The door to the left revealed a dining room, its giant picture window covered in more tin foil and topped by a heavy velvet curtain. Totally out of place in the tropics. I could make out a long table large enough to seat twelve. Matching chairs had been pushed back against the walls like it was a ballroom, and black garbage bags covered the floor beneath the table. Weird. Another door led to what I assumed was the kitchen. I left the room to Kabita and crossed to the other side of the hall.
The main room ran the full side of the house and, like the dining room, its large windows were completely blocked off. Still, I could easily make out the low huddled forms of sofas, easy chairs, and side tables. The room was as empty as the rest of the house, but still I could feel that gripping on the back of my skull that told me vamps were nearby.
"I'm headed upstairs." Kabita's whisper broke the silence. I turned to see her standing in the doorway, her flashlight pointed at the floor so it wouldn't blind me. Who was I kidding? Kabita knew all my best freakish qualities.
"Sure thing. I'm going to poke around down here some more." I couldn't say why, but I had the strongest feeling our answers lay here, not on the floor above. Kabita nodded and disappeared. I could just make out the sound of her footsteps ascending the back stairs.
I returned to prowling the room. Heavy velvet drapes graced every window despite the aluminum foil. Double security, I guessed. Someone had hung matching drapes on the opposite wall to balance the room. It was weird, but it kind of worked. All dramatic and stuff. I frowned, wondering why. The room wasn't that large that it needed balancing. Why not just paint the wall or hang pictures or something? Why hang curtains?
I swished back the first curtain, revealing bare white wall. The next was the same. By the time I reached the last curtain, I was starting to think I was an idiot, but instead of bare wall, there was a cheap wooden door.
"Oh, bravo," I murmured, pushing it open. A set of stairs led down into what was clearly a basement. All righty then.
Leaving the door open, I made my way around the room, shoving back curtains and ripping foil off the windows. Light flooded the space and filtered down the stairs. Perfect. Anyone running up here would either be human, or they'd dust. Well, they could be demon, but hopefully it wouldn't come to that.
Blinking my eyes against the bright light, I made my way quietly down the stairs. My eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light, sharpening edges and picking out details. I cursed silently as I realized the Darkness had risen again without my bidding. We were going to have a chat one of these days, the Darkness and me.
At the bottom of the stairs was yet another door. What was with these people and doors? I pushed it open to reveal another hallway with still more doors. The door on the left was a small storage room filled with random bits and pieces: old cans of paint, the remains of a broken chandelier, a box of faded, dusty magazines. Nothing to get excited about. The door on the right…. I pushed it open and immediately froze. I could hardly comprehend what I was seeing.
It was a small room, maybe eight feet by eight, with a low ceiling and fake wood paneling. The red shag carpet under my feet had seen better days, and the brass sconces on the wall held fake electric candles. It was like something out of a really bad '70s porno, complete with the large, faux mahogany desk in the middle of the room. And behind that desk? Alister Jones.
"Morgan," he said, placing the tips of his fingers together in a classic Evil Villain move. He actually looked pleased to see me.
"Alister," I spat, "what are you doing here?"
"Oh, a little of this. A little of that." He tapped his forefinger on something lying on his desk. I craned my neck to see. It was a book. I recognized the symbol on the cover. It was the book Jack and I had been all over half of France looking for.
I scowled at him. "That book does not belong to you." I had to get it away from him. We still had no idea what we needed it for, only that leaving it in Alister's hands was a really bad idea.
He ignored me. "I've been waiting for you."
"Excuse me?"
His smile was beyond smarmy and into the creepy zone. Then he frowned. "Your amulet."
"What about it?" Great. Now Alister was obsessed with the thing.
"You're not wearing it." His eyes narrowed, anger flashing in their depths.
"No. I'm not." And that was all he was getting from me. I could almost see the frustration boiling beneath his skin. I had no idea what Alister had planned for me and my amulet, but leaving it behind on the ship had been an unexpected stroke of brilliance. Curses. Foiled again, eh, Alister?
"Ah well, no matter," he said, picking up a silver letter opener and twirling it between his fingers before placing it back on the desk. "I have a lovely little surprise for you. Oh, and by the way? You'll never get your hands on this book."