The oddest thing though, isn’t any of these quirks. It’s that the place looks like someone strung several different houses together to make one. A castle made of cardboard.
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but who lives here?” I ask, leaning forward to get a better view.
“Dracula,” Max answers. “Count Dracula with Alzheimer’s.”
“This place was built recently,” Valery interjects. “It had to be put together quickly.”
“Looks like the high-class craftsmanship of carnies.” I glance at Charlie. She’s staring out the side window, not paying attention to where we are. I grip her knee, and her head jerks in my direction. She smiles, but the gesture slides off her face as soon as she realizes what she’s doing. It’s like ever since Grams passed, she won’t allow herself to be happy. Like if she does, she’ll be admitting life can be good again. And she’s not ready for that yet.
Valery pulls closer to the mansion and throws the SUV in park. We file out of the vehicle, Charlie last. The seven of us gaze up at the house. I can smell the ocean in the distance. The salt wraps around my body, making my skin feel tight, and already I want to shower. I can do big cities, and small cities, and the even the occasional mountaintop is cool. But oceans are ridiculous. They take up way too much space in this overcrowded world and are filled with creatures that have several sets of teeth, like one row of man-eating teeth isn’t enough. And just to add insult to injury, all that water isn’t even drinkable. If you ask me, the ocean is kind of a prick.
Max leads the way toward the front door, even though he made it clear during the trip that he’s never been here before. In fact, he made it clear about a hundred times. I don’t think he’s pleased that Valery never told him about the Hive. That makes two of us, but I’m trying to accept that Red can’t share everything she knows. Trying being the key word.
When we get to the main door, Max raises his hand to knock.
“That won’t do anything.” Valery pulls a skeleton key from her purse. After a quick snapping sound, she pushes the door open. We file past her and into an entrance area with a black-and-white tiled floor that’s covered with dust. Built recently, my arse.
When I look up from the grimy floor, my jaw drops.
There are seventeen doors in total, and it seems the room’s sole purpose is to confuse guests when deciding which to take. Some doors are three stories up, with narrow, winding staircases stretching toward them. Others are wide and sit along the floor, so short I’d have to bend to enter. Similar to the exterior of the house, each door is painted a different color. The overall impression reminds me of a carnival funhouse.
“Before we go any farther, I need your phones,” Valery says. “They have trackers in them, and we don’t want anyone picking up the signal. It was a gamble we had to take before, but not now.”
“It was a gamble you had to take,” Blue mumbles, slapping his cell into her palm. I guess I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know Valery was tracking our asses.
Charlie hands over her phone, and then Red turns to Aspen and Max. “Phones,” she demands.
I can’t help but laugh when Aspen and Max look equally shocked.
“How on earth did you bug my phone?” Aspen asks with a note of approval.
At the same time, Max says, “Woman, you’re so hot.”
“If you guys don’t have phones,” Annabelle interjects, “how am I supposed to call my parents? My mom will come looking for us. With a shotgun.”
Valery pulls on a green-and-white earring shaped like a ladybug. “I’ve informed her that there will be times when she can’t reach you. After all, college prep classes take a lot of studying. And with senior year fast approaching, parents need to become accustomed to their children being independent.”
Annabelle balks. “That’s what you told them? There’s no way they bought that! Then again, my mom would eat that up, wouldn’t she—me spending my winter break studying?”
After dismissing Annabelle’s disbelief, and ensuring she has us all in proper hostage fashion, Valery spins on her heel, approaches a set of rickety stairs, and climbs. She arrives at a green door on the second story and then slides in the key.
“What is this place?” Aspen asks.
I spin around and look at her. She almost surprises me standing there, her diamond nose ring winking in the dim light. Ever since Charlie arrived in Denver, it’s been hard to concentrate on anything else. My cheeks warming, I remember our last conversation ended with Aspen’s hand whipping across my face. I still recall how I felt in Grams’s room, and I’m determined to liberate her soul. Assignment or no, I want to ensure her afterlife is secure. She meets my gaze and doesn’t look away. I can’t tell whether she’s forgiven me for pushing her about her father.
Someone’s hand slips into mine. Charlie. My heart leaps at seeing this small sign of life, and I waste no time gripping her fingers, reminding her that I’m here.
Valery doesn’t answer Aspen. She just opens the door, and we follow behind. On the other side are more doors, and when Valery opens yet another one, there are even more behind that. Each room holds the obnoxious scent of fresh paint, and I wonder how often the doors are painted.
Altogether, there are three sets of doors beyond the entrance, all various colors distracting the eye. Like a poisonous flower, I think. When we move through the last door, I’m relieved to find a large open room. The smell of paint is gone, replaced by a faint lemon scent. The ceiling has thick white beams, and the floor is constructed of aged wood. In the center of the room is a long table with fourteen chairs. And at one end, facing us with knowing eyes, is someone I’ve seen before. He looks to be about twenty years old but carries himself like a king.
“Kraven,” Valery says.
The guy rises and strides toward us, his shoulders squared. He’s dressed all in white, which is pretty bold, even for an angel. “I had started to worry,” he says. He sounds exactly like he did the night Rector attacked. His voice is alarmingly calm, like nothing has ever frazzled him.
He sounds like I did before I fell for Charlie.
“We stayed in Peachville a few extra days for…” Valery’s eyes dart toward Charlie.
“Right,” Kraven answers.
I keep staring at Kraven’s shoulders, disappointed that I don’t see wings peeking above them. Do they come out of his back like they almost did for me? If so, how does that even happen?
Kraven looks at each of us in turn, starting with me. His eyes linger on my face for a long while, like he’s considering what to say, if anything. After a moment, he moves to Charlie. “How are you?” he asks. His tone is so sincere that I decide I may not hate the guy. Not that I ever did, but I do have a serious case of wing envy. I mean, Max and I have been talking about this dude ever since That Night.
Charlie nods, and I wrap my arm around her waist. Kraven studies my arm there, but I don’t remove it. If he has issues with PDA, his conservative ass can look elsewhere.
Next, the dude in white moves to Aspen. He looks at her with disinterest. “The assignment?” he asks.
Valery nods. “Yes. Her name’s Aspen.”
Aspen tilts her chin up like she’s not about to be dismissed, but Kraven doesn’t notice; he’s already moved on to Blue. Not much to see there, he must decide, because he quickly steps away from Blue and closer to Max.
“Why is he here?” Kraven asks. Though Cyborg Guy doesn’t show much emotion, even I can tell he’s pissed to find a collector among us.