Bitter Blood (BBi)

Chapter 45: House of the Wicked

Chapter Forty-Five
House of the Wicked

I make myself wait until ten the next morning before I load Blue into the Impala and drive towards Maryvale Lane, Lochton.

I look up the directions to the place prior to leaving the house so once I'm in the city all it comes down to is finding that specific street and lot number. I discover it's located in the suburban outskirts of Lochton; a district of houses built on straight streets with level sidewalks and lively lawns.

Elise Kingsley's house is no disappointment.

It's three, maybe four, times the size of my house back in Westershade, spanning two levels, and built entirely from dark grey stone. Metal fences surround the property with two tall gates at the front set to guard a pathway leading to the front door.

I get out of the car and Blue shimmers invisible. We approach the gates cautiously together.

The arch above the gates has a phrase carved into it;

Non pugnare ignis, ignis.

I don't even know what language that is let alone what it says.

I'm just starting to wonder how I'm going to get inside when the metal gates clang and unlock, swinging inward as if carried by a phantom wind.

I look down at Blue and he stares up at me. We both turn back to the house.

I take a deep breath, nod to myself and walk inside the gate. A tall, green hedge runs around what I expect to be the entire perimeter of the house. I move along the path and up the stone steps to the front door. A knocker rests against the middle of the dark wood; a golden, roaring lion etched with incredible detail. But the door itself is ajar, rendering it pointless.

I push gently against it and it creaks open.

“Hello?” I call. My voice echoes through the quiet house.

I wish I could reach down and scoop Blue up but getting caught holding and talking to empty air wouldn't look especially sane.

I take a step inside and then another when nothing happens. My footsteps are soft thumps against the wooden floorboards. I call out again.

When no answer comes, not even the smallest sound that I can detect, I take a few more cautious steps further into the foyer. A large staircase is right up ahead; there's a small landing and then it splits in two, leading in opposite directions up to the second level. A large, arched window opens the wall behind the landing. I glimpse what looks like trees beyond it.

I wander further in, feeling incredibly uncomfortable in this stranger's home. Was it possible I'd picked the wrong house?

But then again; the gate opened on it's own and the front door was left ajar. Someone knew I was coming.

I walk into the large sitting room adjacent to the foyer. There's four arm chairs centered on a glass table and a fire place filled with new logs of wood to burn. There are books everywhere; above the fireplace, on small tables around the room, stacked on the floor. The walls are lined with photographs and paintings of various things. I move closer to one in particular that has caught my attention.

It's an illustration in vivid colour of a woman with a sword pointed at a wolf's heart, whose back is to the ground and jaws open wide in a roar that almost echoes from the painting. My eyes drop down to the small plaque at the bottom. Once again, that foreign sentence; Non pugnare ignis, ignis.

"Do not fight fire with fire."

I startle and whip around, my eyes wide when I lay them on Elise. She is, despite what society would speculate, the opposite of the green-skinned Wicked Witch of the West. She's wearing a long white sleeveless dress that brushes the floor, feet bare and hair tied up in a pony tail.