Page 135 of Hateful Prince
“No,” I whispered, rushing to his side and crouching to the floor. Sure enough, there was a drop of crimson liquid on the hardwood. I ran my finger through it and brought the blood to my nose, praying it didn’t smell like her.
My prayers weren’t answered.
Tor burst through the bathroom door and let out a bellow of rage at whatever it was he found inside.
Hades followed him, his voice hard when he announced, “A ghost was here. I’d bet everything it was the one that’s been fucking with her. If she hurt my goddess, she’d better prepare for eternity wrapped in a prison of my fire.”
“Would a ghost be able to kidnap her?” Caleb asked. “I’ve heard of many powerful spirits being able to manifest, but not for long enough to steal a person away.”
“It’s the Ripper. It has to be him.” Tor gripped the sink basin with both hands so tightly the porcelain cracked as he hung his head and breathed deeply. “The ghost being here is a coincidence.”
“There’s no such thing as coincidences,” Hades intoned.
“What’s all this?” Hook’s voice came from down the hall. He looked worse for wear, his hair sticking out every which way as though he’d been tugging on it, and his clothes rumpled. For one fleeting second, hope set my veins on fire, but when my mate’s form didn’t appear beside him, I knew it was a fool’s hope.
“Dahlia’s missing,” I answered.
His expression morphed so quickly I felt like I’d imagined his cocksure grin. “What?”
“You heard me. Unless you took her and are hiding her somewhere. But if you did, prepare yourself to be in a world of hurt because you spilled her blood.”
“No, mate. You’ve got it wrong. I never touched her. I’d own up to it if I were able to kidnap her right under your noses again. That’s not easy to do.” Hook’s eye twitched, and he glanced to the side, muttering to himself rapidly. “Whispers. Whispers. Tick. Tick. Tick.”
“Has he gone mad, then?” Caleb asked.
“Almost certainly,” Hades confirmed.
Tor’s roar was so loud my ears rang. “What are we waiting for? Find her!”
“How do you suggest we do that? A few drops of blood and virtually no trail.” Hades raked a hand through his hair. “There’s not even a trail of spirit residue to help track her.”
Caleb stood and walked seemingly aimlessly down the corridor. The way he went didn’t lead anywhere, save a window overlooking the grounds. But instead of inspecting the window, he turned and crouched beside the wall.
“There’s another drop of blood here.”
Before any of us could speak, Hook crowed. “The passageway. Of course!”
“What passageway?” I asked.
“This one.” Hook bounded to where Caleb was now standing. “Move aside, padre. Allow me.” Then he shoved the wall hard, a crack opening up at the pressure before a doorway opened to him.
“There’s more blood here.”
Hook moved past Caleb and into the secret corridor, all the while murmuring, “Tick. Tick. Tick. Tickety-tock. Don’t get eaten by the croc.”
We followed, rushing forward until all at once we crashed into each other because the pirate had come to a dead stop.
“What the fuck?” Hades shouted.
“Sabotage. Mutiny! Someone will walk the plank for this.”
If I couldn’t see it with my own eyes, I’d think Hook was hallucinating. But he was right. A pile of rubble blocked the path from floor to ceiling. Tor and I could clear it, but that would take time we likely didn’t have.
Reaching out, I grabbed Hook by the ruffles of his fancy shirt and tugged him until we were nose to nose. “Pull it together, pirate. She’s counting on us. Now, where does this passage lead?”
“A tomb.”
A shiver of foreboding danced down my spine.