Chapter 23
23
ESME
T he next evening at Ancient Magicks, I lingered by the crystal display, my fingers tracing the edge of the shelf. We weren't open to the public today because new shipments had arrived, so we'd only come in for a few hours later in the day to get everything inventoried. Which was good, because I'd had a hard time sleeping after Brogan walked me home, and I was glad when Lizzy and Angel had come by with some coffee and beignets.
Now, Lizzy was humming at the counter, unpacking a new shipment of herbs. The shop smelled like sage and something faintly sweet, but my mind was elsewhere.
“Lizzy,” I started, but then I stopped, not knowing the right way to ask. I wasn’t sure how she’d react.
She turned, her dark hair catching the last rays of the setting sun as it streamed through the window. “What’s up?”
I hesitated for a moment, then pushed forward. “Can I stay here after you close tonight? And may I use the room in the back?” I’d feel a lot safer in there than out in the middle of a graveyard. Although I’d have to return there for the last trial.
Her eyebrows shot up and she stopped what she was doing, setting down the bundle of dried lavender to give me her full attention. “For what?”
“I need to do something,” I said, keeping it vague. I couldn’t tell her about the ticking clock in my head. Not yet. “It’s personal.”
She studied me for a long moment, her brown eyes searching mine.
I hurried to add. "If I'm not allowed, I can find somewhere else. I just need someplace…safe."
For a moment, I thought she would refuse, but then she nodded slowly. “Alright. I'll have to open the door for you. There's a spell that keeps the room hidden. And I'll lock you in the store when I leave. There's a spare key for the front door in the file cabinet by the bathroom. Top drawer, in the back. Just be sure to lock up behind you when you're finished.”
“I will,” I said quickly, relief flooding me. “Thank you.”
She tilted her head, studying me. “If you need help with something, I'd be happy to stay.”
“No,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Thank you. It's something I need to do alone.”
She didn’t look happy, but she didn’t push it. “Alright. But I mean it—if you need anything, I'm here.”
Hot tears flooded my eyes, and I quickly turned away so she didn't see them. I cleared my throat, trying to find my voice, but it didn't do any good, so I just nodded.
"You're not alone, you know," she said softly. "You have friends here."
But that's where she was wrong. I was completely, entirely, utterly alone. I had to be. I couldn't involve anyone else in this. I gave her a watery smile, and told her what she wanted to hear. "I have you."
Lizzy came out from behind the counter and rushed over to me, grabbing me up in a hug as I fought to keep from sobbing outright. When she finally released me, she held onto my shoulders and forced me to look at her.
“I’ll say it one more time. You're not alone. No matter what Judy said. I'm here for you."
"I appreciate that," I told her sincerely. "I do. But I really need to do this one alone."
She scowled at me. "I don't like this. I don't know what you're doing. But I don't like it."
Neither did I. "It's really better if you don't know," I told her honestly.
After another long look, Lizzy let go of my shoulders, her expression still uneasy, but she didn’t press further. She walked back to the counter, her movements deliberate, and picked up the lavender she’d been unpacking. “By the way,” she said, her tone casual, “we have guests coming in from Seattle tonight. Killian is picking them up from the airport in a few hours.”
I wasn't sure why she was telling me this. "Friends of his?"
"I wouldn't exactly say that." She stopped and looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "More like allies."
"Vampires?"
She nodded, tying the lavender into a bundle with a piece of twine. “And witches. Relatives of the witches here."
"I don't understand."
She paused, glancing up at me. "I told you, you're not alone. Marcus has a son. Jesse. He's a powerful warlock. Half-witch, half-djinn. The last time his father was here, they fought, but Marcus got away."
My breath caught in my throat. Marcus’s son? I hadn’t even considered that Marcus might have a child, let alone one who wasn’t on his side. That changed things. That changed everything . If Jesse knew Marcus, if he understood him—maybe there was a way to stop him without the book. Maybe I didn’t have to find it. Maybe I could make a deal with this Jesse instead.
A flicker of hope sparked in my chest, fragile but insistent. It was the first time since I'd found Marcus in my apartment that I’d felt anything but dread. "And he's coming because his father is back?"
