would be the best outcome, but Nevan is our priority.”
Her heart warmed. Campbell was taking a great risk putting her brother first. She doubted she could ever repay him for this.
Campbell stopped in the middle of the corridor. “See that door at the end of hall?” He pointed ahead.
“Yes.”
“That is Mariah’s chamber.”
As if Lycansay Hall heard Campbell, the arched door creaked open of its own volition.
“Aw, shite,” Campbell said.
“Please do not say that now as I am already worried about Nevan. I don’t need you to make this matter sound worse.”
“But I fear it is.” He pushed her behind him. “I dunnae want ye anywhere near Mariah.”
“If I see a chance to save my brother, I will take it.”
Campbell turned to her and glared.
“Fine. I’ll give you this much—I’ll agree to stay behind you, but that is it. Nevan is everything to me.”
“Aye, I ken. But trust me, Sarina. This is nae a game. What is left of Mariah is nae of this earth.”
She did not need Campbell adding to her already unsteady nerves. “Please. I do not need to hear more. Let us rescue my brother and talk later.” Hopefully that would keep her Scotsman from sharing more harrowing facts about the monster who lived in this dungeon.
Creeping ahead, Sarina followed Campbell closer toward the open door. As they came within several feet of the dark cavernous space, a burst of cold air blew out from inside.
Campbell stumbled backward, as did she.
A gossamer arm shot from Mariah’s chamber and grabbed for Campbell’s face, its spectral fingers poking at his eyes and nose and mouth.
“Mine,” a disembodied voice wailed.
“Aye, Mariah, ‘tis me, Campbell.” The tone of Campbell’s voice was calm and flat, almost as if this was something he’d experienced many times. And perhaps he had, but that didn’t make it any less chilling to Sarina.
The ghostly arm pushed Campbell to the side.
It then came for her, gripped her waist and pulled her forward. It inspected Sarina’s face no different than it had skimmed Campbell’s features.
The disembodied voice gasped. It wailed, a far louder cry than before. “Tacitus,” it said, before snatching Sarina into the chamber and slamming the door.
She stood in the pitch blackness, her heart pounding. “I am not Tacitus. Nor do I have Roman blood in me. Not even a trace.”
“Sarina!”
Nevan.
Her brother collided with her, wrapped his arms around her so tight, it was hard to get air into her lungs. “I never thought you’d come,” he said with more than a touch of excitement.
She grabbed him, patted him down in the darkness, allowed her hands to be her eyes. “Are you hurt?”
Nevan backed away. “No.”
“Did she do anything to you?
“No.”
“Did she scare you?” She continued patting him, checking him over. Tears fell from her eyes.
“Sister, I have no idea why you are making such a fuss. I am perfectly safe.”
She searched for Nevan’s hand and clutched it. “Come. I am taking you out of here as soon as I find the door.”
“But I am not ready to leave.”
“You don’t have a say in the matter, Nevan. Now just be quiet so I can feel for the door.” She stumbled, her ankle giving out as her foot glided over an uneven patch of the floor.
A cold hand graced her wrist.
She gasped.
It pulled her arm forward until her palm caressed a curved piece of metal.
The door handle.
“Are you still there, Nevan?” She wanted out of the chamber and nothing was going to keep her here.
“Yes, Sister.”
The cold hand remained on her wrist.
Sarina cursed under her breath. If Mariah truly wanted to harm her, she would not have guided her to the door. “Nevan, do you still have the teeth?”
“Only the two, but yes.”
“I think you should leave them here.”
“That is exactly what Mother said.”
Fear filled her soul. “Mariah is not your mother.”
“Of course she’s not. My mother is Elsbeth. Have you forgotten her, Sister?”
“I could never forget Elsbeth. But…what is your mother doing here?”
Nevan fidgeted against Sarina’s hand. “She came with the other lady, Tacitus’s sister. That is who my mother’s line hails from.”
Now the teeth made sense. “Your grandfather was an indirect descendant of Tacitus.”
“Yes, isn’t it marvelous? I’m part wolf.”
She would have preferred Nevan’s enthusiasm be directed to the fact he’d come from the family of a great Roman legionary. But Nevan was…well…Nevan. “I think we need to leave the teeth now.”
“Very well.” Nevan pulled her through the darkness.
As did Mariah, whose cold hand remained at Sarina’s wrist.
“How is it you can see in this pitch?”
“Sister,