Page 39 of An Inheritance of Monsters

“Roughly, yes.”

“Maybe a time-based phenomena?” Carson wondered, then shut up.

Crispy and Sierra came into the kitchen, followed by the hostess I hadn’t seen in several days.

Mrs. Marsh was as lovely as ever, but there was a hint of disgruntlement in the tilt of her mouth.

“A storm’s coming in.” She nodded to the enormous bay window over the kitchen sink. “I would suggest finishing your outdoor explorations today. Once it rains, the terrain is impossible to traverse, and these bay storms can last a while.”

I looked out at the swirling clouds in the dark, gloomy sky.

Was it a coincidence that we’d get a storm here right after the Voidstorm rolled in? Were the two worlds linked, however distantly?

“How long is ‘a while’?” Crispy asked from behind me.

Mrs. Marsh gazed out the window, that frown growing deeper. “If it’s bad, up to a week. Although, this is a fact you might all find interesting: during every single recorded instance of the Fuseli Comet passing over Duskwood Island, it was preceded by a powerful storm. Perhaps it will arrive earlier than anticipated.”

Rosalie looked up at her from the table, practically shivering with excitement as she typed rapidly on a tiny laptop. “Are there actual records of this?”

“Yes. I can bring them up later tonight—we may very well be locked in here together for some time.” Mrs. Marsh’s disgruntlement gave way to an enigmatic smile. “Perhaps there is something more to the legend than we know.”

All I could think of was the Voidstorm.

Aweekwithout seeing the monsters? I would lose my mind in a totally different way if I was cut off from them for that long.

But Mrs. Marsh interrupted my thoughts, placing her hand on mine. I realized I’d been staring out the window bleakly.

“How have you been sleeping, dear?”

I met her green eyes, and for a moment, I was sure she could see right through me.

That she knew why the storm upset me.

That she knew I hadn’t been sleeping much at all, but for much different reasons than anyone else would think.

“Great,” I said, forcing a smile and wondering if any of the light pink marks—hickeys, really— that Zirin’s suckers had left on my breasts, stomach, and legs were visible on my throat. I’d worn leggings for a reason today. “I love your house. There’s so much more here than I ever would’ve guessed.”

Something seemed to crackle between us, traveling from her hand on mine to the air between our locked eyes.

I was sure—she knew.

But then she smiled blandly, moving aside for Jack to put his coffee mug in the sink and start filling it with soapy water. “It does have quite a history,” she agreed. “I could live here for a hundred years and never know it all.”

I was washing out my coffee cup, wondering if I was being played by the enigmatic owner of this place, when Crispy appeared at my shoulder, his hair standing out like a dandelion clock.

“We’ve gotta get out there today and try to get some of the intro recorded,” he said, staring out the window at the dark sky. “We’re three days in and we’ve got nothing but scenic shots—”

“Hey.” I nudged him with my elbow and dropped my mug in the dish drainer, taking Jack’s next. Lazy ass. He’d been on dish duty today. “I’ve got the intro printed out and ready to go. Everything will be fine.”

Crispy gave me a wild look. “When haveyouever been chill about getting an episode going,Jefe?”

I stared back for a moment.

Usually I was bouncing out of my own skin as soon as we arrived at a new location, the script half-written and my hair done for it.

But ever since we’d stepped foot on this island, work had somehow drifted to the back of my mind.

“Must be something about this place,” I muttered, finishing Jack’s mug and dropping it in the strainer. “Let’s go.”

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