Page 2 of Monsters' Manor

That, at least, gets him to shut up for a few seconds.

In the wake of my refusal, we face each other in a silent standoff. He crosses his thick arms over his chest and fixes his demonic gaze squarely on me.

To say I’m not interested in training my magick would be the understatement of the century.

It doesn’t matter that I’m a Bramwell witch from a long line of talented Bramwell witches. It doesn’t matter that my father’s family has run Edgar’s Acres for almost a hundred years. It doesn’t matter that I had to cast off any little slivers of pride when I showed up and asked Odelia for help, knowing she’d take me in for all those reasons.

I came to my aunt with nowhere else left to go. I needed a job, and whether that’s taking tickets or directing traffic in the parking lot or scrubbing toilets, I don’t really care. I’m just absolutely not about to tap into my magick. As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t exist.

If only Odelia hadn’t given me her damned ultimatum.

Before I can get any more lost in my brooding, the sound of voices snaps me back to attention. It also unfortunately means I lose the staring contest as I break Renwick’s gaze and take a step back to let the approaching humans pass.

The handful of guests headed toward the gates shoot curious glances our way. The group is mainly women, and most of them are looking at Renwick—either admiring the impressive cut of his muscles or trying to wrap their minds around how in the world his ‘costume’ looks so real.

Like they always do, though, those questioning looks disappear after a few moments. The guests go right back on their merry way, having completely forgotten they ever had a question in their minds in the first place.

The enchantments buzzing in the autumn air ensure no one ever looks too closely at the Edgar’s Acres staff.

The whole place is spelled with charms that make guests suspend their disbelief and keep them from looking too long or too hard. They allow all the monsters who staff the manor to exist as they are.

In the mundane world, those same monsters might have to put on glamours or keep to shifted forms to blend in, but at Edgar’s Acres that’s not the case. The bigger, scarier, more outlandish, the better.

Still, the enchantments don’t stop guests from getting an appropriate thrill while they’re here, and the demon at my side takes full advantage of that fact as the group passes. He gives the humans a roguish grin and a growl, drawing a couple of shrieks of laughter as they continue on toward the Acres.

“Nice,” I deadpan. “Very scary.”

The insult lands with all the impact of a dandelion seed on a breeze. Renwick’s grin never falters as he turns back to face me.

“Iamvery scary,” he says, all overblown confidence and bravado. “You should join me in the Parlor and find out.”

I fight back a shudder of revulsion. Just the idea of it, of what joining him in the manor’s ‘Lucifer’s Parlor’ scene would mean for me…

Fire magick.

That’s what Odelia wants me to work on honing. The magick I want nothing to do with. The magick that landed me in this whole damn mess in the first place.

Hard fucking pass.

Not feeling any need to respond to that remark, I start back toward the ticket booth with my demon escort right on my heels.

We pass a few more cast members on our way up the hill. A werewolf on the prowl, a couple of vampires hamming it up in pale-white face makeup and dramatic capes with fangs on full display. At the front gate, the two gargoyles standing sentry on either side come to life, leaping up and drawing more shrieks and laughter from the group of guests ahead of us.

The one on the right side—Howard, I think his name is—gives me a wink as Renwick and I pass through before settling onto his perch and morphing back into his stone-like state.

The mood inside the Acres darkens with the falling twilight. The late afternoon and early evening are more geared toward families, toned down for the sake of tender hearts.

But after dark? After dark all bets are off.

After dark, the manor’s monsters let their beastly sides come out to play, and every night they prove again why Edgar’s Acres has won its hard-earned reputation for being the most terrifying attraction in the upper Midwest.

Beyond the talented cast and crew, more of Odelia’s careful spellwork and the enchantments our family has laid down and tended for three generations spring up the deeper you venture into the Acres. Safe for mortals, the magick influences emotion and perception, lightly manipulating guests’ experiences to ensure no one leaves anything less than wonderfully frightened and awed.

It’s an impressive feat, even amongst magick folk. When my father—Odelia’s brother—was still alive, he used to tell me all about it with pride threaded through his voice.

Not that it matters now, and not that it means I want to be a part of it.

I’m only going to be here for as long as it takes me to figure out my next move. Or until Odelia gets sick of my attitude and tells me to hit the road. Whichever comes first.

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