(Author’s note: As the scene begins, the characters are about to go through a previously concealed door at the back of the pitch-black room in which they’re standing. The only light comes from two flashlights.)
Unlike Aaron, I wasn’t so sure that I could trust all of my friends. Poor Grace. She didn’t even know most of us that well, and she was now stuck with us in a house straight out of a gothic novel.
Wanting to hurry this up for her and for myself, I flashed the beam of my light at the spot I thought I’d seen a door. Air rushed out of me. “There it is.”
“Did you see these bookshelves?” Grace said from my right at the same time. She pulled out a slim volume as Aaron went to check the door handle.
“It’s in Latin,” she muttered, sliding it back while I was still digesting the fact that she could make out anything in this light. “I think I recognized the word ‘demon’ from school.”
I wanted to ask what kind of school taught Latin in this day and age, then remembered that she’d been educated at boarding schools in Europe. Answer had to be rich people schools.
I wondered idly if that meant Grace was rich. Be nice for Aaron if she was; if anyone deserved a break in life, it was him. He’d worked all through high school and university, and was currently doing a ton to support his younger siblings through higher education.
“It’s open.” Aaron pushed the door into empty space on the other side.
The smooth transition made me frown. “The door to this room was locked.” I glanced back at the splintered edges that were a silent testament to what it had taken to get in. Ash was going to be paying the price for that in a few hours.
“Darcie must’ve locked it after she came inside.” Grace slid back another book. “Did you check her pockets for a key?”
I shook my head.
Though Grace’s words made sense, I couldn’t understand why Darcie would’ve locked up when she was the only one who knew about the secret passage in the first place.
“This one is in English,” Grace muttered, shifting to catch more of the glow from my flashlight.
The pages blazed a painful white to my eyes.
“It’s a book of spells. Dark stuff. Cursing-your-neighbor kind of thing.” Shuddering, she shoved it back onto the shelf. “Luna, do you mind if I go after Aaron into the passage?”
The weight of the dark at my back was suffocating. “No problem.” I fell in behind her.
“Gah!” Aaron made a jerking motion, paused. “Uh, sorry. Cobwebs.” He sounded so sheepish that it broke the tension, had us giggling. “At exactly the height of my face.”
“It doesn’t count unless a spider sets up home in your hair,” I said.
“I hate you,” he muttered without force, while Grace patted his back and said, “It’s okay, sweetie. Spiders prefer other nesting places.”
Not listening to Aaron’s rumbled response, I ran the beam of my flashlight on either side of me. “Narrow.” Not enough to be uncomfortable, but meant for single file.
“Yeah.” Aaron coughed into the crook of his elbow. “I’ll stay up front—unless you want to swap? You did find this place.”
“No, go on.” A few steps in, I couldn’t help glancing back at the door through which we’d entered, my neck prickling.
“What if it isn’t just us in this house?” Grace whispered. “I mean, if there’s one secret room, there could be others, right?”
My entire face went cold, her words giving shape to the primal fear in my gut.
I snapped my attention back to the other two.
“We’d have noticed,” Aaron argued. “We’ve been all over the house. I’d have noticed if a ton of food went missing. Ash and Darcie might’ve stocked it, but they asked me to make the shopping list.”
I hadn’t known the latter, though it made sense. “Place is huge,” I said, wondering why the hell I was adding fuel to the fire when it was the stuff of nightmares. “And one person wouldn’t need a lot of food.”
“How would they even have got here?” Aaron said, his voice a whisper, too.
As if the walls were listening in.
Stomach lurching, I remembered the rustling I’d put down to rats—then later to Darcie. But what if it hadn’t been either of those two? What if the walls were listening?
“Could be a squatter,” Grace said. “Like that case in America where that person lived in someone’s attic for years and only came out at night.”
“That’s an urban legend,” I said, though I wasn’t so sure.
“I’m saying the estate sits empty most of the time, right? Perfect place to stay if you don’t care that you’re in the middle of nowhere. Plus, there’s a pantry stocked with nonperishables.”
“But they’d have to go out sometime,” Aaron said, his tone firm. “I’m not buying that the squatter’s happy to sit in isolation forever. They couldn’t eat out the pantry, for one. The caretaker would notice.”
I didn’t want to say what I did next. “Easy enough to hide a vehicle in the bush at the foot of the mountains. Jim’s got no reason to go out there. He’s only responsible for the house and making sure any fallen fruit is cleaned up.”
“That’s it,” Aaron muttered, “I’m separating you and Gracie the minute we’re out of here. You’re dangerous together.”
“Sorry, sweetie.” Grace patted his shoulder again. “It’s this house. It’s getting to us.”
I allowed the topic to drift away, but I wondered if part of the reason Grace and I had clung to it was that it’d be less of a horror to have it be a stranger behind the odd occurrences. Because if there was no squatter . . . then it had to be one of us.
From THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN EIGHT by Nalini Singh, published by Berkley, an imprint of The Penguin Group, a division of Penguin Random House, LLC. Copyright © 2023 by Nalini Singh
THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN EIGHT by Nalini Singh
In this chilling thriller from New York Times bestselling author Nalini Singh, a remote estate in New Zealand’s Southern Alps hosts a reunion no one will ever forget.
Seven friends.
One last weekend.
A mansion half in ruins.
No room for lies.
Someone is going to confess.
Because there should have been eight. . . .
They met when they were teenagers. Now they’re adults, and time has been kind to some and unkind to others—none more so than to Bea, the one they lost nine long years ago.
They’ve gathered to reminisce at Bea’s family’s estate, a once-glorious mansion straight out of a gothic novel. Best friends, old flames, secret enemies, and new lovers are all under one roof. But when the weather turns and they’re snowed in at the edge of eternity, there’s nowhere left to hide from their shared history.
As the walls close in, the pretense of normality gives way to long-buried grief, bitterness, and rage. Underneath it all, there’s the nagging feeling that Bea’s shocking death wasn’t what it was claimed to be. And before the weekend is through, the truth will be unleashed—no matter the cost. . . .
Thriller Crime | Romance Suspense [Berkley, On Sale: November 21, 2023, Hardcover / e-Book, ISBN: 9780593549766 / eISBN: 9780593549773]
Modern day Gothic with a limited punch
The truth comes out in this dangerous setting!
Buy THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN EIGHT: Amazon.com | Kindle | BN.com | Apple Books | Kobo | Google Play | Powell’s Books | Books-A-Million | Indie BookShops | Ripped Bodice | Love’s Sweet Arrow | Walmart.com | Target.com | Amazon CA | Amazon UK | Amazon DE | Amazon FR
About Nalini Singh
Born in Fiji and raised in New Zealand, Nalini has been writing as long as she can remember. Her stories always held a thread of romance (even when she was writing about a prince who could shoot lasers out of his eyes). She loves creating unique characters, loves giving them happy endings and she even loves the voices in her head. There’s no other job she would rather be doing.
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