Page 53 of Monsters' Manor

“Enough sass, witch. Let’s go.”

Behind me, Silas chuckles. It’s such a surprise given how awkward and tense everything still feels that I whip my head around to look at him.

Silas catches my confused look and shrugs. “You should listen to him. I’d worry for the state of your soul if you don’t.”

Ren lets out his own low rumble of laughter, and for a few moments I’m stunned. I look at one, then the other, then back again in quick succession, trying to understand what’s going on here.

“Later,” Ren says, taking me by the chin and turning my face back toward his. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Even though I’m burning with curiosity over it all, I nod my agreement. I need to focus. I need to get my damn head on straight so I don’t accidentally roast someone tonight.

“I would wish you luck,” Silas says. “But I have a feeling you don’t need it.”

“Thanks,” I tell him. “I’ll try to believe you.”

With one last reassuring smile, he disappears into the twilight, leaving me and Ren alone.

Still holding me firmly in his arms, Ren grins down at me.

“Well, witch, how about it? Ready to make some magick?”

17

The pillars of my flames fade in the Parlor, accompanied by the sounds of shocked awe, delighted fright, and gasps of surprise. As the room is plunged into darkness, Ren’s low, ominous voice rises like a dark caress.

“So many souls ripe for the taking,” he murmurs, moving through the set unseen. “So many to be reaped into my realm.”

Standing just out of sight behind a curtain and following the cues we’ve spent the last three days going over and over, I start a slow lick of flame near Ren’s feet, just enough to cast him in a dim, demonic glow.

“Whose shall I take first?”

The flames disappear, and he steps into a pocket realm, only to reappear with another bright flare of my fire. The group of guests shriek in surprise, scrambling to the other side of the room.

I keep the flames completely controlled, completely contained, feeding off Ren’s magick, the guests’ emotions, and the crackling hum of power that wends its way all throughout the Acres tonight.

It’s… wonderful. This power. The feel of it burning through my veins. The pulse of bone-deep certainty that I’m the one who wields it, I’m the one whose will it bends to.

“Delicious,” Ren croons. “Your fear is delicious, mortals.”

I hold back a wave of laughter at his dramatics, and catch his eye for a moment as I shower him in sparks. There, in the gleam of his crimson gaze and the twitches at the corners of his lips, is the smallest break in character that lets me know he’s enjoying this just as much as I am.

The scene goes on for a bit like that—taunting and frightening and delighting the guests—until it builds into a crescendo with Ren in the center of the room, surrounded by my fire.

“Go, now,” he hisses to the crowd. “Lest you find yourself caught forever in hellfire, my loyal servants for eternity.”

The harpy who’s serving as the usher for this group catches my eye. With a brief nod, I extinguish my flames and throw the room into darkness as the guests scurry out.

They’re our last guests coming through tonight, and when the heavy wooden door closes behind them, I let out a long, relieved breath. I send a few spare flames around the room to light the candles on the sideboard and in the hanging chandelier above.

As I do, it hits me, really hits me.

I did it.

I made it through tonight completely in control of my magick. I didn’t hurt anyone. I didn’t make any mistakes.

I did it.

I let out a giddy, stunned laugh and Ren is right there, taking me by the shoulders and turning me to face him.

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