Living with the Dead Page 96


She looked around. Did she have everything?

Footsteps tramped onto the porch. The front door squeaked open.

"Adele?" Hugh called. "Niko wants to talk to you."

She took a deep breath and shouldered her bag. Footsteps echoed across the floor below. Adele crept to the other window, the one overlooking the back porch.

She eased the window open and crawled out just as the stairs creaked. She closed the window all but an inch, stepped to the side and pressed against the wall, hidden under the leafy branches.

The bedroom door opened.

"She's not here," Bernard called.

"Check the closet," Hugh's distant voice replied.

Bernard's footsteps lumbered across the room. The door squeaked. A grunt. Another squeak as he shut it.

"Nope."

"Look in the other rooms. Niko says she came back here."

Adele thanked the gods that clairvoyants couldn't remote-view one another. She waited until Bernard's footsteps retreated. Then she climbed onto an overhanging limb, shimmied along it and down the trunk. She darted to a shadowy pocket beside the porch. A pause, listening intently before she leaned out.

All was clear.

She took a slow step, hunkering down, ready to sprint to the next house. Then Lily lunged from behind that house, waving wildly for Adele to stop. Hugh strode around the corner, heading for the main house. Adele jumped back out of sight. As soon as Hugh was gone, Lily leaned out and waved Adele over.

Adele didn't see a choice. If she went the other way, the stupid girl would probably draw Hugh's attention trying to attract hers.

When Adele reached her, Lily pulled her into a tight hug, trembling against her, voice cracking as she said, "They've gone mad, Adele. Everyone's gone mad. The things that awful man Rhys is saying about you. The lies. How can they believe him? I tried to defend you, but..." She sobbed. "Hugh told me to be quiet. Then he hit me, Adele. Hit me."

Too bad Adele missed that. She patted Lily's back and made suitable noises of sympathy.

Lily went on. "He's been so angry. Like it's my fault. Like I wanted the other men to... to..."

More pats as Adele peered over Lily's shoulder. The barn was a hundred feet away, and in it, plenty of implements to help rid her of this annoyance for good.

"Wherever you're going, Adele, I'm going with you. I'm going to help you escape." Lily sniffled and straightened.

"We'll run to the barn. You can hide in there while I divert attention."

Adele tried not to smile. "Sure. The barn. Good idea."

With Lily watching her back, Adele ran to the next house. Lily caught up, then watched again as Adele made it to the barn. Adele walked into the dim interior, the bone-chilling dampness seeping through her clothes, the stink of beast and shit filling her lungs. By the gods, she'd be glad to get away from –

An ear-shattering crack made Adele stagger forward, the barn exploding in a blinding light. She dropped to her knees, arms flying up to protect her head. Another crack. Another explosion that left her ears ringing, her stomach pitching.

A bomb. Someone had rigged the barn with a –

A blow between Adele's shoulder blades knocked her face-first into the hay, the chaff filling her mouth and nose.

She tried to cough, but her head pounded like it would split if she so much as whimpered.

Another blow, this one glancing off her shoulder. There was no bomb. Someone was beating her. She tried to push up. Her stomach lurched and she gagged, vomit dribbling out.

A kick in the ribs flipped her over and she saw her assailant, a featureless figure looming over her, shovel raised.

That shovel swung down like a scythe. Lily's face appeared above it, contorted into a gargoyle mask of rage and hate.

Adele twisted out of the shovel's path. It struck her hip, fresh pain jolting through her, the shovel glinting as Lily swung it up again.

"That's enough, Lily," said a voice behind them. "For now."

Neala walked over and stood beside Lily. She looked down at Adele. Her eyes glowed, glittering orbs in a grinning death's head, pale skin tight over her sharp cheekbones and chin.

Adele flipped onto her stomach and grabbed fistfuls of hay, pulling herself along the floor, trying to escape.

"Did Lily tell you she got the results from Dr. Briar?" Neala said. "He was running tests, trying to understand why they couldn't conceive. Seems she was taking birth control pills. And it seems someone's been a very sweet sister lately, bringing Lily's coffee every morning."

Lily walked over and kicked Adele's ribs again, making her squeal like a spring piglet at the slaughter. "You think that hurts? It's nothing compared to what Hugh's going to do to you when he finds out."

"Hugh," Adele rasped. "It was his idea. The pills. He wanted to marry me, and if you couldn't have kids, you'd have to go to the kitchens, and he'd be free."

"Is that what happened?" Lily said sarcastically. "How can I ever repay you for telling me the truth? I know, I can let you go, right?"

"If you don't, he'll kill me. It's not my fault – "

"Nothing ever is, Adele," Neala said. "Lily, grab her other arm. We don't want the others to miss out on Adele's wonderful stories."

 

ROBYN

 

Robyn watched Detective Findlay walk along the gravel shoulder behind the compound where Hope, Karl and Rhys had gone. He was returning to the car after talking to the rest of the team. He had his gaze down, watching the ground intently, as if it teemed with scorpions, but when a can lay in his path, he stepped on it, giving a start when it crunched underfoot.

Frown lines creased his broad face. When the wind ruffled his hair, he shoved the strands back from his face, frown deepening, gaze returning to its intent study of his path.

Preoccupied, but not with ghosts. Robyn had already learned to recognize that look, that dreaminess, so jarring on his craggy face, like a cowboy wistfully gazing at the mountains, dreaming of a ranch of his own.

This current preoccupation seemed equally out of place, too intense, too angry. Deep in thought, and whatever those thoughts were, he didn't like them.

He climbed into the driver's seat and stared at a dead bug on the windshield, as if trying to commune with its spirit.

She didn't expect him to speak. The tension between them had been stretching ever tighter since the medical offices.

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