Page 151 of The Darkest Hour

And because of that, I would spend the rest of my life trying to figure out all of the answers to those questions.

I turned to her and squeezed her hand. “We should go in the back.”

She didn’t even put her view on me. “You said there is more death out there.”

“I can smell it clearly.”

She let out a long breath. “Then. . .we’ll go see what’s out there.”

“And we’ll face it together.”

She slowly nodded. “And. . .”

I quirked my brows. “Yes?”

“Regardless, please don’t let go of my hand.”

I gave her a sad smile, even though she couldn’t see it. “Onyx. . .I will never let go of you. . .period.”

She swallowed. “That’s the best thing you could have ever said right now.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Thank God you’re with me. I couldn’t have dealt with all of this by myself.”

Warmth hit my chest.

So. . .I am helping her. . .somehow. Good.

Still holding Onyx’s hand, I led the way, pushing open the large doors that led to the back of the chateau.

The little bit of fresh air should have been a relief after the suffocating atmosphere inside, but instead, it brought with it that sickly sweet odor of decay.

God, I hate smelling dead people.

For some reason, death held the stench of rotting meat mixed with blood and candy. That was the only way I could explain it.

Perhaps, it was why even as a kid, I never really enjoyed candy like the other children.

Hand-in-hand, we continued outside.

The rear of the chateau unfolded like a scene from a forgotten dream—a place where luxury had been left to languish.

Manicured bushes lined the back of the property.

And right on the ground, rested five bodies, sprawled out in a grotesque display of death.

While we’d both been accustomed to death in our assassin careers, this sight was enough to stop anyone in their tracks.

Still, I forced myself to move closer, to take in the details that would tell the story of their final moments.

The decomposition was advanced. The skin of the corpses bloated and mottled into a sickening mixture of green, black, and purple.

Flies swarmed around them, buzzing in an incessant, maddening drone as they feasted on the rotting flesh. The smell was overwhelming, even for me, a pungent blend of decay, candy, and something more metallic—blood, now congealed and darkened where it had pooled beneath them.

Onyx shook her head. “They’ve been dead longer than the hanging man.”

“I bet he was the one who killed them.”

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