Keeping Secret (Secret McQueen) - By Sierra Dean Page 0,97
this,” I snapped.
“Maybe not.” He unzipped the duffel bag and tossed me a spare clip for my SIG. “But you didn’t fight against it very hard, either, did you?”
Shane cast a glance from Holden to me and back again. “Are you really pushing her buttons right now, man? She’s carrying a fucking sword.”
“She’s a big girl,” Holden replied, handing Shane a loaded Glock, my old favorite gun. “I’m not telling her anything she hasn’t thought herself.”
“When this is all over, you and I are going to have a very long chat,” I snarled.
“Yes. And won’t that be fun?”
“Go check the house. Shane, there’s a pool house out back.” I indicated the west side of the mansion.
“Where are you going?” Shane asked.
“I’ve been meaning to take a tour of the hedge maze,” I said. “Now seems like as good a time as any.”
Chapter Forty-Six
I’d only seen The Shining once, but once was enough for me to remember the scene where the little boy tried to escape his psychotic father and ended up running around in the maze in the pitch darkness.
I’d also seen the fourth Harry Potter movie and remembered how awesome mazes had turned out for poor Cedric Diggory.
If movies taught me anything, it was that nothing good ever happened in a maze at night.
Mazes in general were just a fucking freaky thing. I’d never asked Lucas why he had one. Given its size and height it had probably been built by his grandfather and remained a standard feature on the Rain mansion’s grounds ever since.
I hadn’t ventured near it on any of my previous visits to the house because enclosed spaces made me uneasy and I wasn’t a fan of getting lost on purpose.
But if I were going to hide, it was exactly where I’d go.
And Morgan was smart enough to think the same thing.
I slipped the sheath off my katana and left it at the entrance. If the time came when I needed to use the sword, I didn’t want to waste precious seconds shucking off the cover, and I wanted to know where I’d left it when I came out the other side.
I was glad to have changed into my boots, now. The lawn was damp and spongy, and my heels would have sank into the grass with every step.
Sucking in a deep breath, I stepped under the main arch and into the dark gloom. Even with the moon still nearly full, and with my heightened vision, it was impossible to make anything out in the blackened corridors.
Supernatural sight was a lot like night vision—there needed to be some light in order to have something to see. I could make out the edges of turns, but nothing else. Just me, the maze and the midnight shadows.
The vampire in me wanted to call out to her, to coax and tease her like a cat with a mouse. But the werewolf in me won out. She knew the proper way to hunt was to do so with silence and stealth. To wait until you were certain no mistakes would be made, and then strike.
There was no room for mistakes here.
Every turn I rounded was a new opportunity for my heart to lurch into my throat. Yet each time I found only more darkness. The hem of my dress rustled where it brushed against the thick walls of ivy, or whatever plant had been used for the hedge. The sound was quiet, but louder than I would have liked. A whisper when I was hoping for silence.
It also made it impossible for me to move with my back against the wall, as I normally would have. In order to stay as stealthy as possible I needed to walk down the center of the path, where my skirt couldn’t touch the leaves.
I stopped walking and sniffed the air.
The scent of wet grass and bushes was overwhelming. It wasn’t like the pine forests I was used to back home, but the aroma was similarly woodsy and wild. The night itself smelled cold—there was no better way to describe it. Crisp, fresh and so clean it almost hurt to breathe it, that’s how cold smells.
My bare skin responded with a shiver.
The musk of wolf was everywhere, covering everything. I shouldn’t have been surprised—this was where the pack came for each full moon. Lucas probably had them run through the maze as training for…well, who knew. But it made sense in a twisted, wolfy way. One never knew when there’d be a tough spot