Saige cried herself to sleep that afternoon. She would have preferred to never wake again, to be an eternal sleeping beauty who drifted in the dark. But her consciousness pulled itself from its slumber, her lids peeling open. Her bedroom was dark. It was night outside. A single streak of moonlight illuminated the duchess and mirror.
Saige fumbled for her bedside lamp, her hand seeming to stretch into never-ending darkness. She found the switch. The light powered on. Disturbing shadows flickered along the walls. She shivered, aghast by the icy wind that caressed her skin. The window was open.
I definitely closed it.
She climbed off the bed. Even the rug was cold beneath her feet. Chilly air seeped through her socks, numbing her toes.
Something isn’t right.
She crept closer to the window. She couldn’t see anything, but she had the distinct impression that something waited outside in the night. Just beyond the curtain. Just beyond Saige’s reach.
This is madness. Get out of here.
Get. Out. Of. Here!
The words hung in Saige’s mind, but her feet didn’t meet the command. Instead of running for the door, her legs wandered closer to the window. She raised her hand. Her fingertips touched the curtain.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Saige leapt back. Her heart fluctuated in her chest.
Someone was knocking—no, belting against the bedroom door.
“Saige? Are you in there? Are you okay?”
At first she didn’t recognise the voice. She’d never heard it spoken with such panic.
Xavier.
“Saige?” His voice was frantic.
Bang, bang, bang.
His fists pounded the door again. The handle rattled. “It’s locked,” he shouted to someone who must have been in the hallway.
Saige’s stomach ached, like there was a little bird inside, fluttering to get out.
No. That’s not possible. I didn’t lock the door.
“Saige?”
That time it was her father.
She shook her head, driving out the confusion that clouded her mind. She hurried to the door and unlocked it.
“Oh thank God.” Her father took her up in his arms. Saige couldn’t understand why he was shaking. She peered at her brother. Xav stood in the doorway, his face pale. Sweat soaked his collar.
Her eyes roamed between the pair. “What’s wrong?”
Derrick took her shoulders in his hands. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I was sleeping. For goodness’ sake, what’s wrong?”
They were acting like she’d been engulfed by a house fire.
Her brother exhaled a disappointed sigh. “We heard about the fitting. Saige, you really frightened Zoe. She doesn’t want you anywhere near us. We were afraid that you’d gone and done something….”
He didn’t have to finish for her to understand what he meant.
Done something stupid.
Now it was her time to fume, her voice snarky and out of control. “I suppose she made me out as the bad guy while she pretended to be sweet and innocent.”
Xav squeezed his eyes shut for half a second. “She was scared.”
“She’s a good actress.”
“She said you told her to end things.”
“I told her to postpone the wedding.”
“Why the hell would you do that?”
“Because this place isn’t safe. I’m trying to save Zoe.”
She hadn’t meant to yell, but for the briefest moment, it had been satisfying to see Xav wince. Neither her brother nor father had ever truly listened to her, but now she was centre stage and the spotlight was on her, and damn it, they were going to listen.
She’d hoped to sound in control, but her voice teetered toward hysteria. “It’s this place. There’s something here. Something evil. Every woman who has married into our family has died. It took Mum.”
Her father’s stern tone interrupted her. “Saige, that’s enough. For heaven’s sake. You’re frightening your brother.”
Disgust transformed Xav’s handsome face into something Saige didn’t recognise. “You’re delusional.” His swept his eyes to his father. “I told you bringing her here was a bad idea.”
Derrick lowered his head and silently nodded. “Yes. I understand that now.” He flinched when he met Saige’s glare. “I should never have made you come back to Ashvall. You didn’t want to come, and you weren’t ready. You need help, Saige. I need to make sure you receive proper care. You’re acting… just the way your mother did before she died.”
Whatever semblance of control Saige had managed to hold came crashing down. She was a dam that broke, water tearing forward in a wave, washing away everything that was sane. “I’m not crazy. Mum wasn’t crazy either.”
Hot, angry tears made her vision blurry. Her words had sounded pathetic in her own ears.
Derrick made a sound low in his throat that didn’t seem happy. “Let’s just get through the next few days. Get through the wedding, and then we’ll look at seeing what Dr Grigori can do for you when we return to London. Unfortunately, I can’t get her flown into Ashvall.”
That’s because she has other patients, too, Dad.
Geez, her family really did think the world revolved around them.
Derrick’s worry escalated in his voice. “Please stay on your medication.”
Saige was trembling with rage. “I never stopped taking it.”