"Yes," she told me. "And he's bringing his sister, who is also half-djinn, along with their vampire mates—Shea and Christian." She stopped what she was doing. "I have a feeling that whatever you want to do here tonight has something to do with Marcus. Am I right?"
I didn't answer. But I didn't deny it.
She nodded as though I had. "Will you be in danger?"
I didn't lie when I said, "Not from him."
"Okay," she told me. "Do what you need to do. And then come to the house."
I shifted my weight, guilt gnawing at me. “Lizzy, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Brogan and I...” I drifted off, unsure how to explain everything that'd happened between us.
Her expression softened, and she reached across the counter, placing a hand on mine. “Listen to me. You’re my guest. Not his. If he has a problem with you being there, he can take it up with Killian and me. But he won’t.”
“We kind of had a fight,” I said quietly, pulling my hand away and crossing my arms. "Sort of." It was the first thing that came to my mind.
“Brogan will deal,” Lizzy interrupted. “He won’t make a scene, and if he does, I’ll handle it. You’re not some random person off the street, Esme. You’re my employee. My friend. And you’re welcome in my home. Got it?”
I nodded, unable to argue with her when she laid it out like that. “Sí. Got it."
“Good,” she said, straightening and returning to her bundles of lavender. “Besides, he'll probably be at the club."
Something ugly and painful streaked through me at the thought of Brogan on that stage, or worse, in the private room, but I shoved it down, reminding myself that I had no right to make any claims on him.
"Now," Lizzy continued, "let’s finish up here so you can do whatever you need to do and I can get Wiggles home.”
"Okay. Thank you," I told her again.
An hour later, I was alone in the warded room. I’d considered not going through with this now that help was on the way. However, I decided I’d rather be safe than sorry. The more prepared I could be, the better.
I extinguished every candle except one that I set down in front of me. The shadow talisman—a black stone pendant I'd spent hours carving earlier today with ancient symbols wrapped with a strand of my hair—hung heavy around my neck. Its weight seemed to increase as I prepared myself for the trial.
" El espejo de las sombras ," I whispered, placing a mirror I'd found on one of the shelves on the floor before me. The mirror of shadows.
I sat cross-legged in front of it, my obsidian knife in my hand, and once again made a small cut across my palm. Making a fist, I squeezed drops of my blood onto the mirror's surface. The darkness around me thickened as I closed my eyes and began to chant, calling forth my own shadows, the parts of myself I kept hidden.
" Revelar lo que está oculto. Mostrar lo que temo ." Reveal what is hidden. Show what I fear.
In order to do what was necessary to find the book, I needed to remove any of my fears that could be used against me.
The blood on the mirror's surface began to ripple, then spread outward in inky tendrils. I opened my eyes, continuing my chant, as the room grew colder and colder and the shadows responded to my call.
" Sombras de mi alma, vengan a mí ." Shadows of my soul, come to me.
At first, there was nothing. Then, slowly, the mirror no longer reflected the empty room. Instead, it showed only darkness that shifted and moved like living smoke. Within that darkness, shapes began to form.
Suddenly, I was in the mirror. Fire burned all around me, and I spun on my heel. I was in my house in Mexico as it burned. A moment later, screams erupted, so loud I thought my eardrums would rupture.
I was burning with my family.
The flames licked at my skin, but I couldn’t move. My family’s screams echoed in my ears. Their faces appeared in the blaze, contorting in agony as the fire consumed them. The smell of burning flesh made my stomach heave. My mother reached for me, her fingertips brushing mine before she was swallowed by the inferno.
“No!” I screamed, but the sound was swallowed by the roar of the fire. I stumbled back, the burning floor scorching my feet. The heat was unbearable, but the grief—oh God—it was so much worse.
I turned, desperate to escape, but the flames shifted, and I was no longer in the house.
My chest tightened as the darkness swirled and shifted, morphing into new fears. I would fail again. Brogan would die because of me. Everyone who tried to help me would suffer the same fate as my family.
"No!" I screamed when Brogan appeared in front of me. I didn't want him here! I didn't want him to get hurt. My heart pounded as he prowled toward me. However, I wasn't afraid anymore as I watched him come for me, his green eyes bright with hunger, my pulse racing and a heavy tension low in my stomach as I exposed my throat to him.
