There Should Have Been Eight Read Online Nalini Singh

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 120230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
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“Darcie.” Aaron’s voice was firm as he went and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet. “You know the house the best. We need you to tell us where to search. Is it possible he tried to use a secret passage and got trapped?”

Darcie shoved a hand through her hair, tugging out even more strands from her frizzy and already unraveling braid. “He only knows two of them. I showed him one before, and then there’s the one where he and Luna found me. We didn’t spend enough time here for him to bother learning the rest.”

Shaking off Aaron’s hand, she ran out the door, with the two of us in her wake.

My heart was thunder, my breath hard and cold, but I managed to keep up as Darcie led us first to the passageway behind the tapestry.

We went all the way to the pantry, the pace fast enough that I didn’t have time to think about my terror of the dark. But when we tumbled out into the pantry to a crash of glass—that misaligned spice bottle—it was without Ash.

Instead of going out to the living area, Darcie took us back through the passage, then off in a zigzag run through the house that ended at the top of a flight of stairs. Where, face red and her own breathing unsteady, she pulled aside another tapestry to reveal a door.

“This one. Ash knew this one.” She pressed a hand to her side for a moment before digging in her jacket pocket. “I put the keys in here after . . .” The bundle emerged in a jangle of metal, and she got the door unlocked on the first try.

But I grabbed on to the back of her jacket when she would’ve rushed in. “Calm down, Darcie.” It was hard to sound firm when I was panting like I’d run a marathon, but I didn’t release my grip on the soft puffiness of her jacket even when she tried to wrench away.

“I can see stairs.” I shook her. “You go rushing in helter-skelter and we’re going to end up with another body to lay beside Nix’s.”

She flinched as if she’d been slapped, but then gave a jagged nod and said, “Flashlights. We should take flashlights. The lights in there haven’t been changed for years. It’ll be a miracle if they’re still working.”

“We have them,” I reassured her.

Aaron stepped ahead of Darcie at the same time. “Let me go first. You’re in no state to lead us.” Careful, gentle.

Darcie didn’t argue.

Aaron switched on his flashlight. The resulting beam was strong enough to light his way . . . and tell us that no one had walked here before us.

The dust on the floor was a coating of gray fur.

Undisturbed. Uniform.

We should’ve shut the door, walked away—but Aaron stepped in, followed by Darcie, then me. A ritual to lay Darcie’s doubts to rest, make sure she wouldn’t be haunted by nightmares that murmured “what if” in her ear. Simply because something was illogical didn’t mean it couldn’t feel very real to her.

Darcie and I both sneezed while in the passage and after we emerged into another unfamiliar section of the estate house, while Aaron coughed. Cobwebs covered his curls and clothing. I dusted off my jacket sleeves, while Darcie wiped dust-coated hands on the front of her jacket. She ignored the resulting streaks.

The wood in this part of the house was the darkest I’d seen, the single light that had come on when Darcie touched a switch just before we exited the passage buzzing at a frequency that irritated my brain—as it emitted a weak circle of light that did nothing to penetrate the thick curls of shadow.

My eyes were teary from my sneezing, my nose stuffy, but I didn’t protest as Darcie began to run again. “Stick to her,” I told Aaron. He was faster than Darcie, while I was just slow enough that she might duck into another nook or passage while I was still out of sight.

And then she’d be alone.

As Nix had been alone when he fell.

As Darcie had been alone when she got that knock on the head.

As Ash had been alone when he vanished into thin air.

Her breathing—loud, close to sobs—echoing against the walls, Darcie led us through various doors and hallways that Ash might’ve taken had he become disoriented. “He’s not as familiar with the house as I am,” she said at one point when she finally had to stop.

Hands digging into her sides and her jacket unzipped at the neck, she sucked in air. “We stayed in that front section the times we came down here”—gasped words—“and he’s always been more interested in the bridge.” A wince, her fingers digging into her left side. “Did a ton of the work to bring it up to current safety standards.”


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