Darkening Around Me by Barbara J. Hancock

Author:Barbara J. Hancock [Hancock, Barbara J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781460330685
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Meager sunlight filtered into the halls of Thornleigh through smudged panes. In those weak but warm rays, dust motes hung suspended, little specks in time and space. I wandered, released from the nighttime refuge of my room, hesitant to seek out O’Keefe.

I needed to talk to him about Mary. I needed to tell him what I’d seen. But I could still feel his touch on my skin.

I’d always been decisive. Taking action—to recover, to train, to travel—had saved me following the attack.

Thornleigh changed that. I was like one of those dust specks held suspended by compulsions and conflicting desires. There was a wrongness here and I couldn’t run away from it. Somehow I felt I would carry it with me. There was also something so right about O’Keefe that I couldn’t imagine leaving him behind and never seeing him again.

This morning I went up instead of down, climbing a single narrow flight of stairs to the attic beneath the eaves. A sound had drawn me this way instead of that. There had been a fluttering murmur cut off by a slight cry that might have been nothing more than a poor mouse in a trap, but I thought it might have been a bird that had found its way inside and now couldn’t get back out. The idea of a trapped sparrow starving to death in the dark and dusty upper realms of the great old house bothered me until I came out and up. Checking out the attic seemed more practical than trying to solve Mary’s deep-seated issues and definitely easier to deal with.

Don’t explore the shadows, O’Keefe had said.

The natural tendency to feel like an intruder in a new place was heightened by the strangeness I’d already encountered here. I stepped lightly, not exactly sneaking around but definitely not proclaiming my presence.

The sound came again more muffled than before. What if the bird had gotten tangled in some stored junk? What if it wasn’t only trapped, but hurt?

I hurried, taking the last few treads quickly. I tried the small door at the top half, expecting an unresponsive knob to make my efforts in vain. But the brass knob turned with a rattle beneath my fingers and the small door, about three quarters the size of a regular door, creaked open.

Dry, stale air crept out to greet me as if I’d unsealed a tomb. There was less sunlight here and I paused in spite of my concern for whatever creature might be caught in its final resting place, mouse or sparrow, because I couldn’t see.

I blinked. I strained my eyes. I looked hard into the shadows. I could make out the outline of eclectic clutter. The attic must have stretched across much of the house, but I could only feel the size of it. I couldn’t see the far reaches. Several small dormer windows did allow slight illumination, but they were dirty and covered with sagging old lace. The weak sunlight was caught and filtered harshly through yellowed lace webs.

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