The first man entered the courtyard through the ruined outer archway without attempting to conceal himself, while a second appeared near the northern wall and three more emerged from different directions until five figures had spread themselves across the open ground between the chapel, the well, and the surrounding adobe buildings.

Clara had expected monsters after everything she had witnessed during the previous nights, yet the five figures spreading through the courtyard looked disturbingly human, which somehow made the knowledge of what they actually were considerably worse than if they had arrived with monstrous faces that announced the danger before they ever reached the walls.

Had she encountered any one of them beside a road during daylight, she might have offered water before wondering whether she should be afraid.

The manor knew the moment she crossed its threshold.
Cold brushed the back of Skye Holloway’s neck, soft as breath. The great door closed behind her with a final, echoing hush, and the warmth of the outside world fell away. Portraits lined the walls — red-haired women with green eyes, watching. Waiting.
She had never been here before.
Yet the marble beneath her boots felt familiar. The air smelled of old stone and memory. And somewhere deep inside the house, something stirred, as if the land itself had recognized her blood and awakened.
Skye had come home.
The manor had been waiting.

Lila Merren has been dreaming of the motel sign since she was seven years old. The curved neon arch. The pink and blue glow. THE MOONLIGHT MOTEL. She’s drawn it a thousand times without knowing it was real—until her roommate’s … Continue reading →