Curse of Tempest Gate Read Online Free PDF

they all assumed
she was a witch. Samael grabbed at her again and she thought he had
her, but his hand slid through her as his corporeal being lost
substance.
    So, Samael couldn’t hold his form. Good to
know.
    She ran for the gate with Samael cursing her
escape. She would have made it to safety, but Hester Higgins stood
on the other side. Her hands on the iron bars, she shut the gate
and slipped a lock into the latch.
    “What are you doing?” Her panic was obvious
in the way her voice rose. Got to keep it together, Shaw. Think
this through. Don’t make rash decisions.
    “You have to stay,” Hester told her as she
clicked the padlock shut and slipped the key into her sweater
pocket.
    “No.” Clarity ran to the gate, her hands
gripping the iron bars. So much for playing it cool . “Let me
out.”
    Samael’s low chuckle had her whirling
around. She pressed her body against the iron bars. Samael was in a
solid state again, obviously recovering from his fade-to-nothing-episode .
    “Hester, you did well,” Samael praised
her.
    Clarity’s brows furrowed. She chanced a look
at the receptionist from the hotel, making sure to keep Samael in
her line of vision, also. “Why would you help him?”
    Her shoulders slumped, her worn face flushed
pink, and her eyes wouldn’t meet hers. “I had to.” Hester’s gaze
shifted to Samael’s with unease. “Do you remember the names I gave
you earlier? One of the names on the list is my niece’s. She hung
around with a rowdy crowd, but she was a good kid. The kids dared
her to sit on the devil’s chair. She’s never spoken again since her
night here. Samael promised to release his hold on her if I helped
him.” Hester looked at her now, her gaze pleading for Clarity to
understand, as if she expected her to forgive her.
    “And so I shall help your niece,” Samael
promised her with a solemn nod of his head.
    Clarity knew she was in deep trouble, but
then her eyes caught sight of Mr. Donner walking toward them. “Mr.
Donner.” She waved to him. “Hester won’t let me out of here. She
has the key. You have to help me.”
    Mr. Donner’s features clouded with regret.
“I warned you to leave before the fog rolled in.” Yes, he had. She
glanced at the whirling mist circled around her ankles. “I tried.”
Her fingers curled around the bars. She cringed when Samael spoke
again.
    “Mr. Donner is of Michael’s blood, but alas
he did not survive his visit here and he couldn’t save
Michael.”
    She looked at Samael, her brows furrowing in
confusion. “What do you mean he didn’t survive?”
    Samael waved his hand toward the ground
where he stood. The mist parted for him and he pointed to a mound
in the shape of a body. It couldn’t be what she thought.
    She swallowed the lump in her throat and
shook her head in denial. “Mr. Donner?” She turned to look at him,
hoping he would tell her what she wanted to hear. That he was alive
and this was some kind of sick joke.
    Samael’s low chuckle forced her to see the
truth, but Hester’s words confirmed it.
    “He was nosing around where he shouldn’t,”
Hester bit out, her eyes narrowing. “But it seems Mr. Donner helped
us out by convincing you to join us. After we spoke and you went
upstairs, it dawned on me who you looked like. There’s a portrait
of a young Sophie Peabody hanging in the historical museum in town.
You look a lot like the witch, minus the earring in the eyebrow of
course.”
    She only half listened to Hester’s long
drawn out deductions. She couldn’t get past the idea that Mr.
Donner was dead. He didn’t look like a ghost or, at least, what she
thought a ghost would look like. He looked as solid as she was, but
then Michael and Samael should be dead, but they were haunting the
graveyard, looking very much alive, too.
    “Where is Michael?” Mr. Donner directed the
question to Clarity. “I would have thought he’d keep you by his
side.”
    “Oh, yes, where is my good friend?” Samael
chuckled.