The Glass Man - Lila Gray Book 1

Chapter Fifteen

A sea of hooded Host rushed at me. I braced myself to fight, my back against the spongy wall. Suddenly, it gave way, and I fell backwards, into the house.

Did the house just eat me? I regained my footing on black tile.

When I put my hand against the red surface of the inner wall, it had solidified again, as smooth as the outer scales. Ridges ran the length of the space, the ribs in the belly of a beast. I turned in search of the flickering light source in the room. A black, wrought iron chandelier holding dozens of white candles hung in the center. Wax dripped and dried around the base, like melting skin.

An over-sized black leather sofa sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by two white wing chairs and a rocking chair by the fireplace. Wispy black curtains hung over the windows. "Great, I've been eaten by a goth house monster. What else have you got for me today, universe?"

"Lila!" Parthalan roared beyond the walls, startling me.

"I had to go and ask, didn't I?" While my mind spun escape scenarios, thundering wings and baying wolves sent vibrations through the house.

I darted around the room with my fingers tangled into my hair. "Okay, house—or whatever you are—I'm guessing you saved me on purpose, so what bright ideas have you got now that I'm trapped in here?"

A staircase grew out of the floor beside me and stretched up to the second floor. "Nifty, but I'm not sure how going upstairs is going to help the situation." I understood how Alice felt, but instead of Wonderland, I'd stepped into Hades on acid.

I scrambled up the steps.

At the top of the stairs, the windows along the blue walls closed like freakin' eyes, blotting out the purple sky beyond. "Okay, smart guy, if you have a master plan, now would be a good time to let me in on it." Great, I'd been reduced to talking to a house.

The racket outside grew louder.

Similar to the lower floor, sparse furnishings populated the large space: a bed with white satin coverings, a black area rug, and another white wing chair similar to the one from the living room. No pictures on the walls, or any indication that someone lived there.

An explosion rocked the building. Debris clattered downstairs. I jumped at the sound, stumbled on the suddenly uneven tile, and fell onto the bed. The house shuddered and groaned.

"How dare you defy your king?" Parthalan's shoes tapped out a devil's tune on the floor below. His voice, when he spoke, came out in a violent sing-song that lifted all the hairs on my arms. "Return her to me, or I will burn you to the ground."

Fighting through fear enough to think, I searched for an escape. "Open your window again, and I'll go out." The window to my left blinked open.

One of the Host hovered outside, the hood thrown back to reveal a jagged, black beak protruding from the elongated face. Large, red eyes bulged above it, and black feathers partially covered the ashen skin.

"Okay, bad idea. Close it up again."

Choose the devil or his minions? I didn't like either choice, but option C hadn't presented itself yet. To my frustration, my thoughts kept returning to Liam, that he'd somehow keep his promise to come back for me. I gave my head a shake. No time for fairy tales.

Step, step, step, came Parthalan's shoes clicking up the stairs.

"Can't you close them up, or something?" The vibrations beneath my feet changed. Not from explosions or from when it changed its shape. These hit my senses of pure fear. I went to the wall and stroked my hand over the smooth surface. The window to my right fluttered, and clear liquid trickled out of the corner. "Dammit, don't cry," I whispered. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry." Jesus, the house was weeping. It really was sentient, with a soul and everything.