Page 42 of Monsters' Manor

“Connect them.”

Again, the fire surges up to meet my will, bowing over me in a flaming arc.

“Good,” Renwick rumbles. “Very good.”

I shoot him a grin, then extinguish the flames completely. He steps forward and circles me with slow, predatory focus.

“You’re getting better,” he says—haughty, like he’s bestowing me an honor by deigning to give me his praise.

“Admit it,” I taunt. “I’m pretty badass.”

“Are you letting all that fire of yours go to your head, Rosie?”

“Maybe. And why shouldn’t I?” I’m still flush with the lingering remnants of my magick, riding an edge of daring giddiness as I glance over my shoulder at him. “What about you? Other than being exceptionally durable, what powers are you hiding?”

“Besides my winning personality and devastating good looks?”

I snort a laugh and wait for him to answer. He comes to stand in front of me, holds out a hand, and before I can blink he shifts it ever so slightly and a half-dollar sized medallion appears in his palm.

I stare down at the shining silver. “Magick tricks?”

“Hardly. I can access pocket realms. Not with as much skill or aplomb as some of my ancestors did, but enough.”

“Pocket realms?”

“The space between realms. Little folds of time and matter most creatures can’t access.”

I reach out to touch the medallion, but with another flick of his hand, it’s gone. Darting my eyes up to his, I’m caught by wickedly gleaming crimson.

At least until, just as fast as the medallion, Renwick disappears.

All I can do is gape at the emptiness where he was just standing, until a wave of warmth crashes over my back and two big hands land on my shoulders.

I gasp in surprise and whirl around to face him. “You can disappear, too? Like Silas?”

Renwick chuckles and shakes his head. “Not quite. Silas’s whole being disintegrates when he disappears. Think about my power more like stepping through a door into another room.”

“And what’s in the room?”

He shrugs. “Mostly nothing. Once upon a time, there might have been more my kind could access, but our power has waned through the generations. It does still help me put on one hell of a show in the Parlor, though.”

“Really? How?”

Another wicked grin as he leans in close. “You’ll have to come see me if you want to find out.”

“Maybe I will.”

“I certainly hope you will,” he murmurs. “But not tonight. You need to get to your shift before Odelia comes down here and cracks that whip of hers.”

We head for the door together, leaving the room in companionable silence and starting the climb out of the labyrinth.

“You’re coming to the bonfire tonight?” Renwick asks as we reach the top of the last staircase.

It’s Sunday night, just a couple of weeks before Samhain, and it’s the one day each week we close early. The staff usually gathers and cuts loose afterwards, though I’ve made it a point so far to stay away. No use making friends when I was so certain my time here was temporary.

Tonight, though…

I glance over at Renwick and find him watching me closely, something on his face that looks almost like… hope. It’s earnest and open, so much different from his usual wicked arrogance that I smother a laugh as I shrug.

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