27
Tendrils of cold tore at my skin. Elizabeth, Devon, and I froze, staring. The childish idea that if you don’t move they can’t see you seemed to have taken over all our instincts.
“Where are they?” Eric growled.
His perfect hair spiked out of place. His eyes gleamed wildly. He was a man filled with grief and rage and was more terrifying than I had ever seen him.
“Where are the books?” Eric spat, stepping in front of the three of us. “What have you done with them?”
“The intruders came to steal our books,” the oldest of the Ladies said. Even from a distance, her overly wrinkled skin seemed paper thin and crackly. “And now they can’t find them.”
“They’ll just have to die without seeing the precious books,” the second Lady said, a savage joy filling her voice as it bounced off the ceil
