The Mephisto Club

accidents had they left on the floor? She didn’t want to step in anything worse.
    She felt for the wall switch, flipped it on, and scanned the floor. She saw more puddles, but realized that these had not been left by dogs; they were melted snow, in the form of shoe prints. Someone had been walking outside and had tracked snow into the house. Her gaze lifted to the mirror, where she stared into her own pinched and sleepy eyes. And she saw something else, something that lifted every hair on the back of her neck, a reflection of what had been drawn in red on the wall behind her.
    Three upside-down crosses.
    Gasping, she stumbled backward and fled from the bathroom. Panic sent her tearing down the hall, bare feet skidding across the wet floor as she sprinted toward the nearest door. It was Maura’s bedroom.
    “Wake up!” she whispered. “You have to wake up!” She shook the sleeping woman so hard that the headboard rattled, the springs protested. Maura merely sighed, but did not stir.
    What’s wrong with you? Why can’t I wake you?
    Something creaked in the hallway. Lily’s head snapped around toward the door. She felt her heart thudding hard enough to crack ribs as she crossed back to the doorway. There she stood listening, trying to hear through the banging of her own heart.
    Nothing.
    She eased her head around the doorjamb and peered into the hall. It was empty.
    Wake the others. They have to know he’s in the house!
    She slipped into the hall and scurried barefoot toward the room she thought must be Jane’s. She reached for the knob and gave a soft sob of frustration when she found it was locked.
Should I pound on the door to wake her? Do I dare make any noise?
Then she heard the whine of a dog, the faint tapping of claws moving across the great room downstairs. She eased toward the stairway. Gazing over the banister, she almost laughed in relief.
    Downstairs, a fire was burning in the hearth. Seated on the couch, facing the flames, was Edwina Felway.
    As Lily scurried down the steps, the two Dobermans glanced up, and one of them gave a warning growl. Lily froze at the bottom of the stairs.
    “There, there, Balan,” said Edwina. “What’s got you upset now?”
    “Edwina!” Lily whispered.
    Edwina turned to look at her. “Oh. You’re awake. I was just about to add some more logs.”
    Lily glanced at the fire, which was already roaring, the flames leaping, consuming a precariously tall pile of wood. “Listen to me,” whispered Lily, moving a step forward, halting again as one of the dogs rose to its feet, fangs bared. “He’s inside the house! We have to wake everyone!”
    Edwina calmly picked up two logs and tossed them onto the already raging fire, stoking the inferno. “I noticed that you hardly touched your wine tonight, Lily.”
    “Dominic’s
here
!”
    “You could have slept through the whole thing, along with everyone else. But this works out so much better. Having you awake.”
    “What?”
    The dog gave another growl, and Lily stared down at teeth gleaming orange in the flame’s glow.
The dogs,
she thought suddenly. They hadn’t barked, not once tonight. An intruder had slipped into the house. He’d tracked wet shoe prints across the floor. And the dogs gave no warning.
    Because they know him.
    As Edwina turned to face her, Lily darted forward and snatched the poker from the hearth. “You led him here,” she said as she backed away, poker brandished in defense. “You told him.”
    “Oh, I didn’t have to. He was already here on the mountain, waiting for us.”
    “Where is he?”
    “Dominic will come out in his own good time.”
    “Goddamn you,” Lily cried as her grip tightened around the poker.
“Where is he hiding?”
    She saw the attack too late. She heard the growl, the clatter of claws across wood, and she glanced sideways as twin streaks of black flew at her. The impact sent her crashing to the floor and the poker fell from her hands with a loud thud. Jaws closed around her arm. She screamed as teeth ripped into flesh.
    “Balan! Bakou! Release.”
    It was not Edwina’s voice that issued the command, but another: the voice of Lily’s nightmares. The dogs released her and backed away, leaving her stunned and bleeding. She tried to push herself up, but her left hand was floppy and useless, the tendons torn by powerful jaws. With a groan, she rolled onto her side and saw her own blood pooling on the floor. And beyond that pool of blood, she saw the shoes of a man