Blind Destiny: Grimm's Circle, Book 7 [retail mobi] (4 page)

She was here, damn it.

Here, at the home her ancestors had once owned. It was derelict now, in danger of being torn down because nobody would stay there. People would buy it, thinking to renovate it. Then they’d leave. Sometimes in the dead of night, leaving their belongings and everything behind.

Eight years ago, one group had bought it thinking to set up a boutique hotel that catered to those who liked spooks and haunts. Even
they
hadn’t stayed.

Walls that bled.

An old woman wailing.

Screaming.

Mocking laughter.

Cold spots.

Hot spots.

Whispers of death and despair.

Maniacal laughter.

Even the locals avoided this place.

Getting here had taken just about every penny she had and she’d all but lied through her teeth, promising she knew how to
fix
things.

Well, she didn’t know
how
. She just had a
way
of doing it. Fixing things. With unsettled places, as her mom had called it. And this already felt like the most unsettled place ever.

It would have to stay that way for a little while, because first they needed proof.

She
needed proof. Proof of the stories here. Proof of the secrets.

One story, one secret in particular.

For years she’d felt drawn here, ever since she’d uncovered that album in her mom’s room, all the clippings about this place, and the stories her mom had told.

She was going to find what it was that had haunted her ancestor, an aunt many generations back, but somebody who sounded like she had maybe been a little…off. Like Natasha was. She felt a weird kinship with the old woman, something she couldn’t quite explain and
that
was why she was here.

To find out about her aunt Despoina. What happened to her, why she died, why a pall had fallen on her family ever since, why this house seemed to be cursed…

There was a low, eerie sound, like leaves skittering along the grass, but there was no wind. Something seemed to brush against her skin and she could almost swear something touched her.

Behind her, the crew muttered and grumbled. Two were excited. Two were pissed. Ah, yes. All was well in her world. This was how they worked. They had an Internet show,
Monsters: Real or Imagined
, and if this went well, maybe, just maybe, that Internet show could become the real deal. Nat had dreams of Discovery Channel. Or bigger.

It would take something monumental, though, to get noticed there.

Something
huge
.

And there was something huge in front of her.

The sprawling, old house looked somewhat out of place, surrounded by quaint little shops, cafes, B&Bs…it was a bygone thing, but plenty of the places here were old.

It wasn’t the age that set it apart.

It was the aura of despair.

Just looking at the house made her blood sing. Actually, it was almost a scream—terror that was just barely kept in check and part of her wanted to
run
. But that was a good thing. She knew it was. It meant there was something
here
.

It had taken all of her savings, some begging, some borrowing, and some pleading to get the team to come here. But in the end, the excitement of it had won out.

A haunted house. On the island of Crete.

One where a lot of freaky shit had happened.

There were whispers…it was cursed, it was haunted…

Nat had grown up hearing the stories about this place.

About the seven bloody sisters who had driven one of her ancestors insane.

“So…we’re staying there.”

She glanced back and smiled at Max. “Yeah. For a few nights. I only got the permit for three nights.” Then she wiggled her eyebrows at him. “If anything happens, we might be able to get it extended, but we can’t go in for a few more days. I’m supposed to get the ball moving on that tomorrow. Relax, you’ll like the B&B we’re staying at. It’s supposed to be haunted too. But I think that’s just crap. We’ll have fun tearing that story apart.”

They’d done it before and more than a few people had tried to sue them, but it never worked. If you faked a ghost, you were just setting yourself up for it.

But some of it was real.

Was this one of them?

Her gut said
YES
…practically screamed it.

“Hey, Nat, are we going to
go
? Or just stand here for forever?” Jake said from behind, nudging her with his shoulder.

She scowled at him before moving forward to curl her hands around the wrought iron fence post, staring across the distance that separated her from the house. So close, damn it.

So close, after all this time. She could feel it
screaming
at her.

So much had happened here. In the past thirty years alone.

A couple had bought it and spent their life savings to refurbish it, turn it into an inn. The first night it opened, a young married couple had left, irate about an old woman had appeared at their door, whispering to them about the seven bloody sisters.

The next night, a second couple had fled screaming into the night. They had said there was blood in their room. On the windows and spilling all over the floor. Of course, the innkeepers had seen nothing.

The inn had closed within three months.

It had functioned as a home for unwed mothers for a time. But that hadn’t succeeded any better than the inn.

All the complaints were the same.

An old woman.

Blood.

And sometimes, people would whisper that there were screams. And sobbing…sobbing that sounded like it came from a young woman.

Some seriously spooky shit.

This wasn’t just orbs floating through the night.

It wasn’t just disembodied voices.

This was some
seriously
fucked-up shit.

And Nat wasn’t leaving until she had some of it captured on video. After she had that done, she’d see what she could do about the unrest she could feel burning in the air, but first…proof. Proof, vindication…

A voice buzzed in the back of her mind and she scowled, pressed the heel of her hand to her temple, turning away.

She needed some sleep. Turning back to the crew, she gave them a short nod. “Come on. Let’s head to the B&B. Maybe we can catch something
scary
happening there.”

Halfway down the narrow road, she glanced back. One last look at the place…just one. She’d been waiting for this her whole life, it seemed. She couldn’t believe the moment was finally here.
Centuries…

She scowled, wondering where that odd thought had come from.

