Page 55 of Tainted Serenity

“Lily,” the voice behind me sings, and I try to block out the sound.

I have despised that name for as long as I can remember. It was the name my mother gave me—a name that doesn’t deserve to come up to the surface again.

From the voice, it sounds like he is far away, but still, I continue forward through all the corridors and their darkness, lit by flaming torches that devour the shadows in their glow.

When I reach the end of the corridor, I finally catch sight of something familiar—the cold and impersonal walls that Irene has led me past several times on the way to Daxton’s office. Spotting the rusty door ahead, I make a hasty decision and chance that Arthur won’t look for me in there. As quiet as a mouse, I sneak toward the door, all the while casting nervous glances behind my back to make sure Arthur isn’t anywhere near me.

The handle feels sluggish in my hands, my arms tremble from the sheer adrenaline rushing through my body, and I sincerely hope the door isn’t locked. If it is, I have wasted the majority of precious minutes of escaping.

I don’t even realize I’ve been holding my breath until my lungs burn with the need to breathe, and a light dizziness makes the door in front of me appear to be swirling around.

With a soft click, the door slides open, and I feel myself wanting to cry out of relief.

The office is dark, and I hurry inside before closing the door. My heart pounds hard in my chest as I wait for the verdict, hoping Arthur doesn’t figure out where I am. I need to find a place to hide, perhaps behind the doctor’s chair or in some cupboard if I can empty it.

The dull darkness with only a table lamp lit to my right obscures any movement near me. In fact, I don’t even notice another pair of breaths beyond my own.

When I finally turn around to face the rest of the room, I bump into what feels like a soft yet hard wall of something solid. A squeal rises from my throat, but before any sound can escape my mouth, a hand silences me.

With terror, I look up and stare straight into the eyes of Daxton. He gives me a silent warning by widening his eyes slightly before he removes his hand from me.

I scramble behind him, using him as a shield from the inevitable outside the steel door.

Daxton turns around to look at me, taking in my messy appearance and trembling body.

“What happened?”

His voice is filled with so much concern it almost startles me. It’s a stark contrast to how he sounded during our argument last week at the ball. We didn’t end that conversation on a good note, and I am not sure what his motives are right now.

I shake my head, but he grabs my arm in a soft grip, urging me to speak.

“He’s coming,” I whisper through a sore throat, fear clogging my very essence at the true horror of what lies ahead.

I thought Grimhill Manor was horrible, but this gets the medal of evil, and I am caught in the middle of that devastating storm. Who knows what Arthur will do when he catches up to me?

“Who?”

Before he even finishes the sentence, his mouth hangs open with emotions I cannot understand. Strangely, I never once feared him, despite his unpredictable mood. He has become a friend through all the horrors, patching me up more times than I can count when Grey wasn’t here with me. We are both stuck here, though I haven’t dared to ask him about his reasons.

“What happened?”

His eyes flicker over to the door as if he can hear something outside that I can’t. Before I know it, he has pushed me toward the desk that lingers in the corner of the rearranged room. The light barely illuminates my being, but Daxton shifts it toward him instead, casting me in the darkness that allows me to be hidden.

Within only a few seconds, someone knocks on the door. Daxton takes his time to open it, only doing so halfway before he greets whoever is outside. An icy cold shiver washes over me when I hear Arthur’s voice, and there is this small part of me that fears Daxton will rat me out. Expose me to the devil in human disguise.

“Have you perhaps seen Naya?” Arthur’s voice is full of authority, showing who is in control of the conversation.

“I’m afraid I haven’t, sir.”

I hear clothes shifting, and I can only assume it’s Arthur who peeks over Daxton’s shoulder. It seems as though he doesn’t quite believe Daxton’s words, leading me to ponder about their history together and why Daxton even works here.

“Can I come in?”

I can almost feel the panic mixed with irritation that must wash over Daxton at this moment as he stands there, trying to dissuade Arthur from checking inside the office.

“It isn’t a good time right now. I’m in the middle of research, and to reach the utmost result, I need privacy.”

It’s the first time I’ve heard Daxton speak with as much authority as Arthur does.

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