hallway. I looked back at Ryan, who was lagging behind, looking all around.
“Come on.” I whispered loudly.
“This place is amazing. You sure this isn’t a hotel?” He had stopped to pick up a bronze sculpture. “And why are you whispering if they’re not home?”
His voice seemed to bounce off the walls, reminding me that we were up to no good.
“I don’t know if they have housekeepers! Do you really think Dr. Dean dusts? Now put that down!”
Ryan reluctantly set the statue back in its place. “Yeah, I’m sure Brynn gets on her hands and knees to scrub. I’d pay good money to see that.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I proceeded down the hallway to the door at the end of the hall, led by mere instinct that this was the way to the doctor’s private study. I pushed open the oversized walnut door to find a lush wood-paneled office on the other side. The sheer opulence of the study took my breath away. Leather chairs, Tiffany lamps, ballister bookcases . . . the room was larger than my living room and looked like the inspiration for an Ethan Allen catalog.
“Geez,” breathed Ryan. He did a complete 360, taking it all in. “If I could do my homework in here, I would definitely get all A’s.”
“Right, let’s just start looking, okay?”
“Hey, Teagan. If your mom marries the doc, you’ll be sitting pretty.”
“Please don’t go there. You know as well as I do this glam is not my style, and I would have to share it with you-know-who.”
My fingers felt for the thin pewter chain beneath the shade of the desk lamp. With a tug, the light glowed steadily, revealing an intricate reversed painting on the inside of the glass shade. Beautiful winged angels floated in a gray-blue sky, hovering over a dark lake full of hands reaching for the heavens. Why would a medical doctor have a lamp like this? I shivered and began searching the desk while Ryan headed for the bookcases. I felt so nervous, my forehead was beginning to feel damp. The sooner we found the journal, the better.
“Someone’s been here . . .” Ryan sniffed the air like a bloodhound.
I smelled it too, a soft lavender-vanilla scent was still faint within the room.
“Brynn?” Ryan asked.
“Maybe she stopped in here before coming to my house?”
That meant she was either still looking for the journal, or worse, she could have it on her right now. I headed for the filing cabinets behind the wet bar. Just walking past the crystal glasses made my head spin and I began to wonder if my mother was in over her head.
“No, I mean . . . something just doesn’t feel right,” he paused. “Don’t you feel it?”
“Let’s just look for the journal and get out. I think the whole we’re-not-supposed-to-be-here thing is creeping you out.”
But I could feel it too, something a little off, as if something other-worldly had tainted the very air we were breathing. I didn’t want to admit to Ryan that the whole house felt strange, nothing like the last time I had been here. I shrugged it off, knowing the reason might simply be that the last time I had been invited. That certainly wasn’t the case tonight.
I looked up at Ryan, meeting his unsure eyes.
“It’s just guilt, okay?” I tried to smile reassuringly.
I pushed the hair out of my eyes and glanced at my watch.
“I don’t see anything that looks like a journal,” I sputtered disappointedly. I looked up at Ryan. He was looking around uneasily, rubbing his palms up and down his arms. Then I noticed my breath filling the air before my eyes. Ryan was shivering and I could see his breath too, as if we were standing outside in the chill. The temperature had plummeted a good ten degrees in a matter of seconds and a gray pallor had tinged the lamp-glow in the office.
The cold I was now feeling was nothing like before. It was nothing like when a guardian was corrupted and taken from its human charge. This was deeper. I was internally cold, as if something were creeping its way inside my
“Come on.” I whispered loudly.
“This place is amazing. You sure this isn’t a hotel?” He had stopped to pick up a bronze sculpture. “And why are you whispering if they’re not home?”
His voice seemed to bounce off the walls, reminding me that we were up to no good.
“I don’t know if they have housekeepers! Do you really think Dr. Dean dusts? Now put that down!”
Ryan reluctantly set the statue back in its place. “Yeah, I’m sure Brynn gets on her hands and knees to scrub. I’d pay good money to see that.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I proceeded down the hallway to the door at the end of the hall, led by mere instinct that this was the way to the doctor’s private study. I pushed open the oversized walnut door to find a lush wood-paneled office on the other side. The sheer opulence of the study took my breath away. Leather chairs, Tiffany lamps, ballister bookcases . . . the room was larger than my living room and looked like the inspiration for an Ethan Allen catalog.
“Geez,” breathed Ryan. He did a complete 360, taking it all in. “If I could do my homework in here, I would definitely get all A’s.”
“Right, let’s just start looking, okay?”
“Hey, Teagan. If your mom marries the doc, you’ll be sitting pretty.”
“Please don’t go there. You know as well as I do this glam is not my style, and I would have to share it with you-know-who.”
My fingers felt for the thin pewter chain beneath the shade of the desk lamp. With a tug, the light glowed steadily, revealing an intricate reversed painting on the inside of the glass shade. Beautiful winged angels floated in a gray-blue sky, hovering over a dark lake full of hands reaching for the heavens. Why would a medical doctor have a lamp like this? I shivered and began searching the desk while Ryan headed for the bookcases. I felt so nervous, my forehead was beginning to feel damp. The sooner we found the journal, the better.
“Someone’s been here . . .” Ryan sniffed the air like a bloodhound.
I smelled it too, a soft lavender-vanilla scent was still faint within the room.
“Brynn?” Ryan asked.
“Maybe she stopped in here before coming to my house?”
That meant she was either still looking for the journal, or worse, she could have it on her right now. I headed for the filing cabinets behind the wet bar. Just walking past the crystal glasses made my head spin and I began to wonder if my mother was in over her head.
“No, I mean . . . something just doesn’t feel right,” he paused. “Don’t you feel it?”
“Let’s just look for the journal and get out. I think the whole we’re-not-supposed-to-be-here thing is creeping you out.”
But I could feel it too, something a little off, as if something other-worldly had tainted the very air we were breathing. I didn’t want to admit to Ryan that the whole house felt strange, nothing like the last time I had been here. I shrugged it off, knowing the reason might simply be that the last time I had been invited. That certainly wasn’t the case tonight.
I looked up at Ryan, meeting his unsure eyes.
“It’s just guilt, okay?” I tried to smile reassuringly.
I pushed the hair out of my eyes and glanced at my watch.
“I don’t see anything that looks like a journal,” I sputtered disappointedly. I looked up at Ryan. He was looking around uneasily, rubbing his palms up and down his arms. Then I noticed my breath filling the air before my eyes. Ryan was shivering and I could see his breath too, as if we were standing outside in the chill. The temperature had plummeted a good ten degrees in a matter of seconds and a gray pallor had tinged the lamp-glow in the office.
The cold I was now feeling was nothing like before. It was nothing like when a guardian was corrupted and taken from its human charge. This was deeper. I was internally cold, as if something were creeping its way inside my
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