Page 71 of Grave Revelations

“Yes?” He ground through his teeth.

“I’m sorry, hon. But I need to change your sheets. Looks like no one did it before you left the hospital. It’s been a full twenty-four-hours.”

“I’m working.”

“Afraid this can’t wait.”

He seethed, slamming the laptop closed.

Hazel moved the massage table they had set up for this very exercise beside him and positioned him on his side, sliding a thin, hard mat under him. She rolled him with surprising strength.

When he was settled on the table, she moved quickly, stripping his bed, wiping it down with a microbial sponge, and replacing the bedding.

“This looks like more than twenty-four hours,” she said. “When did someone last do your leg exercises and wipe you down?”

“I can’t really say. I’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week,” he said, and Hazel gave him a stern look; she wouldn’t tolerate his sass. “It will need to wait. I have an important meeting.”

“When gangrene sets in on the backs of your calves, you won’t find that meeting so important.”

Simon gave her a skeptical look, but she rested a hand on her ample hip, and he relented. “Please be quick.”

Forty-five minutes later, he was on his bed, legs stretched and wiped down, the IV in his back checked for infection, and all his vitals read and recorded. Finally, Hazel handed him his headphones and laptop.

When he lifted the laptop screen, Rebecca’s bedroom was empty, the screen clear again. He shuffled through the video feed, looking for distorted or dark video, but found nothing. After completing a second circuit of the house, he ran the video back to when the camera in her room had gone dark.

He stopped there, hitting play.

“You were telling me about your deal for Adalaide’s sons,” Rebecca said.

There was a long pause, and Simon fast-forwarded.

“So. Your deal?”

“Get your coat.” Gabriel again.

“You promised.”

“I will answer your questions on the way.”

He followed the distorted camera feed down the stairs, through the servant’s hallway, where it stopped. They must have gone down to Alexander’s lair. Simonhad never wired cameras below the home, too concerned about what the installers might think of the basement. Now, he was kicking himself.

He turned the volume up as high as it would go, straining for any sound, but it was useless. His hearing was normal now, and the cameras couldn’t pick up their voices from that far away.

A sound down the hall caught his ear, and he scrolled through feeds until he found the camera at the front door. The knob rotated all the way around.

The door must not have been locked. It slid open on silent hinges, and three people stepped inside. They moved faster than they should have. But it was day. They weren’t night-beings. They were something else.

One darted up the stairs and rushed back to meet the others. He shook his head, saying nothing. The second darted into the living room, then back and did the same. Simon fumbled for his phone, pressing Allie’s name, and typed quickly.

There are three people in the house. They aren’t human. They’re looking for you.

Chapter 43

Sophia

Sophia dug her fingers into the side of the rock wall, pressing herself close. The witches’ chanting had been going on for more hours than she could count, humming and singing until their throats were raw and scratchy, and she heard the toll it was taking. They may have been mindless night-beings, but their bodies weren’t immune to Elizabeth's mistreatment.

A wall of over twenty witches faced the ocean. They stood in an opening not fifteen feet from where she was crouched.

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