Page 42 of Owned

Something flickered across his face—surprise maybe—but it was gone too quickly to be sure. “Is everything— Are you okay?”

I laughed without humor. “How am I supposed to answer that?”

His jaw tightened. He knew why I was upset—why wouldn’t I be?

“What do you want?” His gaze swept over me.

I bit my lip. “It’s too quiet in there. I needed some air.”

“A little bird frightened of silence?” He was teasing me again.

“I’ve been— lonely,” I admitted. “I needed someone to talk to.”

“Someone?” He pretended to look shocked, then gave me a half-smile. “Someone or just me?”

I felt a warmth spread through me like wine, dark and disorienting, but I didn’t have any intention of answering his question.

“What are you doing?”

A flicker of something darker passed over his features. “Tending to the plants,” he said. “They needed some care.”

“Which ones?”

“The ones I warned you about.”

“The poisonous ones?” I glanced at the bed of pale flowers behind him, half-expecting them to reach out for me with long, bony fingers. “They look harmless.”

“Don’t get too close,” he said. “Sometimes the most innocent looking ones are the most dangerous.”

“How deadly are they?”

His smile grew a little sharper and his eyes fixed on me like he was seeing something he hadn’t noticed before. “Why are you so interested?”

I shrugged and took a few steps closer to the bed. The flowers seemed to lean toward me—or was I imagining things? “I was never very good with plants… Why do you take care of them?”

“I told you,” he said, but his voice was soft, as though my question amused and saddened him at the same time. “It’s to honor my mother. She was the one who taught me how to care for plants like these. Dangerous plants need more care than the others…”

I snatched my hand back.

Why was I reaching for them?

A murmur in the back of my mind sounded like laughter, and I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Would you like to see her?” he asked.

I hesitated. “Her grave? She’s buried here in the garden, isn’t she?”

He nodded.

Horrifying. Why would she be buried here?

But how many other bodies were scattered around the estate? How many ghosts haunted this place?

Too many,the grimoire whispered back.

“She’s buried here, but I don’t come here to remember her.”

“Why?”

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