Page 55 of A Heart So Haunted
I couldn’t help it—I stepped forward, pointing a finger at him. “I could walk out right now, board up that stupid door, and leave you here. I’m trying to be nice to you.”
“Nice to me? What did I say about pity, dearest?” he said, glaring at me.
“So you don’t want help?”
He flipped the script. “And I should believe you would follow through on a promise, why, exactly?” He leaned against the wall, temple in his palm. As if I was trying to drag him away from a day spa, but a shadow lurked in his eyes while he watched me. Followed me across the entryway and against the wall where I leaned. A cruel sort of entertainment. “Ah, but alas, me coming with you would help no one. Two can be stubborn, but only one is smart about it. I would be very, very careful about what you offer me.”
“I didn’t say to make a deal.”
“I did not agree to make one.”
My fingertips started to tingle. I knew I teetered on the edge of a precipice, something unknown, and the longer I stared at it, the more likely I would be to take a step. To take the leap, just out of curiosity. And maybe he was right—out of pity, too.
“Tell me why you’re here in the first place and how to get you out. If it will help Haddy, or your memories or whatever, stop … Then that’s enough for me.”
His pupils contracted, then dilated. A slow grin peeled his lips.
“I’m afraid it’s not so much why, as how. I have tried to open the door before, but it will not change from the darkness I see on the other side, so I know little of what she … I’m stuck here, in this alternate place, until it changes.”
She.
So someone had locked him here. In that moment, I thought of a rabid animal being trapped right before euthanasia. Was I offering to help something, someone, that was locked up for a purpose? Was I being blinded by a child’s echo into helping someone that didn’t deserve it?
The thought made me hesitate. Could my own aunt have put him here?
I shifted tendrils of hair away from my face, making sure the door was within eyesight. As if he wouldn’t be able to catch me if I tried a second time to bolt.
“What do you promise me in return? I need collateral,” I said.Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Still, if I changed my mind, I could leave and lock the door. I could never come back. That was my leverage. And he couldn’t leave without me. I just needed to be prepared—do a little research, if I could find anything—before I figured out a way to release him. Because if I released him and he didn’t leave, and I was supposed to get this house ready to sell—
“Oh, Landry, I am certain I can offer something in return.”
My name on his lips sent a hummingbird through my chest. I gave my blandest expression, because if he saw it, how that affected me, he could use it. They always used it. “Okay. I’ll see if I can find a way to help you—but only if it means the crying stops. And whatever else is going on in the house stops, too.”
His attention snagged as I said it. The faintest, barest flicker in his jaw, but it vanished as quick as it came. “Oh, not this place, dearest. I mean this curse upon me.”
I blinked in confusion. “Letting you out wouldn’t break this … trap?”
“If you believe I turn into a beast upon my own volition, you would be sorely mistaken. I have … inklings that it would not cease, no.” He pushed to stand, his horns surpassing the height of thewindow. If I hadn’t been paying attention, he would have blended in with the wall, they were so close in color.
Casual, languid, I walked to the door. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Hadrian trailed after me like a shadow. I kept my pace even, unhurried. I didn’t need to look guilty or scared.
Slip out, leave him here for a while longer, then maybe come back.
“Pray tell … What do you mean, whatever else is going on within the house?”
I stopped in front of the door. It sounded ludicrous out loud; I didn’t look at him when I said, “There are things happening in Harthwait that I can’t explain. Besides hearing your crying at night.”
“Go on.” His expression remained placid.
“I was worried it my aunt may be haunting the place.” I didn’t realize how much that worried me until I said it. “She passed not long ago. She’d always said I couldn’t stay overnight in Harthwait as a child.” I nodded to him. “Maybe it had to do with you … or maybe it was something else.” After all, Hadrian seemed to be confined to this one space, though his memory wasn’t. I didn’t feel comfortable assuming everything was connected, not yet. But it made sense: something like him, trapped inside, slowly seeping out from its confinement.
“I fear you place a great deal of your faith in me,” he said, teasing. He stopped a few feet short, just enough for his body heat to be palpable.
I shrugged. “Even if I let you out of this room, it sounds like you can’t leave Harthwait, right?”
