Nightfall (Devil's Night #4) - Penelope Douglas Page 0,65

night and hung to dry on the shower door, someone’s clean boxers over them, and their button-down white Oxford.

I rolled over the shorts to make them fit and buttoned the shirt, rolling up the sleeves. If I had to guess, I’d say these clothes were Rory’s, since he was the smallest.

I still swam in both pieces of clothing, though.

Heading back into the bedroom, I sheathed my knife and stuck it into my breast pocket. I still had no idea how I got the knife. Whoever brought me here might’ve wanted me to be able to defend myself, but if they didn’t want me hurt, why the hell dump me here in the first place?

I had so many questions.

Turning my head, I spied the wall of antique sporting equipment I’d vaguely noticed but hadn’t inspected. Plenty of weapons on that wall. Cricket bats, old blades from rowing teams, and…

I walked over, grabbing the shadow box of old fish hooks. Flipping it over, I pried out the backing and set it on the table against the wall, picking out four hooks and taking them to the dresser where Aydin had left the bandages.

Sticking each hook through the gauze, I wrapped the bandage around my knuckles, fitting the ends of the hooks between my fingers to pinch them in place, while the sharp, curved ends reached out like claws.

I bit back my smile, wrapping the gauze around my hand like a glove, ripping it free from the rest of the roll, and tucking the slack into the bandage over my palm.

Balling my fist, I lashed out, hearing the claws cut the air. I wanted a weapon I didn’t always have to carry. Freddy Krueger glove, it was.

With my wet head, weapons, and glasses on, I left the room, keeping my eyes peeled in all directions.

I passed the secret door and kept walking around the landing, treading quietly down the hallway that I saw Taylor come out of yesterday when I’d arrived.

I hadn’t heard any more movement above me or in the walls since last night. Maybe it was critters.

I passed a couple of rooms—a bedroom and a nursery—and then I walked past an office before I came to a closed door, quietly reaching for the handle as I debated.

I wanted to know which rooms were what, which ones had windows, and who was settled where, but I also didn’t want to draw notice.

To hell with it.

I needed to know.

Gently, I twisted the handle, but then I heard grunts from the other side of the door and stopped, leaning my head in to listen.

Another grunt followed by a groan with muffled whispers, and I took a step back, releasing the handle.

That was undoubtedly Micah and Rory’s room.

Noted.

I trailed around the second floor, finding another dark bedroom with the sheets mussed, clothes on the floor, and a couple of more rooms freshly made up by the cleaning crew yesterday.

I stepped into one with a massive bed, an ornate hardwood headboard and footboard, and a large cushioned chair in the corner. Unlike most of the other rooms, this one wasn’t white or black. Earth tones and decorative lamps dressed the room, and I instantly felt cozy and warm.

If it wasn’t already taken, then it was mine if I was still here tonight. I checked the handle for a lock, but there wasn’t one, same as Aydin’s room, and there was also a mirror in here, too.

I could secure the door with a chair and hang a sheet over the glass. Just in case.

Walking to the window, I peered through the curtains, taking in the rundown courtyard below with dead leaves covering the patches of grass, the remnants of a fallen tree, and a fountain in the center of the drive that held a couple inches of rainwater that had now turned brown.

It was a mess compared to the inside of the house. There may be outdated décor, torn drapes, and peeling wallpaper, but it was clean in here.

For now.

I left the room and closed the door behind me, trailing around the rest of the second floor, opening every door, every closet, and looking out every window to get a lay of the land.

I headed for the stairs to explore the rest of the first floor, but a floorboard creaked above me, and I stopped, looking up to the ceiling.

Footfalls moved from my left to my right, the wooden floor whining under the weight of whoever was up there, and I swallowed the lump in my throat,