She gasped, startled, when the cat jumped up on the table. “Here, now,” Elena said, making a shooing motion with her hand. “Get down.”

The cat made no move to leave. Instead, it began washing its face.

“Impudent beast,” she muttered. “Why aren’t you out catching mice and rats or something?”

The cat didn’t answer, of course, but stared at her through unblinking yellow eyes. And then, with a flick of its tail, it jumped lightly to the floor and left the room.

Elena was still sitting at the table, goblet in hand, trying to marshal her thoughts, when she heard a noise behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, thinking perhaps Drake had entered the room. Seeing no one in the doorway, she glanced down, and let out a shriek. A dead rat lay on the floor. Behind it, the cat sat watching her.

Startled, Elena dropped the goblet. It hit the floor with a loud crash.

Tail twitching, the cat stared up at her, a feline grin on its face.

“Get out of here!” Elena exclaimed. “And take that disgusting thing with you.”

The cat looked at her for a moment, then snatched the rat up by its tail and padded out of the hall.

With a huff of annoyance, Elena picked the goblet up off the floor and set it on the table. There was something definitely strange about that cat.

She sat there a moment; then, driven by boredom and a growing sense of curiosity, she decided to explore the rest of the castle.

The kitchen was one flight down. Glancing around, she noted floor-to-ceiling cupboards along the back wall. A fireplace with a spit and an old-fashioned oven took up most of another wall. A large square table hewn of oak stood in the middle of the room. An open door led to a storeroom that held a number of bins and baskets, all of which were empty.

Leaving the kitchen, she climbed the stairs to the second floor. Walking down the corridor, she saw that there were other, smaller bedrooms besides the chamber she had slept in. For the lord of the keep’s children, she supposed. There was no furniture in any of these rooms, no rugs on the floors, no pictures or tapestries on the walls. A window in the last room on the left provided an excellent view of the forest that stretched away behind the castle. A thin ribbon of blue was visible between a copse of trees. A river, perhaps ? Or a lake.

Moving down the hall to the room she had slept in, Elena peered out one of the tall, leaded windows. From here, she could see the whole town spread far below. And there, on the narrow path leading up to the castle, she saw two men in uniform, men who worked for her uncle. A sudden shiver ran down her spine and she knew, knew without doubt, that they were coming here to look for her.

She needed a place to hide, but where?

Frantic, she gazed around the room. Useless to hide in the armoire or in the big trunk at the foot of the bed. Searchers were sure to look inside. The other bedrooms were empty. Nowhere to hide there.

She was fighting back tears of panic when Drake stepped into the room. “What is it that distresses you?” He glanced around, wondering if a spider or some other unwelcome creature had frightened her. But he saw no cause for alarm.

“My uncle!” She waved a hand toward the window. “He’s sending his men up here to look for me. I just know it.”

Drake crossed to the window. He stood there a moment, looking down, then turned to face her. “Come with me.”

Heart pounding, Elena followed him down the stairs to the main floor. Was he going to turn her over to her uncle?

“I don’t want to go back home,” she said, hurrying to catch up with him. “Please, don’t send me. . . .”

He drew back a corner of the tapestry that covered a portion of the west wall. “In here,” he said.

Elena stared at the whitewashed wall. In where?

His hand moved over the rough stone. With a low rumble, a narrow opening appeared as if by magic.

Elena shook her head as she peered into the dark abyss. Surely he didn’t expect her to go in there. Did he?

“Your uncle’s men are here,” Drake said.

The words had scarcely left his mouth when she heard the clang of a bell announcing someone was at the door.

Before she could protest, Drake gave her a push. Unable to recover her balance, Elena stumbled inside. She choked back a cry when the opening closed behind her, leaving her in total darkness. She told herself there was nothing to be afraid of. It would only be for a moment. Drake would send her uncle’s men away and then he would come for her.

But the moments became minutes. How long was he going to leave her in there? What if he wasn’t going to let her out again?

She told herself she was worrying needlessly. He was hiding her to protect her from her uncle.

She sat down on the floor, her knees drawn to her chest. “Nothing to fear,” she murmured, hoping to reassure herself. “Nothing to fear.”

Panic quickly overcame her determination to stay calm. It was suddenly hard to breathe. Was the room getting smaller? Darker? She had to get out of here. She scrambled to her feet. Where was the door? She had to find the door. In the pitch blackness, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.

