries. Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows and cast colorful patterns on the hardwood floors.

A mournful cry drifted from behind me. I spun and then followed it, rushing down a short hallway lined with closed doors. A second later, I burst into a spacious, modern kitchen. I got an impression of stainless steel appliances and gleaming marble countertops before another shriek sounded from outside. A pair of wide French doors opened onto an expansive patio. The hedge maze lay behind it.

And the woman stood at the maze’s entrance, her back to me as she screamed into the sky.

I hurried to the doors, wrenched them open, and rushed down a set of concrete steps. Chilly morning air sliced through my T-shirt as I crossed the patio, ran down another set of steps, and onto the grass. The frost stung my bare feet. Dew soaked the bottoms of my pajama pants, but I barely registered the discomfort as I jogged toward the woman. Up close, her dress was even more tattered than I’d thought. The hem was ragged, its edges stained brown as if the dress had once been long enough to drag on the ground.

“Are you okay?” I called.

The woman stiffened. I stumbled to a halt as she faced me.

Her tears were gone, her eyes clear. With no more than twenty feet between us, it was easy to see she was stunningly beautiful, with deep blue eyes and pouty red lips.

And her dress was intact, the white fabric pristine and perfectly tailored. The hedges rose behind her, the bright green a lush backdrop to her dazzling beauty.

Even as I grappled with the sudden change in her appearance, an image flickered over her like an old-fashioned film strip skipping. One second, she was normal. The next, she held her severed head in one hand and a shallow silver bowl in the other. The eyes in her severed head blinked slowly. Her hair trailed to the frozen ground.

I staggered backward, my heart in my throat and a gasp on my lips.

The woman tipped the bowl. Blood spilled over the edge and splashed onto the grass.

I cried out, terror gripping me.

The woman jumped as if I’d startled her, and the horrible vision vanished. Now, she appeared as she had from the beginning, her head firmly on her shoulders and her gown in ruins. Tears ran down her face. Terror filled her eyes. She drew a deep breath and gave an ear-splitting shriek.

I clapped my hands over my ears, cringing as pressure built against my eardrums.

The woman snapped her mouth shut. Between one breath and the next, she transformed into a crow and soared over the hedge maze.

“No!” a man’s voice shouted. I spun as Einar thundered down the patio steps, his arms pumping. “Myrna, no!”

The crow flapped its wings hard, climbing into the air and streaking over the maze. It swooped once before flying out of sight.

I stood with my arms limp at my sides, my mind reeling from the spectacle I just witnessed.

Einar sprinted across the grass and staggered to a stop, his chest heaving. His face was stricken as he stared at the spot where the crow had disappeared. He wore nothing but a pair of black sweatpants slung low on his hips. A mat of dark blond hair covered his chest before narrowing to a thin trail that ran down rippling abs before disappearing into his waistband.

I jerked my gaze from his hips just as he rounded on me with a furious expression.

“Are you pleased with yourself?” he demanded.

I jolted. Why did he seem angry with me? But he wasn’t surprised—which meant this wasn’t the first time the woman had done this. And it wasn’t a video I could dismiss. She’d changed right in front of me.

“She transformed into a bird,” I said, still trying to wrap my mind around it.

Einar scowled. “Because you frightened her!”

Was he serious? Outrage made me take a step toward him. “You’re blaming this on me? Her head came off! She screamed like she was dying.”

“No shit. She’s a banshee.” He looked toward the sky, and he spoke under his breath as if he talked to himself more than me. “Now, she’ll take forever to coax back to the house, assuming I can find her.”

“Banshee,” I repeated, my nerves still jangling. “Like the Irish spirits who scream when someone is about to die?”

Einar looked at me, irritation in his gaze. “Not spirits. Humans always get it wrong when it comes to supernaturals.” He stalked to me, grabbed my elbow, and hustled me toward the house. “Come on. You have no business being out here.”

“Hey!” I dug in my heels, but it was useless. He was simply too strong, and I was forced to stumble along even as I tried to twist from his grip. “What do you mean, you have to coax her back to the estate?”