Page 42 of A Trial By Blood

His lips twitched again as he gripped my hand tighter and headed for the staircase. The elderly male passed by us without batting an eyelid. God, so weird. Ronan led me to the top floor, and we stared down a long hall. It had dark wood wall panels and a long red, black, and gold carpet that ran the length of it. Portraits had been hung between each of the many closed doors.

I didn’t know what it was, but the creepiness factor rose like ten notches. “Do you feel that?” I said.

“What?”

“Like someone walked over your grave. Something up here gives me goose bumps and not the good kind.”

“There’s a good kind?”

I looked up at him in surprise. “You’ve never had goose bumps?”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s when your skin gets all tingly and tiny bumps lift all over your skin. It can feel kind of nice, depending on the circumstances.”

“Then yes, I have experienced it.” His stare stayed intense.

I wanted to ask when, but the way he was looking at me, I was having trouble thinking.

“We’ll start here,” he said, tearing his gaze from mine and moving to the first door.

“Should we split up?”

“No,” he said, in a way that said it wasn’t open for discussion.

We walked in and Ronan turned on the light.

“Won’t he see that if he comes up here?”

“No.”

Okay, Ronan was seriously powerful. All the time he’d been visiting me, he’d barely ever talked about himself. I’d asked questions and he’d given me short answers and changed the subject, and after talking to Luna, I knew why. My heart clenched, and I gripped his hand tighter at the thought of what he must have been through.

“There’s nothing in here.” He led me to the closet and opened the door.

It was empty. A creaking sound came from downstairs, like hinges that needed oiling. I listened, but the current owner of the house stayed downstairs.

We made our way along the hall, searching the rooms until there were only two left. Ronan pushed one of the doors open and we stepped in. This bedroom was being used. There were two large dressers and a massive bed, a desk, and a huge freestanding wooden wardrobe. The sheets were thrown back, the bed unmade. There was a large mirror on the other side of the room, and I walked over to check it out. It was the perfect size to hide something behind. Like a safe or whatever? I felt around, but it was secured to the wall firmly. “Ouch.” There was a sharp piece on the edge, and I’d cut my finger. I sucked on it…

The glass rippled.

I turned back and blinked several times. But it kept rippling. My ears felt blocked and there was pressure behind my eyes.

A face appeared in front of me. I jumped and spun around, but no one stood behind me. I turned back to the mirror.

Ronan rushed over. “What is it?”

“The old man, the one from downstairs, he’s right there…” My voice trailed off when his face flashed from old and wrinkled to young and handsome. It flickered back and forth between the two faces.

“Rose?”

“You can’t see that?”

“See what?” Ronan’s voice turned urgent.

“I think…I think I’m having some kind of vision.” The faces kept flickering. “Two faces, one young and one old, the man downstairs,” I started. “Blood. There’s blood covering them, both of them. Coating their skin, their hair.” Then it was gone.

I stumbled back, and Ronan grabbed me, steadying me. He turned me to him, a look of concern covering his face. Something I’d never seen from Ronan before.