Page 17 of Stalk the Dark
Hmmm…Okay.
I carefully put the head and note back in the hat box and sealed it all up.
Hands washed, drapes drawn, I climbed back into bed and settled down to sleep.
The head in the box was a tomorrow problem.
Chapter 7
The kitchen was bathed in midday sunlight and saturated with the aroma of toasted bread and cinnamon. In the daylight, the space was warm and cozy. Solid oak countertops and modern cottage décor that blended well with the original features of the Gothic building.
The window above the sink looked out onto the mansion grounds, unkept and wild, leaving me itching to explore. Another day perhaps.
Haiden stirred a pot on the stove, his back to the door, humming softly under his breath, but my attention zeroed in on the two men eating up space at the long table.
In the warm light of day, Ordell and Hemlock seemed out of place and exposed somehow. When not shrouded by shadows, they didn’t quite fit the scene,like round pegs trying to force themselves into square holes.
These hunters belonged to the night.
Ordell’s white-gold hair was unbound today, tucked behind his ears to leave his high, flat cheekbones free. He had the kind of face that was solid and masculine, his jawline sharp beneath his neatly trimmed beard. He smiled at me over the rim of his mug, which looked tiny in his paw of a hand.
Hemlock, however, paid me no attention. Parked beneath an invisible cloud, dark brows drawn, mouth in a grim line, he toyed with a butter knife in one hand while rolling a silver coin along the knuckles of another. His dark hair was artfully mussed, and the daylight brought out the streaks of red hidden in it.
Ordell’s attention dropped to the hat box under my arm. “You like hats?”
“Nope.” I set the box on the table and tugged off the lid. “And I like dismembered heads even less.”
Hemlock was all attention now, leaning forward to investigate the box. “Ah…I see.” He snagged the note and read it before passing it to Ordell.
“What will you do?” Ordell asked after reading it.
“Go to dinner, of course.” I popped the lid back on the box. “I won’t give him an excuse to dismember anyone else.”
“He’ll probably dismember someone anyway,” Hemlock said flatly. “He just won’t send you the head.”
I’d already considered that possibility. “Maybe, butI can’t be an added motivator. It’ll also be a good opportunity for me to read him. Figure out how best to deal with him.”
Hemlock’s soft snort of derision was followed by an equally derisive drawl. “You don’tdealwith Ezekiel.”
I locked gazes with him. “And how did you discover that?” I tapped my chin. “Maybe it was when you delivered a cartload of humans to him last night?”
Hemlock’s brows flicked up slightly, the only visible sign that he was affected by my statement. “News travels fast in Old Town, it seems.” He rolled his head toward Haiden, who was busy at the stove, his back to me.
I didn’t feel the need to clarify how I’d come about the information, more interested in his lack of guilt or remorse. “You think those people deserved to die?”
“Someone had to, and rather the criminals than the innocent, right?” He waited for me to respond, his gaze a little too probing, but Ordell spoke before I could.
“Ezekiel’s hunger is almost insatiable upon waking,” he explained. “It was the only way to protect the innocent residents of Old Town.”
“Hmmm, right, which brings me to my next question—how do you two know so much about him? Not just his feeding habits, but the fact that he has guest coffins?” I focused my laser glare on Hemlock. “You sound as if you know him personally.”
The coin coasting along Hemlock’s knucklesmoved faster. “We’re not the first set of hunters to work with a watcher, and hunters keep archives too.”
“You should eat,” Haiden said, placing a bowl of porridge in the spot in front of me. He carefully picked up the hat box. “I’ll dispose of this.”
“Wait!” I placed my hand on the box and closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, Mary, please forgive me for failing in my promise to you and your husband. I hope you both find peace.” The markings on my arm, inked in when I’d been ordained, tingled with power. “Blessing of the white wings be with you.” I opened my eyes to find the three men watching me keenly.
I lifted my chin. “Can you bury her please?”
