❝If there was one thing Anthony Lockwood was afraid of, it would be Carolynne Blair Lynch's pure, mere, terrifying beauty.❞
𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭? Perhaps a day that didn't go your way so now you'd...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, where Lockwood had made them all a reviving cup of tea. Holly looked like she needed it. Her customary smile was gone; her face was strained.
"I think it's in the basement." Lockwood spoke quite matter-of-factly; he seemed as calm and unmoved as ever. "I saw the figure hit the ground - not where my net was, in the middle of the tiles, but over by the wall where the arch leads to the kitchens. I don’t think we checked there. That's where the Source must be. I'll dig around."
"It was horrible," Holly quivered. "From beginning to end. Quite horrible."
Lucy leaned against the table with her mug in her hand, "you saw something, eh?"
"It wasn’t what I saw; it's what I felt. The presence of the thing," Holly shuddered.
"Yeah, it gets you that way," Carolynne said gently, "the first few times. What do you want me and Lucy to do, Anthony?" She didn't look directly at him, "I still can't feel a Source."
"Even if I don't find anything downstairs, I'll soak the area with salt solution, and lace it with iron. That should be enough, but I'd like you both to salt-wash your floors too, please, Care, just to be on the safe side. If I find the Source, all well and good. Otherwise we'll treat the whole staircase the same way. You can stay here, Holly. You look exhausted."
