A ripple of tension waves through me, and my Keeper senses kick into full gear. “This place doesn’t have a basement, Aislin.”
She leans to the side, listening. “Well, then it’s coming from under the house.”
When I strain my ears and hear the faintest bang, I’m on my feet in an instant, carrying the knife as I head for the kitchen. The noise grows even louder, and I push my weight down on each tile, searching for a loose one, thinking maybe Marco and Sophia have a trap door.
After checking each one, I drag the table to the side and check the tiles that were underneath it. One feels loose, so I bend down, and with my knife, I chip away at the grout. The tile shifts to the side, and I pull it out along with a few others then discover a trapdoor tucked underneath them.
I contemplate what to do. I’m not sure what could be down there making that noise. Anything’s possible, really.
“Hello,” someone says from below.
I take a step back, aiming my knife at the trapdoor. “Aislin, get in here.”
“Coming!” she calls from the living room.
The trapdoor opens, and a hand appears out of the dark hole.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” someone says from below.
The voice sounds familiar, but I can’t exactly place it.
A woman with auburn hair suddenly pops out of the hole and heaves herself onto the floor. Panting, she rolls over on her back and looks up at me.
“Alex, is that you?”
I know who she looks like, but I’m not buying her appearance just yet.
I bend over and grip her throat. “Who are you?”
Her body shakes, scared to death. “It’s me . . .” She struggles to breathe. “Sophia, Gemma’s grandmother. You know me, Alex Avery.”
“Sophia’s dead, so you may look like her, but I’m not buying it.” My grip tightens. “Tell me what you are? A Banshee? A witch?”
“I swear I’m Sophia,” she says, trying to pry my hands away from her throat as tears slip from her eyes. “I don’t know how to prove it to you, but I’m really her.”
Suddenly, a pan comes flying through the air and hits the woman square in the forehead. She gasps one final breath of air before she passes out. Then I let her go and jump to my feet, only to find a wide-eyed Aislin gaping at the woman on the floor.
“What is that? Like a zombie?”
“Zombies don’t exist.” I lean down to examine the woman, trying to figure out who she really is. There’s now a gash on her forehead and a trail of blood running down her cheek. “No, she’s alive.” I check her pulse to make sure then look over my shoulder at Aislin. “Did you really have to throw a pan at her?”
She shrugs. “I thought it was a zombie, and I panicked.” She moves up beside me. “What is it, do you think?”
“I’m not sure, but there’s one way to find out if it’s really Sophia.” I slide the collar of her shirt over, and sure enough, a ring of flames tattoos her skin.
“It’s her? How the hell is that possible?” Aislin asks in shock. “I did a Tracker Spell on her, and it said she didn’t exist. And Marco, too.”
“Well, something went wrong, obviously.”
“How? I never mess spells up.”
I lift my brows, giving her a really look, and she smacks me in the back of the head.
“So if it is her,” Aislin says, glancing at the trapdoor, “then where’s Marco? And why was Sophia down there?”
I turn around and lie flat on my stomach, looking down into the area the trapdoor leads to. “There’s only one way to find out.”
With a deep breath, I lower myself into the hole. It reeks like someone has been down there for a long-ass time. Other than some food supplies and the stench, there’s not really anything else down there, so I climb back up into the kitchen and fill a cup with water.
“Go tell Laylen who we just found,” I order Aislin. “And make sure everything’s going okay with Gemma.”
Nodding, Aislin heads for the doorway, calling over her shoulder, “Be careful.”
Once Aislin’s gone, I crouch down beside Sophia and sprinkle some water onto her face. “Wake up.” When she doesn’t move, I give her face a pat and sprinkle some more water on her.
Her eyelids flutter open. “Alex,” she croaks, touching her head. “What happened?”
“You jumped out of a hole in the floor,” I tell her. “Then Aislin threw a pan at your