Page 95 of Wolfsbane Hall
Dean rubbed his hands over his face, and in the process, he blinked out of existence, his body turning spectral.
“What the fuck?” Everett whispered. “What are you?”
“A witch.” The Herbalist’s face stretched into a crooked and rotting smile. “And not all at the same time.”
Dean reappeared and leaned over to James, muttering, “I think witches do exist, James,” continuing their conversation from before they entered the apothecary.
James nodded his response. “I think it’s a strong possibility, yes.”
“What have you done to us?” Dean glowered at the witch, his expression murderous.
She shrugged in a self-satisfied manner. “I’ve made you into immortal creatures known as Specters. Part human, part witch, part ghost. Both alive and dead, with some useful magic And since your ancestors were once witches, you will be the most powerful Specters in existence.”
“We’re what?” Everett gulped. “What powers?”
Her nose wrinkled. “You’ll find out.” She cracked her neck. “Just be happy we didn’t make you into vampires. Vile creatures, those.”
“Vampires?” Everett asked, fear coating his voice.
Dean balled his hands into fists. “Why do it?”
She laughed, a deep and sinister sound, her eyes turning black. “Because rich lordlings will be useful to us.” Amusement lit up herface. “Your magic feeds off manipulation, which shouldn’t be hard for young lordlings like yourself. But be wary, because if you go without manipulating someone for too long, you will cease to exist and die.”
James cocked his head, fairly certain the witch was lying about something, but he didn’t know what it was.
30
Saturday, November 11, 1939
The Grand Ballroom
The vision cleared, and intense pain shot up Celestine’s jaw and radiated out through her arm. She clutched her chest, knowing the pain was coming from her heart.Her time was up.
But she needed to fight through the pain and the weakness. She had one last riddle to solve, and now she understood it all. She knew the answer but wanted to see their faces as she solved it and left them.
Groggily, the family started to wake, their movements stiff and slow. Death still clung to their bones.
The Murder Mystery Game was officially solved, but it was not over. Everett, James, and Dean had murdered their mother together, almost as if they were one person. Although they weren’t, they were still three cruel men with their dramas and schemes.
The game tonight was like multiple Agatha Christie novels, bothMurder on the Orient ExpressandAnd Then There Were None.
But the show wasn’t over. There was still the dénouement.
Still, eleven minutes left of the show and to give the finalanswer. Babette and Celestine had to unmask the Specter. Eleven minutes left to live and solve the final riddle.
That didn’t seem as easy as it appeared. She thought the answer to the Murder Show would be the same as the identity of the Specter. But Celestine thought there was only one Specter. So, was she wrong? All three brothers worked together to murder Lorraine, but Dean was the Phantom, and James wasn’t the correct answer. Right?
Celestine thought that was right, but then everything in the show was so fucked up and cursed that she didn’t even know what was real anymore. She’d thought she’d had the answer many times before, but then she’d been wrong. There was a reason no one had unmasked the Specter before.
One Specter.
One name.
One answer.
Right?
It seemed so obvious. Dean and James had helped Everett with his revenge in the past. They had helped him murder his family and make them pay. They had always been his accomplices. They were now, too, but Everett was the Specter.