Chapter Four

I’ve been trying to avoid this very moment my entire life.

Standing atop the small knoll, I looked down over the lovely village of Kalo Horio. Good village…good village, my ass. It was the place of my nightmares.

Just off in the distance, I thought I could make out the roof of the house where Despoina had lived. Why was it even still standing? I should have torn it down until it was nothing but rubble.

Salted the earth. It was cursed.

It was there in that very spot that the horror of my human life had unfolded. Where they had killed my child. Where I had killed them, seven women. I’d killed seven women, then ultimately myself.

Blood stained it. Death. And now…madness. Her madness. Despoina’s taint had carried on even into death.

Or perhaps it was mine.

I could still hear their screams.

And my own.

I could still feel the blade.

And I could hear Will’s voice—

This is not the way…

I’d never wanted to return here.

The wind whistled through the air, a terribly lonely sound.

Next to me, Luc stood patiently.

The wind kept blowing my hair into my eyes and I reached for a band to hold it back. As I braided it into a long tail, I glanced back over at Luc. He had a hand on Krell’s head and looked unconcerned, unperturbed. “Have you ever had to do something you really, really didn’t want to do?” I asked him conversationally.

“Yes.” Something shifted in those blue eyes. Something sad and somber.

And I knew. I could have kicked myself, but I didn’t dare let him sense what I was thinking or feeling…no signs of regret, or jealousy. Couldn’t let him feel any of that, now could we?

“Ah, yes,” I drawled, my voice light and mocking. “Your lovely princess. Letting her go had to be a bitch, even if she didn’t love you.”

A muscle jerked in his jaw, but other than that, he gave no reaction. “Perci is finally happy, finally at peace. To me, that matters a great deal.”

“That, Luc, is because you’re a bleeding saint.” Fighting the bitterness in my heart, I looked back at the town spread out before us, at the house where Despoina had died. All of it lay on tainted ground. It was black with the blood of evil, awful people…and blood I’d spilled with my own hands. “It’s a pity not all of us can be as good and true as you are.”

He made me so aware of my own failings…yet, I didn’t hold it against him, didn’t hate it. Why was that?

“I’m not a saint,” he said softly. “Letting her go was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But if I can’t give up my pride for the woman I once loved, what kind of man am I?”

Then he brushed past me and started down the hill, his steps surefooted and true. Even after all of this time, his grace amazed me.

Over his shoulder, he said, “If you want to wallow in your own self pity, have at it. I’m hungry.”

Wallow
?

Then the rest of what he said hit home.

Give up my pride…

And what in the hell had he meant…the woman he’d
once
loved?

Did that mean he didn’t still love Perci?

I could ask him.

But then he might want to know why I wanted to know. And besides, he was already almost down the hill.

Really, it was probably better if I didn’t ask.

After all, no matter what the answer was, it wasn’t going to change things…was it?

I caught up with him in a little outdoor restaurant. He was already chatting up the server. Very fluently. I frowned as I settled in the seat across from him. Of course he spoke the language well. He’d only been one of us for a few centuries now—why
wouldn’t
he speak Greek?

It wasn’t like I hadn’t heard him speaking several languages besides his native French. He spoke English most often, but I’d heard him speak Spanish, Italian, Russian and Mandarin. And Latin, but we all spoke Latin—the books were written in Latin and it was something we had to learn. The books were demonic weapons and if you were about to have a demonic weapon turned against you, it was a good idea to understand said demonic weapon.

I wasn’t surprised to hear him speaking Greek, exactly. It wasn’t even all that familiar to me, really. I understood him, yes. But the language of this country had changed in over the millennia. As I had.

“You’re unhappy.”

Scowling, I looked up and realized the server had left and Luc had his handsome face turned in my direction, his mouth unsmiling.

Unhappy…

Sighing, I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Luc, I can honestly tell you I don’t remember the last time I was happy.” Glancing around the unfamiliar town with its quaint, bright buildings and its smiling people. “It certainly wasn’t here.”

In an attempt to shrug off my melancholy, I looked around. “You need to blend a bit more, though, you know. Sexy as all get-out, big, beautiful guide dog. Stumble with the language a bit, would you? Or something. We don’t want them remembering anything more about us than necessary. You aren’t from here. You don’t
sound
like you’re from here. You’d blend better if you sounded like a tourist. They’re used to tourists.”

A black brow arched and a smile curved that lovely mouth of his. “So if I pretend to be a bumbling, awkward tourist, I’m less likely to stand out. Should I act like a rude American? Am I to be French?”

“You
are
French,” I reminded him.

He laughed. “But which will make me less…memorable?”

I sighed and looked away.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing he did would make him less likely to stand out, really. But we didn’t want to make it worse, either, did we? “Do you have to be so complicated?”

“Is that what I’m being?” He had a thoughtful look on his face. After a moment, he shrugged. “I can butcher the language a bit if you think it will make me more forgettable, Sina.” He reached down and rested a hand on Krell’s head. “There’s not much else I can do, though. Krell isn’t going anywhere. And I’ll have to continue…how did you phrase it? Oh, yes. I’m stuck being sexy as all get out.”

I sneered at him. And judging by the look on his face, he’d seen it too.