Protected by Stone (A Paranormal Romance Novel) by Cynthia Brint

smelled like dust and dying flowers. That's the real question, isn't it? Why did I agree to do this? Was it just for the money?
    A thought hit me, making me reach for my backpack. It didn't take much time to find what I was looking for.
    In my hands, Tessa's letter felt fragile.
    With the flickering orange lantern helping me, I unfolded it and read the words.
    It's because of this. A scribbled note from someone I never met. My mind filled with the image of the painting downstairs. Someone who looked so much like me.
    Someone everyone here expects me to be.
    And someone my mother wanted me to avoid.
    It was a big jumble, I had no answers to any of it. Was it possible for me to become like my grandmother?
    Did I even want to?
    With my arm across my eyes, blackness seeping into my vision, my ability to think weakened. So much had happened, and in such a short time.
    But I knew one thing for certain
    If I want to get more answers, I'm going to need to get them from Grault. Thinking of his hard frown, his serious dark eyes, made my lungs struggle. Especially when I recalled how he'd looked, sitting so peacefully in that overgrown garden.
    He'd promised me answers. I thought so much about getting information about Tessa, this house, the weird creepy guests...
    But not about him.
    I'd been conversing with him so casually, but knew almost nothing about the man. What was his relation to Tessa, what was his job here?
    Another mystery in the pile. Something else to focus on.
    But for now...
    For now I needed to sleep.

Chapter Eight.
    ––––––––
    M y dream was strange.
    First, I knew it was a dream. That wasn't common for me. Normally, I didn't recall my dreams at all. When they occurred, I never felt very aware.
    Now, thrashing in water, blinded by blurry vision, I was very aware. I had the distant realization that I was drowning, coldness turning my limbs numb and useless.
    My world was green and black, falling further as I sank. Weird. I don't know when I went swimming last.
    From above, I heard a noise. I didn't know it, didn't recognize the source. But somehow... somehow it filled me with relief.
    Then something bit down on my arm.
    I sat up in my bed, gasping in surprise. Wide-eyed, I stared down at my arm in dismay. I expected to see gashes, some deep wound, anything.
    It was only my smooth skin, lit by greenish sunlight from the window.
    The blankets beneath me felt dry, reminding me that the dream hadn't been scary until the last second. Not waking up in a panicked sweat was a tiny upside to having a nightmare.
    Groggy, I looked around the room, remembering where I was. Across the way, I caught a glimpse of myself in the dresser mirror. My hair was a giant knot, sticking up all around.
    Smoothing it with my fingers, I slid out of the bed. There were no clocks to tell me the time. The weird glass in the window didn't make it easy to judge, either.
    Stretching until I felt dizzy, I looked around until I found the copper tub in the corner. It was surrounded by a curtain, nothing more. Huh, how... historical? The novelty wore out when I realized the only water coming out was ice cold. Alright, revoking that. It's ancient, just ridiculously ancient.
    Dejected by the start of my morning, I slipped on some jeans and a blue sweater. It took a bit, but I managed to tug my hair into a messy bun. I wanted hot water, hot breakfast, and knew I'd need to leave my room to get it.
    Wiggling my toes in some thick wool socks, nothing more, I cracked my door open. Carefully, I peeked through the slit, eyeing the one side of the hallway I could see.
    It was brighter than last night, which seemed obvious when I considered it. Sunlight filtered in where it could, desperately trying to illuminate the rows of doors.
    I wasn't sure if I was hoping to avoid the guests, or to spot them.
    Hmn. Well, I guess I should go downstairs. If anything, I can figure out what's for breakfast.
    Stepping forward, I stubbed my toe against something hard.