Page 43 of A Wild Darkness

“It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I gave you my word I’d do it.” Naturally, she’s apprehensive, but there is confidence in her voice. “Besides, I have my own desire to do this, remember?”

“Fair enough,” I say. And with one swift shove, the door creaks open.

A dusty, earthy scent drags under my nostrils, the similar smell to the library we have back at Thompson Manor, but from my quick look around the dimly lit space, it’s much larger in scale. I step in first, gripping Stevie’s hand tightly to keep her behind me.

My back flexes at the other people in the room. My free hand slowly swings around my back to rest on the handgun safely tucked into my waistband. My eyes dart between seven people standing before us, dressed in black cloaks concealing their entire bodies.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a stern voice booms from the one to the far left.

“Who are you?” I ask.

My eyes continue to sweep the room, checking for any hidden threats, but all I see are tall shelves filled with old books and small sitting areas lit by vintage lanterns positioned on opposite corners of the room.

The figure who spoke steps forward. Possibly the leader. “You must be the Dark Prince, I presume?”

“That’s correct.” My hand hovers over the gun even though they told me not to bring one. Like I ever listen to what other people say anyway.

“And the beautiful lady with you?” He gestures toward Stevie.

“Yes, I’m his girlfriend,” she answers before I can.

“She speaks,” he taunts, bringing his hands into a praying position in front of his chest. “And your name?”

“Annabel Lee.” Stevie’s words come out without hesitation, but I pause, instantly recognizing the name. I never had a favorite poem, but now I do.

The cloaked man nods his head. “We have a poet among us?”

“No. I’m simply a muse for the dead.” Her eyes capture mine.

“We respect that around here, as each one of us has a…unique relationship with the living and the dead.”

A low and eerie chuckle rumbles between the cloaked members, and I can’t explain why the sound irritates me that they have something up on us. I’m usually not in the position of being at the mercy of others.

“Enough with the small talk,” I command. “Let’s get down to business.”

“A little controlling, are we?” he comments.

“Yes, my girlfriend and I would like to make sure we are around people with similar interests as us. The man I spoke with on the⁠—”

“That was me,” he interrupts.

“Great. And since you know our names…we’re going to need to know yours, too.”

“Of course.” He turns to the dark figures standing less than ten feet away, and with a slight nod of his head, the first one speaks.

“Larry.” A figure steps forward.

“And I’m Silas,” the leader says. “That’s all you get for now.”

I hide my frustration with the secrecy, but I understand it. They have to learn to trust us first, because to them, they have more to lose. The Society doesn’t know if we are people trying to expose them or kill them—which we are.

“Fine,” I bite back. “So when will we get more information?”

“Eager to join, aren’t you, Dark Prince?”

“We’re called here, and now you’re telling us to wait?”