Page 48 of Seas the Reckoning

While the Were continues to intimidate the guests, confusing them as to exactly who or what her target is, I sprint for one of the doors. I spot one that I’m pretty sure the staff have been taking to grab food trays.

I knock into the grey-eyed woman I saw earlier. The only one who hadn’t been glaring when she watched Feral and me in the entrance hall. She’s looking up at the ceiling, listening to the voices with a faint smile on her face. She’s stunning up close, and yet somehow terrifying.

“I’m sorry,” I sputter. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I just, I have somewhere to be.”

She looks at me, the smile falling off her face, but she doesn’t appear angry. If anything, her downturned brows make her look sad.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not here for you,” she says.

Her accent marks her as American, another thing that sets her apart from most of the guests.

Is she here for Starla? Could she be working for Leon’s accomplice?

“It’s nice when certain people get what’s coming to them,” she continues. “And when I don’t have to be the one to ensure that happens. Then again, I do have work to do.”

She lets out a sigh so deep, I envision the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?” I find myself asking. Maybe I’m wrong, but something tells me she’s not a bad person. Even if her appearance is mysterious.

She raises a hand like she might place it on my shoulder but pauses first.

“May I?”

I nod.

She pats my shoulder.

“Thank you for asking. Carolina, was it? I heard some of the men here talking. You should be careful, by the way. There aren’t many real gentlemen here.”

“Leena, and thank you as well. But don’t worry. I’m aware.”

Her eyes go from cold steel to glinting metal as I offer her my preferred name, and I notice she doesn’t give me one in return.

“Pleased to meet you, Leena. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

She runs toward the door I had been aiming for, and I stare after her.

She didn’t even make a sound when she ran.

I can’t help wondering what she is. But I have enough mysteries.

You’re wasting time.

And for once, the thoughts are correct, although the panic they induce isn’t helpful.

I run for a different door along the side of the room. The manor staff are in chaos, some running back into the ballroom and others crowding the front entrance, making their way to the gardens.

“Nobody better get hurt,” I murmur to myself. At least not the staff, whose only crime is working at the site of all the answers we seek.

I’m running down the first hall I see, forcing myself to slow down when it’s clear that the area is empty. If anyone finds me now, I’ll say I got lost trying to flee.

This could be my best and only shot to explore without someone getting suspicious. I’m tired of digging for answers in the pile of men thrown at me. I can find some on my own.

There’s nothing of interest at first. I find a room with a bed and note the windows aren’t as grand as ours. Maybe the guest isn’t as important? Also a separate door next to it, a room with a tub and toilet. No en suite bath, then.

I do an incredibly quick toss of the room’s contents, in case the guest comes back, but find nothing more than a few magazines. Two on cricket, and one that, upon flipping it open, I snap shut immediately.

“And Starla thought there was a lot of nudity on Spelled By You,” I mutter, cheeks heating.