Her father had stopped listening, now in full crisis control. His eyes darted between his children. “For now, let’s keep this between the three of us and Zoe. Saige, I would like you to dress for dinner and come downstairs, please.”
Vehemence rose in her body, exploding into fireworks in her brain.
“Get out,” she cried. “Get out.”
She realised now why the pair had been so afraid of the door being locked. They feared what she was capable of behind closed doors. That she could hurt herself. Or worse. But Saige wasn’t spiralling toward insanity. All she needed was someone to listen. For someone to believe her.
Jasper.
She couldn’t believe his name was the first to reach her mind. He’d hurt her. He’d caused her years of suffering. She’d sworn she’d never forgive him, but now she found that he was her only ally.
Derrick leaned back against the duchess, head down, eyes focused on the floor.
Xav shot a nasty glare at his sister. “Stay away from Zoe. And me.”
He turned and sped down the hall, his angry footsteps fading away too fast.
Saige sat on the bed silently crying. It hurt knowing that Xav had never actually wanted her at his wedding. That he’d invited her for the sake of their father. Maybe he was more suited to Zoe than Saige realised.
Maybe Xav being cut out of my life isn’t such a bad thing. We barely see each other anymore.
But even thinking it caused tears to haze her eyes.
It’s going to happen, though. After the wedding. Zoe will make sure of it.
Her father met her stare and smiled, but it was small and strained. “Dinner will be taking place soon. It’s going to be quite a show. Please, Saige, I’d like you to join us. I don’t want you to remain by yourself.”
“Why? Afraid of what I might do?”
“Yes. I am. I’m terrified you’ll meet the same end as your mother.”
Saige crossed her arms, ready to answer with a very definite no, but then she thought of the open window she had never touched, and the door she had never locked. The idea of being alone in this house, the halls dark and empty, her room full of shadows, and that acute, inescapable sense that something was present, watching her, wasn’t appealing.
She nodded. She no longer had the strength to fight.
The tension in her father’s shoulders lifted. “Thank you, Saige.” His eyes moved to her wardrobe. “Good. Fayette brought you a dress. She must have done it in the morning.”
Saige turned to the wardrobe. She was positive there’d been nothing hanging in the closet when she’d come barrelling into her room that afternoon and collapsed onto her bed. She hadn’t bothered unpacking her suitcase, and just like the window, she was certain the wardrobe doors had been closed. But now they were open. An exquisite black mermaid 1920s flapper dress hung from a hanger. It had a low V-neckline that she didn’t think her father would approve of.
Saige had forgotten that tonight’s party theme was the Roaring Twenties. Fayette had outdone herself. The dress really did look like something plucked right out of that decade, not something fabricated to look like it had come from that era. She’d have to thank the dressmaker. She’d also have to ask Fayette how she’d managed to sneak the dress into her room. Or maybe Saige really was oblivious to the things happening around her. Maybe the dress had been there all along, and she’d simply never seen it. It wasn’t an encouraging thought.
Whether it was the argument or the insurmountable fear that grew inside her, Saige did not want to be alone. At least at a party, she might be able to distract her thoughts.
If I make an effort, Dad and Xav might change their mind. I need to show them that I’m okay.
Saige wanted to feel normal. She was tired of being scared. Tired of being the girl without friends. Tired of the anxiety and depression that clouded her brain. She wanted to be the average twentysomething woman who went out and had fun, not the girl who was haunted.
Another pressing thought flittered into her mind. Harriette’s message.
I’ve found something. Talk tonight?
Saige had to be at the party.
She aimed a determined glance at her father. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
Though she knew what she had planned would take her more than half an hour.
* * *
Derrick Wolvercraft had spared no expense. Following her father into the glitzy ballroom, Saige marvelled at the splendour and finery. She felt as though she’d been transported to the age of The Great Gatsby. Black and gold balloons floated just beneath the ceiling, accompanied by cascading lights that hung from crystal chandeliers. Excessive volumes of cocktails and canapés were served on gold platters, champagne fountains topped up by waiters. Wherever Saige looked, there were glittering dresses, feather boas, and cabaret wigs. The women were exquisite in their flapper dresses, pearl necklaces, and gold dancing heels. The men were handsome in their tailored pinstriped suits, silk shirts, and black satin bow ties.
And the dancing! Saige never knew people could still dance like that. She identified the Charleston, the Black Bottom, and the Shimmy and wondered if her father had hired professionals to spice up the dance floor. Everyone was wild and carefree. The night was structured on frivolity and looser morals, and Saige loved it. She imagined Wolvercraft Manor really had seen some parties in its time.
