Bewitched (Betwixt & Between #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,16

much more than that. The vines were as much of a supernatural barrier as a physical one. And with them, Percy had kept things at bay that would terrify most humans.

And he’d done it over and over and over while I’d slept.

Four

In my defense,

I was left unsupervised.

-Meme

Since the thought of being stalked by that dark nightmare filled me with a crushing fear that rivaled the time I thought I’d killed Annette with a cheese grater, I decided not to purposely seek it out. My beauty rest could wait. Instead, there were a series of secret passageways calling my name.

Not literally, thank God. It was enough that Percy was alive and had a mind of his own.

Flashlight at the ready, I entered through the movable shelves in my bathroom. A light came on the minute I stepped through. I turned back to Percy. “For real? You can’t come in here?”

A multitude of black vines snaked across the bathroom wall, twisting and curling over the surface, stopping at some invisible barrier between the privy and the narrow hallway.

I reached across the threshold and wrapped one around my finger. “It’s okay. I’ll be right back.”

He let me go. A good sign in my book. If the passageways were dangerous, he would’ve tried to stop me. At least, that’s what I told myself. A false sense of security was better than no sense of security—especially when it came to watering down my fear.

The only thing in the hallway besides the wall sconces was the camera my dads had installed to keep an eye on me while I slept. The walls were lined with whitewashed shiplap that smelled of sea and salt and brine, making me wonder if the wood really came from a boat.

The maze behind the walls seemed to access every room in the house. One set of narrow stairs traveled over rooms and halls to get to the next. Trailing up and down throughout the entire manor, some walkways were no more than four feet high.

One even took me all the way to the basement. Or at least I thought I was in the basement. The musty scent of earth hit me as I descended a thousand steps farther than should be possible. Somehow, I’d gone deeper even than the rooms downstairs. I was underneath them. And there were no lights down here.

Turning on the flashlight, I tugged on a thin wooden door. The rusted hinges squeaked in protest, then opened into a cave.

An explorer’s wet dream, rock walls lined a massive cavern. Water pooled in several places, as though the sea was somehow getting in. The floor to the house above me had been braced with massive, smoothly finished columns.

Cool air brushed over my skin. It flowed from one side of the cavern to the other, and I swore I heard waves lapping against rocks nearby. Turning, I felt the wall beside me. It was damp and smelled like salt. But we were over half a mile from the ocean. So, where were the waves coming from?

I couldn’t see without going deeper inside. I bit back the urge to call out “Is anyone there?” I’d seen more than one movie about people who explored creepy, dark rooms alone at night. Visions of entrails had me backing away. No matter how brightly my curiosity burned, it would have to wait. I could come down tomorrow during the day to see if any sunlight filtered through.

I was just about to hightail it out of there when an apparition walked out of the darkness—a woman shrouded in silver—and I almost ruined a perfectly good pair of underwear. As it was, I suffered a small arrest of my left ventricle. But that was less humiliating. A story I could actually tell at parties. I clicked off the flashlight as quietly as I could.

But the apparition heard it and turned. She didn’t need the light. She came with her own luminescence.

Dropping the flashlight, I stumbled back in horror, a scream about to rip from my throat—

“Defiance?”

“Ruthie?” Retrieving the light, I beamed it at her.

She blinked. “What are you doing down here?”

“What am I doing down here?” I put a hand over my heart attack. “What are you doing down here?” Foregoing the safety of the last stair, I stepped into the cave but held onto the doorframe for dear life, my nails digging into the wood.

“I’m just . . . I was thinking.” Her glow softened.

“Thinking about what? How this place is creepy AF?” Though, with