Page 96 of An Inheritance of Monsters

Finally, I pulled back a sheet to reveal a painting of the manor itself.

The artist had depicted a woman at the gates… and her face had been smudged into a smear of unrecognizable colors.

“Perhaps you will find more answers on this island than you were expecting.” Voraal rested a hand on my shoulder, claws gently indenting my skin. “You are not the only one to have seen the lost souls, or struggled with the power.”

I had the sense that there was something he desperately wanted to tell me, but wouldn’t.

Or couldn’t.

I studied the painting, long since cracked with age, as the wheels in my head turned… and pieces clicked into place.

My sense of serenity and contentment only grew. It felt good to finally have spoken of those young traumas out loud, and now I felt that my journey was coming to its real destination.

“Thank you for showing me, Voraal.” I put my hand over his. “I used to think it was a burden, but now I believe it’s all by design. I’m so glad I came here.”

He wrapped his arms around me, pressing his lips against my hair.

“Who was she?” I asked.

Voraal studied the painting, his eyes flicking over to theV’uthlidepicted with near-photographic detail. “Sarah Marsh. The one who started it all.”

Chapter28

Juno

My monsters knew me well enough to give me time after I’d unloaded so much on them.

Voraal brought me back to my room, brushed my hair behind my ears, and pressed a kiss against my forehead before vanishing into the closet.

I knew that the door would open for me the moment I decided to return to the Void, but I had real life things to take care of.

First of all, I knew I was going to vanish from the memory of everyone I had ever met… and although I disagreed with where it had gone, I wantedSpirit Squadto be left in good hands.

With my Black Book missing, it would be impossible to hand over the details of several contacts, but Crispy would have most of them stored on his hard drive.

And Sierra would eventually become the face of the show. We’d never been great friends, but the least I could do was tell her she was doing amazing and to keep it up.

But she wasn’t in her room.

I frowned at the still-smoldering incense stick left on her dresser and the circle of crystals on the floor. She wasn’t in her bathroom, either.

I passed by Jack and Carson’s shared room and Porter’s closed door, and continued down to the kitchen.

Not there, either.

She had to be somewhere in the manor. It was still storming outside, another rolling wave of thunder crashing over the house as I stood in the dark kitchen.

Everyone was using candles to get by since the power still hadn’t come back on, so it was unlikely she was exploring unknown territory in the dark.

I tried the parlor next, which was empty. And then a faint creak met my ears from down the hall.

She was probably filming in the greenhouse—Jack had told me she was working on the Ruby and Sophie segments.

But as I rounded the corner, intending to push the greenhouse doors open, the sight in front of me stopped me dead in my tracks.

Rain poured over the glass walls of Ruby’s greenhouse, but the constant flicker of lightning kept everything bright enough to see.

Sierra’s camera was left forgotten on a potting table, and a pot of orchids had smashed on the floor. She leaned against the table, groaning with every creak of the table as Carson West plowed into her from behind.

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