Dead Man's Deal The Asylum Tales - By Jocelynn Drake Page 0,127

of the hall and what looked to be a set of stairs leading down. There were three more doors on either side of the hall, leading to either bathrooms or bedrooms, but all were closed. No noises came from the other side of the doors. I was itching to look out a window to figure out what time of day it was or even try to learn where the hell I was, but I didn’t want to risk opening a door to an occupied room.

Frowning, I edged down the short hall, trying to make as little noise as possible. The floor creaked here and there, but I was hoping anyone who heard shrugged it off as noises that the house made as it settled. It was a struggle to swallow, my mouth had grown so dry, and I found myself clenching and unclenching my fists at my sides as anxiety ate away at me. I had made a ton of noise with the guard. Had no one heard me? Was there no one else in the house? Someone should have already stormed up the stairs.

At the end of the hall, I peered around the corner and looked down the stairs only to find another landing and more stairs. Fuck, I was on the third floor. How big was this place? Of course, if everyone was on the ground floor, they might not have heard the racket I was making. Praying that was the case, I eased down the stairs, sliding along the wall while trying to keep an eye out both above and below me.

Just as I neared the landing on the second floor, a door was thrown open and the witch that had twisted my nuts in her fist stomped out, frowning. She was wearing the same wrinkled blue blouse and black slacks I had seen her in a while ago, but her dark hair was now down around her shoulder instead of in a neat bun. She looked to be in her early forties, but her constant frowns and glares were putting years on her face. The witch walked to the stairs leading to the first floor and I crouched down, trying to stay out of sight while keeping an eye on her.

“Marceau, what’s going on down there?” she shouted. We both waited, but there was no response. The witch made an angry sound in the back of her throat before turning back to the bedroom she had exited. Instead of going inside, she leaned in and said something to the darkness before heading down the stairs. A couple seconds later, a warlock emerged, tucking his shirt into his pants as he followed her down the stairs.

I couldn’t stop the smirk that twisted my lips. The prevailing rule was that witches and warlocks weren’t supposed to have physical relationships, but while no one openly admitted to it, I had little doubt that it was happening.

I waited until I could hear his footsteps moving away on the ground floor, before I followed behind him. I didn’t know what had drawn the duo to the first floor, but I was hoping that it would work in my favor. If I was lucky, everyone would be gathered in one part of the house and I could sneak out another.

Before hitting the main floor, I peered through the railing to find that the stairs ended near what appeared to be the living room. Bright sunlight was streaming through the windows. It had to be near midday, but which day? Was it the same day I had been attacked, but we were in another part of the world? Or was it the next day or even later than that?

There was no one I could see in the living room. Only old plaid furniture and spindly tables covered with magazines. I looked around and my eyes caught on the front door. Freedom! So close. Even better, I could see no spells on the door. Nothing to alert them if I walked right out of the house and down the driveway or street or wherever the fuck I was.

But I was too slow. Just as I started to straighten my body and head down the stairs, fast footsteps approached. I reached into my pockets and found only the skeleton key I had taken off the guard. The witch turned the corner, one hand on the large wooden banister, as I reached the last step. She looked up, her mouth dropping open in surprise to find