Page 84 of Whispered Warnings: Part Two

I roll my eyes but smile and reply, “Thanks. We’re probably going to need it.”

The guys grab the food, and then we head back out the way we came, this time with all of our stuff. The crowd parts easily, probably because they don’t want to be accidentally smacked with one of the bags.

Once we’re back in the van, Doc asks, “How far away is your house?”

“It’s probably about a twenty-minute drive from here,” I reply as we pull out of the parking lot.

Fortunately, the drive to the house is over quite quickly, and soon, the entrance that you can only see if you know it’s there comes into view, and I pull up the long, winding, and overgrown driveway. We reach a set of wrought iron gates, and as we approach, they open for us, moving smoothly.

“Those gates weren’t electric,” Raiden says as he glances behind us at the gates as we go through them.

I shake my head with a smile.

The house is big, and around four hundred or so years old. It’s built with old stone, has several steepled roofs with tall chimneys for the many fireplaces inside, and huge windows that let in a lot of light. You would think that it would be drafty and cold, but it’s quite the opposite; in the winter, it’s warm even without the fires lit, and in the summer, it’s nice and cool. The grounds would have once been manicured and designed to perfection, but whatever magic is keeping the house from crumbling doesn’t extend to the grounds, and they are now overgrown, the features that were once here buried under decades of growth.

Whenever I actually manage to visit, I try to clear up some of the garden. I would love to have it looking like it once did, and I have a feeling that the house would like that too. Unfortunately, I’m never here for a casual visit, I’m always on a job or hiding or something similar and I never have much time. Maybe nowthat I am working for SID, I will be able to get some time off to come here and actually make a good dent in sorting the grounds. If the guys want to help as well, then I will get so much more done. They aren’t small guys, and they have magic. I’m sure that would be very helpful. That’s not likely to happen any time soon though. We have the hybrid case and my weirdness. I’m not even sure what to call it anymore. We aren’t going to find the time, but as soon as we do get a moment, then I’m going to suggest coming here.

Oh, or maybe Scotland to see Griff’s family and get some answers about why I could hear him those two times. It’s not a very long flight to Scotland from here, maybe we could do both. That would be really cool.

The house is sitting in darkness, which is understandable because no one has stayed here since I last did. We all get out of the van, bags in hand, and the guys confusion mounts as it just looks like a normal house, well taken care of, big and old.

“Alright so what’s so weird about this place? It just looks like a normal house,” Doc says, “it’s in really good condition.”

I smile, “Well, one, no one has lived here or owned it for about four hundred years. It doesn’t have a caretaker.”

“What?” he asks.

“Come on,” I smile as I walk up the wide steps. Suddenly, the house lights up, and every single light is on.

“Whoa, automatic lights?” Reed asks.

I shake my head, “Nope, that’s the house.”

“The house turned the lights on?” Evander asks, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

I reach out for the door handle and try to turn it, finding it locked, “Oh come on. I’m sorry it has been so long since I visited.”

“Who are you talking to?” Griff asks.

“The house,” I explain, as I try the door again, and it still won’t open. “I really am sorry.”

The sound of a door slamming loudly in the house makes everyone jump.

“What the hell?” Van questions.

“Is your house arguing with you?” River asks, his eyes lighting up with fascination.

I sigh, “Yeah.” Turning my attention back to the house, “Look, I brought people, new people.”

The whole house creaks, and then the door pops open.

“It was locked,” Ransom says, clearly struggling with the whole thing.

“It was,” I reply, as I move toward the door, it slams. “Hey! Not funny! Do you want me to go and find a hotel to stay at? Be nice!”

“She’s telling a house off,” Doc says incredulously.

“Apparently, the house needs to be told off,” River replies, taking everything in his stride, like normal.

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