But as he drew closer, his face changed. His fangs elongated, his eyes darkened with hatred, stamping out any tenderness that was once there. He lunged at me, and I stumbled back, only to feel hands grab me from behind. I spun around to find Marcus, a cruel smile twisting his features. “You’re weak,” he hissed, his voice slicing through me. “You’ll never be strong enough to stop me.”
When he spun me back around, Brogan's body was lying on the street, broken and bloodied, his eyes staring lifelessly at nothing. I slapped my hands over my mouth as I screamed, closing my eyes. When I opened them again, more bodies littered the street. Lizzy. Killian. Elias. Kenya. Jamal. All of them.
People stepped over them like they weren't even there as the shadows whispered accusations, reminding me that death followed in my wake like a faithful dog. I couldn't escape it, couldn't outrun the curse that seemed etched into my very soul.
"No," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I won't let that happen."
The mirror's surface rippled again, showing me alone in the darkness as Brogan turned away from me in disgust after learning what I truly was—not just a bruja , but someone willing to use blood magic, to walk the edge between light and shadow.
My hands trembled as I gripped the talisman. " Acepto mis sombras. Son parte de mí . Acepto mis sombras. Son parte de mí . Acepto mis sombras. Son parte de mí ." I accept my shadows. They are part of me.
The mirror's surface began to pulse with each of my heartbeats. Pressing my bloodied palm against it, I continued, " Entrego mis miedos al talismán. Los contendrá por mí ." I surrender my fears to the talisman. It will contain them for me.
The shadow talisman grew hot and heavy against my skin as the darkness from the mirror flowed upward, twisting around my wrist, crawling up my arm toward the pendant. I felt each fear as it passed through me and into the stone around my neck—the guilt, the inadequacy, the terror of losing more people I cared about.
" Soy más que mis miedos ," I declared. I am more than my fears.
When the last tendril of shadow disappeared into the talisman, it pulsed once, twice, three times. And when it was over, I lifted it with a shaking hand toward the candlelight. It had been transformed, the black stone lightened to a deep midnight blue with veins of silver running through it, like shooting stars in the night sky.
I felt different—lighter, but stronger. And I needed to be stronger still if I had any hope of doing what I needed to do to find the book and use it against Marcus before he knew I had it.
Everything hurt as I slowly got up from the floor. My muscles screamed, my head swam, and my mouth was dry. But the Trial of Shadows was over, and I'd survived. Barely. Even if it would haunt me forever.
But there was no time to dwell on what I’d seen in the mirror. I couldn’t. I needed to get out of that room.
After I blew out the candle, I picked up the mirror and returned to the quiet solitude of Ancient Magicks, the light too bright for my sensitive eyes. The familiar surroundings provided a sense of comfort though, grounding me after the nightmares I'd just endured. After shutting the door to the secret room, I walked over to the shelf to return the mirror, unsurprised that there was no trace of my blood or shadows on its surface. A wave of dizziness washed over me and I reached out to steady myself.
Once it passed, I set the mirror down where I'd found it and grabbed my shirt and pulled it up to my nose. There was no trace of smoke or fire, but I still felt gritty, so I went back to the restroom and washed my face, brushed my hair, and reapplied my lipstick. Staring into the mirror, I felt a little more like myself again.
The bell above the door jingled. Fresh from the trial I'd just endured, ice cold fear froze the blood in my veins. I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, my hands still gripping the edge of the sink as I listened.
Footsteps. Slow, deliberate, and heavy. Not Lizzy’s light, quick steps.
My stomach dropped. Lizzy had locked the door. I was sure of it. No one else should have been able to get in. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to think. The door to the hidden room was shut. I couldn't retreat back there. Besides, I’d be trapped until Lizzy showed up tomorrow morning and I’d have no way of warning her. No, I needed to stay calm. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe someone had broken in. A thief. Or a drunk tourist wandering in from the street.
Carefully, I cracked open the bathroom door just a crack, peering out into the back storage room. I saw no one, but my skin prickled with awareness.
I stepped out of the bathroom, listening. The shop was still, the only sound the faint hum of the heat coming on.
“Hello?” I called out, my voice trembling despite my efforts to steady it.
Only silence answered.