She had to find a way out. With her arms outstretched, she moved forward until she found a wall, then inched along it, searching for the entrance.

A grunt of pain rose in her throat when she bumped into something. She ran her hands over the object. It was long and made of wood. A box of some kind. Was she in a storeroom? Her questing fingers continued their exploration and she found a seam in the wood. Lifting the lid, she paused a moment, then reached inside the box. An oblong box lined with satin.

A chill ran down her spine with the realization that it was an empty coffin.

Was it for her? Were there other coffins in there? Final resting places for naïve women who had wandered into Wolfram Castle, never to be seen or heard from again?

A sob rose in her throat as the door opened and Drake stepped into the room.

At first, Drake thought it was being in the dark for so long that had frightened Elena, and then he realized she was standing beside the open casket, a look of stark horror frozen on her face.

Rushing forward, he swept her into his arms, then carried her out of the room, pausing just long enough to activate the mechanism that closed the door. He elbowed past the tapestry, then carried her to the sofa in front of the hearth. When he was sure she was comfortable, he lit the fire.

“Elena. Elena!” He stroked her hair, hoping to calm her. “You are safe now.”

She stared up at him, wide-eyed and fearful. “Is it . . . is it . . . for me?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then . . . why?”

He ran a hand through his hair, wondering how to explain.

When he didn’t immediately reply, her brow furrowed. “You’re not sick, are you?”

He laughed softly as he sat down beside her. “No, I am not sick.”

“Then why . . . ?”

“It has been in there for centuries. Are you not curious about what those men wanted?”

“I know what they wanted.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “Me.”

Drake nodded.

“You’re not going to take me back to him, are you?” she asked anxiously.

“No.”

She knew a quick surge of relief, but it only lasted a moment. What was she going to do? She couldn’t stay here indefinitely. To do so would mean going outside only after dark, when no one could see her, never walking along the river, never attending church again, or visiting with her friends. If she stayed, she would be no more than a prisoner in this castle. But at least she would be safe from her uncle.

And for now, that was reason enough to stay.

Chapter 4

“Well?” Tavian Dinescu glared at the two men standing on the other side of the desk. “Speak up!”

“She wasn’t there,” Vasili said, scuffling his feet.

“But it wasn’t empty,” Ivan added.

“What do you mean?” Dinescu demanded.

“There was a man,” Ivan said. “Big fella. Scar down one side of his neck. Looked dangerous, if you ask me.”

Dinescu frowned. He’d been unaware that anyone was currently living in the castle. “Who was it?”

“He didn’t give his name,” Vasili replied. “And I didn’t ask.”

Dinescu looked at Ivan. “What about you?”

Ivan shook his head. “Never seen him before. Hope I never see him again. There was something about him . . . something kind of spooky.”

Dinescu looked at him disdainfully. “Spooky?”

Ivan shrugged.

Dinescu made a dismissive gesture with his hand. Had one of the heirs come to claim the place? It had been years since anyone had occupied the castle on the hill. How long had the fellow been there? No one had reported seeing anyone new in town. Perhaps he would look into it. As chief of police, he had every right to make sure that the person occupying Wolfram Castle had a right to be there. But he would look into that later. Right now, his main concern was finding his niece.

He glanced at Ivan and Vasili. “That’ll be all.”

Frowning, Dinescu watched the two men shuffle out of his office. Where the hell was Elena? His men had searched the entire town. He, himself, had questioned every man, woman, and child, but to no avail. No one had seen her.

He slammed his hand on the edge of the desk, an oath rising to his lips. Dammit. She couldn’t have just vanished into thin air.

So, she had run away, in which case someone must have helped her, but who? Everyone else in the village was accounted for. Try as he might, he couldn’t believe she had found the courage to run off on her own, yet there was no other answer. Where would she go? As far as he could tell, she hadn’t taken anything with her, so she couldn’t have gone far. He would find her, and when he did, he would make her pay.

Scowling, he paced back and forth, his anger growing. He had lusted after the girl since she was thirteen years old, patiently biding his time while he waited for her to grow up. He had discouraged the young men who had wanted to take her out. He frowned. Had she been meeting one of them behind his back? Someone from another town, perhaps? No, that was impossible.