It hit me. Not the ghosts themselves, but rather their anger. The force of it was so strong it thrust me back into Azriel. He grabbed my waist, holding me upright as I battled to breathe against the sheer force of emotion that was battering us.
It wasn't ordinary anger. It was murderous.
These ghosts were angry enough to kill.
And maybe even had.
Chapter 4
"Holy shit," I muttered, staring into the room with wide eyes. The ghosts were filmy wisps, but there were so many of them that their presence made the room appear fog-bound. "Can you feel that?"
"They are not pleased about something," Azriel agreed. His body was pressed against mine, an oddly comforting sensation.
"That is an understatement," I muttered, knowing I should move and yet reluctant to do so. He didn't seem inclined to move, either. "Can ghosts actually muster the energy to kill?"
"No. As many as there are here, they would never hold enough power to take one life, let alone five. Besides, the victims were poisoned and then eaten. That is not the behavior of ghosts."
"Ghosts?" Marshall said, suddenly appearing beside us. He'd moved so silently I hadn't even heard his approach.
I nodded toward the room. "There's at least twenty in there, which suggests to me you've been understating what actually goes on in this room."
"I haven't understated anything. The joint feedings are dangerous. I told you that." He peered into the room. "I can't see any ghosts."
"If you're not psychic, you wouldn't." I somewhat reluctantly pulled away from the comfort of Azriel's support. "Did any of our victims use this room?"
His gaze met mine. "Yes."
"All of them?"
He hesitated. "Yes."