Page 84 of Witch Undecided
“You can’t.” Anna frowned. “The portal won’t admit a demon, but I’d prefer you not to go alone, Cora. Take Sloane with you. She’s been to Blackmore before.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Sloane.
She answered on the second ring. “Miss me already, cupcake?”
My pulse kicked up at the sound of her voice. I cleared my throat. “How about we play hooky and head to Blackmore to pick up a glamour?”
She was silent for a long beat. “Where you at?”
“Anna’s office.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
Sloane arrivedat Anna’s office a few minutes later and her gaze zeroed in on the portal door.
“Nice,” she drawled. “Beats driving.”
Conah didn’t look too convinced. “Mobile portals can be unstable. Are you sure this is safe?”
“The sisters wouldn’t put the anchor in danger,” Anna replied.
Sloane opened the door to reveal a swirling purple miasma of light, then held her hand out to me. “Shall we?”
I slipped my palm into hers. “Let’s do this.”
We stepped into the light.
I expected the shattering sensation that came with a jump, or a sense of being undone and reassembled, but there was no sense of displacement. One moment I was in Anna’s study and the next I was standing on gray flagstones in a small courtyard surrounded by high walls topped with iron spikes. The sky above was a churning mass of angry gray clouds.
Sloane squeezed my hand before letting go. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I scanned the empty courtyard. There were a couple of benches and a dried-up fountain but nothing more.
“This is where the sisters get some air,” Sloane said. “Come on.”
“How often have you been here?”
“Used to play courier for Anna all the time.” She arched a brow my way. “I’musually the one they ask for.”
She led me to a door that looked like it was made of wood and iron, and at least a foot thick. There was a heavy knocker in the shape of a torch. Sloane lifted it then slammed it onto the metal, but there was no sound.
“Okay, that’s weird.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “There are a lot of weird features to this place.”
“Have you any idea why they’d ask formeto pick up the glamour?”
“Curiosity?” She raked me over. “Maybe they want to probe your mind to make sure you’re not going to go nutso like Charlotte.”
Wait, what? “Are you serious?”
She rolled her eyes. “Chill, cupcake. If they want to probe you, they’ll have to go through me.”
The grate of metal on metal cut through the silence—a lock being disengaged—and then the door was pulled open, revealing gloom lit by flickering light.
An oval face framed with unruly dark curly hair peered up at us. Wide brown eyes, a thin mouth, and a straight nose, the woman studied Sloane then me, nodded, and stepped back to admit us.
“Nice to see you too, Gertie,” Sloane said. “Been a while.”
