Page 7 of Hunt the Dusk
She emerged a moment later, clattering up the widening road, and took a left at the intersection toward the manor.
“Is Padma sick?” Godor asked.
“Not that I know of, why?”
“Doctor Jacq lives in Hyde Manor.”
A doctor? Was Padma sneaking out to see a doctor because she was sick and hiding it from me? “I need to find out what’s going on.”
Godor banked left toward the road but maintained a distance so that Padma wouldn’t spot us. He took us higher, circling as she parked the carriage on the drive, disembarked, and hurried into the building.
“Godor, take me down.” We landed at the edge of the woods in view of the house. This close, it was a dark and dead-looking place, not a single light burning in any window. But there was enough moonlight to show the cracks in the foundations and the thick moss climbing the walls. This was an old building, and it hadn’t aged well.
It might look as if no one lived here, but Padma had vanished inside, so someone must have let her in. This Doctor Jacq.
“Wait here. I’ll look around the back.”
Godor tucked his wings tight against his back. “Godor come with you. Godor good at sneaking.”
There was no harm in him coming with me. “Fine. Let’s go.”
We cut across the grass, keeping low and moving fast until we were up against the house, then we followed it around, peeking through each darkened window to find nothing but empty rooms filled with shadowy furniture. As we approached the back of the house, a pool of light was visible on the neatly cut lawn, and the hum of conversation drifted toward us. I slowed my pace as we reached the corner wall, straining to hear.
“…help you if I don’t have what I need,” a cultured female voice said.
“Please, Harriet, I need this. I swear I’ll have it for you next time.” Padma sounded distressed and desperate.
“This is a transactional deal. I made that very clear at the start, and it’s not a cure. You know that.”
“I know, I just…I need more time to figure out?—”
“There is nothing to figure out,” Harriet said. “The best you can do is accept it. I have a place where you can?—”
“No. Not yet, please. I need the transfusions. Just a few more weeks. Edwin has been researching, and we’ve ordered new texts from the Night Library. There could be answers.”
I slipped around to the back of the house, stopping on the outskirts of the rectangle of light.
“And if there aren’t any?” Harriet said.
“Then I’ll tell Orina the truth, and I’ll come here to end it.”
End it? What the heck? I stepped into the light spilling through French doors that opened into a sitting room area. Padma stood facing a young woman who was wearing modern-day clothes.
They both turned to stare at me, and the color drained from Padma’s face, leaving her red lips standing out starkly against her skin. But the woman merely smiled, ground her cigarette to death in an ashtray, then walked over to the doors to let us in.
“Miss Lighthart, how lovely of you to join us,” she said smoothly as if she’d been expecting me.
“How do you know me?”
“Everyone knows the new watcher.”
Figured. I looked to Padma. “What’s going on? What is it that you need to tell me?”
Her posture stiffened defensively for a moment, as if she was readying for a fight, but in the next beat, her shoulders sagged. Her mouth wobbled.
“Padma…” I stepped inside. “Please…I want to help.”
She shook her head. “You can’t help me.” Her eyes welled. “I’m turning into a monster, and I have no idea how to stop it.”
