“All right,” she said. “Go to the first floor of the castle. Rear entrance on the right side if you’re facing the back of the building. There you will find a rock garden, and beyond it, a cottage. She lives there.”
“Thanks.” I smiled at her.
She dusted off her skirts and stood. “I should be going now.”
“Thanks for breakfast.” And for the info about this crazy, screwed-up world. No one knew joy here. That much was obvious.
Was that because of Hades?
Most definitely.
Kerala left, and I scrambled out of the bath immediately. It took more willpower than it should have to ignore the breakfast—it smelled truly divine—and I went to the wardrobe.
It was well outfitted, though almost everything was black. So much of this place was shades of black and gray. Quickly, I selected some sturdy tactical trousers with multiple pockets and a selection of layers for my top half. Tank top, long sleeve shirt, and sweater.
There was no bra, which was weird as hell. At least my tits were small, but I’d have liked a bra. Maybe it was too modern.
I looked down at the pants.
They were certainly modern.
I frowned. There was no way it was some pervy trick of Hades’. Until I’d arrived, he’d been a sentient icicle. Still was, for the most part.
Lucifer?
No.
He wasn’t an icicle, but it was also too childish a trick for him.
I turned around and searched the room, finding a chest of drawers on the other side. As soon as I opened it, a small, winged creature shot out.
I gasped, darting backward. A little black bat had been sleeping in the drawer, and it now fluttered around the room. It was a midnight black, with gleaming onyx eyes and a round little head.
“You’re way cute.” I frowned at it. “But are you a spy?”
The bat seemed to shake its head, then it darted from the room.
That was weird. Was it the same bat I’d seen in the creepy library when I’d first arrived?
If it was, did it matter?
Probably not. I turned back to the drawer and dug through it, finding an assortment of undergarments, including a sports bra-like thing that would do, along with some socks. Sturdy black boots completed the look, and I armed myself with the letter opener and the small glass bottle.
Last, I recovered my stash of hidden protein bars and chowed down on one, sticking the rest into the cargo pockets of my trousers. The cloak completed my look and would hopefully help me blend in with the rest of the population in this forsaken place.
Finally, I was ready.
I turned toward the door and swallowed hard.
I really didn’t like exploring. Though, technically, I was allowed to, danger radiated from every corner of the castle.
Screw that.
I didn’t have time to be afraid.
Mac needed me. And I needed to get the hell out of here.
I hurried from the room, my head beginning to pound harder. I really needed to drink something. And according to Lucifer and Kerala, I could.
Still, the idea terrified me.
Should have asked Beatrix to bring water.
But there was no way a raven could carry enough water for me. The protein bars had been the best she could do.
I shook away the thought and hurried from the room, peeking into the hallway before entering. The last thing I wanted was to run into someone, for fates’ sake.
Fortunately, the hall was empty. I flipped my hood up and moved swiftly through the passage, my footsteps silent on the plush rug. It was gorgeous, an ornate thing of red and gold wool that matched the deep crimson wallpaper covering the walls. Glowing sconces cast a flickering light around the room, but, somehow, the effect wasn’t cozy.
The opposite, in fact. Hades’ home could grace the cover of Good Hellkeeping.
As I walked, I tried to remember the route Hades and I had taken when we’d first arrived. But there were so many halls that it became impossible. When I came upon a set of spiral stairs, I took it, following Kerala’s advice to head to the bottom floor.
It took well over twenty minutes, and I passed through hallways of all varieties—both ornately gorgeous and austere—but I finally found my way to the back of the castle.
I didn’t see a single soul the entire way, nor did I hear one. In fact, the only time I’d seen people in the castle had been in the kitchens. The entire place was eerily, surprisingly empty.