A jazz orchestra played all the classic hits. Jasper was among them by the piano, his black tuxedo finished with a gold bow tie and matching handkerchief, his hair slicked straight back with a side part that was glossy in the flashing lights. His fingers ran expertly across the keys. Saige watched him for a moment. He was a talented musician and could play a range of music from various eras, but right now he was in his element. It was like he was meant to have been born in the 1920s.
She recalled a conversation the pair had shared on a date when they’d been in the early stages of their relationship. He’d told her that jazz was the sole reason he’d taken up music in the first place. It was his first love. The other genres had come later. Saige remembered the passion in his eyes when he’d told her.
Her heart dropped. She had missed that look, but most of all, she’d grown—no, taught herself to hate it. Jasper had broken her heart in the cruellest way possible, and she wasn’t keen on forgiveness.
She turned away. It was so easy to be sucked in by all the dancing and excitement, but she was here for a reason. Her eyes roamed the guests. She took out her phone and sent a quick text to Harriette.
Are you here? I can’t see you?
“Saige, could you come this way please?” Her father clutched her elbow and guided her toward the rest of her family.
Saige’s teeth ground together.
Oh God. We’re actually doing a receiving line.
The band stopped playing, and the MC on the stage asked everyone to form an orderly line.
Her aunts Violet and Prue started greeting guests, followed by Xav and Zoe. Zoe looked stunning in her blood-red flapper dress, sequinned with black pearls and lace, her dark hair hanging long in loose curls down her side. Her red lips tightened when she saw Saige. Even underneath all that make-up, an angry flush rose in her cheeks. Saige dropped her eyes to the floor. She felt like an intruder in her own family.
So this is why Dad really wanted me at the dinner tonight. To take part in his perfect family image.
Derrick laced his arm with hers and forced her to stand at his side. He nudged his head close to her ear. “Do this for your brother, please.”
A nasty smile tugged on her lips. “Keep up appearances, you mean?”
He flashed her a disapproving glare. “Yes, if that’s what you want to call it.”
Saige shook hands with guests and spoke polite nothings. She hoped Harriette would appear. Either the historian was running late or she’d boycotted the event.
She said she’d be here.
Saige was desperate to know what she’d discovered.
Damn it, Harriette. Where are you?
“Saige Wolvercraft.” The voice was ethereal yet familiar. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Saige shook the hand of the guest who stood before her. She froze. The woman’s fingers were soddened in blood. Saige felt the sickly mess run into her own palm. Nausea made her stomach drop unpleasantly. Even the woman’s little finger had been pulverised to a bloody pulp. Saige looked up and screamed. Her mother stared back at her. The left side of Elaine’s face appeared as though it had been run over a cheese grater, bone fragments evident in what was left of her flattened cheek. Her lips mashed against her teeth when she smiled.
Elaine’s black eyes were dead in their sockets. “Saige, sweetie. She knows.”
Saige felt her soul shrivel inside her, forcing her into a catatonic state.
Elaine spoke again, only this time her voice was like the wail of a banshee, hitting Saige with the force of a cyclonic wind. “She. Knows. She. Knows. She. Knows. She. Knows. She. Knows.”
Elaine’s body shuddered and twitched. Her blood ran down Saige’s wrist, creeping over the skin on her arm like running spiders.
“Saige?”
The voice beside her sounded far away.
“Saige?”
Arms shook her.
“Saige? Let go.”
Saige jumped, her vision swimming back into focus. Her mother was gone. The woman before her looked frightened, her skin slightly green from fear. Saige had the woman’s hand tightly gripped in her own, her fingers pressed so firmly into the lady’s skin that Saige was positive she’d leave crescent marks behind.
Saige dropped her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
The woman stumbled away, hurtling toward a man who must have been her husband.
What just happened?
Had her mother possessed the guest? Or had Saige imagined the entire episode?
No. That was Mum.
But who was she?
Who was Mum referring to?
Saige didn’t think it had anything to do with the woman her mother had possessed. She was just the vessel. A means to transfer a message.
“Saige.” Derrick’s voice beside her was a confounded reprimand. “What the hell was that? You frightened that woman half to death.”
Slowly, shakily, she stared at her father. Her brother and aunts were throwing her sidelong glances as they continued to greet and shake hands with their guests. Saige had no words to explain herself.
I need a frigging drink.
“I’m sorry.”
She pushed her way through the crowd toward the bar.