Free Reaper: A raven paranormal romance (Crookshollow ravens Book 2) by Steffanie Holmes Page A

are helping me to make the world a better place.”
    “You’re experimenting on them?” I asked, horrified.
    “Of course. That’s how we learn. Don’t look so shocked. I am not doing anything that every makeup company and pharmaceutical lab isn’t also doing.”
    I didn’t know how to reply. Victor reached into the cage and pulled out one of the doves. It sat quietly in his thin fingers, and let out a soft cooo as Morchard injected it with something, then placed it in a smaller glass cage on the bench.
    A horrified shudder rippled through my body. I didn’t want to see what would happen to those birds. What must it have been like for Cole to be the servant of this man, to watch him experiment on birds while he could do nothing to stop it?
    “Why did you ask me here?” I turned towards the wall, pretending to examine the various machines. In reality, I was trying to glimpse the garden again, searching for a way Ethan and his two friends might have got in or out last night.
    “I thought you might find your rooms a bit stifling. Barry tells me you’re not sleeping well.”
    Barry? I guess he meant the butler. He’d probably heard me rattling around in my room last night. “I’m being held prisoner against my will. That’s not exactly conducive to a good night’s rest.”
    “That cannot be helped, unfortunately. But, if you’re lucky, you won’t be here for much longer.”
    “Let me guess – You’re planning to kill me and feed me to those ravens out there?” It was an attempt at humour, but as the fear was real, I tripped over the words.
    Morchard sniggered. “Oh no. I gave my demands to your boy. As soon as he completes them, I will let you go.”
    “You spoke to Cole?” When? Does that mean Cole came here?
    “I simply relayed my message. He is to kill Sir Thomas Gillespie.”
    What? Is he serious? “But Gillespie is a centuries-old vampire who can read minds! How is Cole even going to get close to him?”
    “How he completes the task is not my concern.” Morchard was cutting some of the feathers from the second dove’s wing. He didn’t look up from his work.
    “Can I ask you something?” I peered out into the garden again, but everything was still and silent. “Did you know there were people walking around the garden late last night? They were acting peculiar.”
    After a pause, Morchard said. “Oh, yes. The National Trust wanted to conduct a ghost tour. It is a new initiative they’re trying, getting in paranormal investigators to call up the ghosts of my ancestors, to entice the tourists to come back for another visit. I apologise for not telling you. I didn’t think it important, and they weren’t supposed to disturb you.”
    All three birds were now in the glass box. Morchard placed a lid containing several air holes on top, peeled off his gloves, then washed his hands in the sink.
    “It’s fine.” I glanced back to the door. “Can I go now? I’d like to walk in the garden.”
    “Not just yet.” He grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. “I’d like you to come with me. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
    Victor gave me a thin smile and extended his hand to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch it. I shook my head. He continued to smile as he gestured for me to exit the room. He followed me, and pulled the leg of one of the carved horses to slide the door shut behind him. I followed Victor across the empty ballroom, my shoes clicking loudly against the marble floor. I walked behind Victor as he wound his way through the long hallways of the main wing. On each side of us, high doors stood open, leading into spacious, opulent rooms where wax figurines conducted their affairs. Some were roped off with velvet tape, and large placards with the National Trust logo explained the historical importance of the furniture and tapestries. I tried to take note of the locations of large windows and French doors, in case I ever had the opportunity to escape.
    Victor led me