Chapter 15 Ready for Screaming
Amabel
I pushed open the front door of the farmhouse and immediately sensed something was off. The house felt emptier somehow, the silence different, and I realized it was because I couldn’t sense any of Eluned’s energy.
Before I could call out for her, a shadow detached itself from the hallway. Foster Collins, all six-foot-five of him, loomed before me with his arms crossed over his chest, muscles bulging beneath his black t-shirt.
“Where did Wild Thing run off to?”
My smile turned brittle at the edges. I didn’t like his insinuation that I should know Eluned’s whereabouts at all times. I thought she’d made it perfectly clear that she was tired of coddling.
“She should be around here somewhere. It’s a big house. Did you check your pants?”
“Don’t play games, little girl.” He ignored my jab and crossed the room, eyes narrowing. “Where is she?”
“Well, let’s see… What did she tell me? Hmm… Oh, that’s right. Nothing.” I shot him a sour look and raised my chin.
“She said she was going with you,” he snapped.
“Oh, really? News to me. I went alone specifically to get away from her dramatics for a bit. Yesterday’s shopping trip was enough.”
“When did you last see her?”
“Before bed,” I admitted as I brushed past him, heading toward the downstairs bathroom with my purchases. “Why?”
Foster followed, his heavy footsteps oddly silent for such a large man. One of the perks of being a wolf shifter, I supposed.
“Two hours ago, I did a perimeter sweep, then came in to grab some coffee. She was in the kitchen, said she was going with you.” He leaned against the doorframe, watching me restock the medicine cabinet with birth control. “Haven’t seen her since.”
A knot formed in my stomach, but I forced my hands to be steady as I closed the mirrored door.
“She’s off on a tantrum, then.”
“Yeah, but where?” Foster’s fingers drummed against his bicep. “Yesterday, she said she was tired of waiting to take out worthless—”
“Serafina.” I paused, staring at my wide-eyed reflection.
“And something about an old water witch owing her a favor. Ondine something.”
“Filcher.” I finished, tossed the paper pharmacy bag in the trash can with more force than necessary. “Ondine Filcher.”
Old Ondine was a mediocre witch at best, but she specialized in water magic. And Eluned’s attention had been centered on the lake at Evermere for the past few days…
The pieces clicked together in my mind with sickening clarity.
“That impulsive idiot,” I muttered, curling my fingers. “She wouldn’t have.”
But even as I said it, I knew she would. El never could stand being patient. While I calculated and planned, she burned with the need for immediate action.
“Wouldn’t have what?” He dropped all pretense of casualness.
“Asked Ondine to help her get into Evermere,” I said through gritted teeth.
“What?” he half-laughed, then shook his head, his mane swishing around his head. “You think she had the balls to actually try that? Alone?”
“Seems the most likely explanation.”
“Shit!”
“Yes, more of her shit.” I closed my eyes briefly, centering myself against the rising tide of panic. “Mother will be home tomorrow night. She’s going to kill me,” I whispered, the rare admission of fear slipping out before I could catch it.
He knew as well as I did what that meant. Arabesque Harrow did not tolerate failure.
“What are we going to tell her?”
“We?” I laughed, the sound brittle and sharp. “There is no we in this, Foster. You’re Mother’s hired muscle. I’m her daughter. The consequences will fall on me, even if this is not my fault!”
He didn’t argue. No point in arguing with the truth.
“How do we find out?” he asked. “Can you call that water hag and at least ask if Eluned is there? How far away does she live?”
“Hour. Hour and fifteen minutes.”
“So we might still have time to stop her.” Foster was far more hopeful than I was. “Call her, Amabel!”
“Fine.” I pulled out my phone. “But the Devil save her if she helped my sister go on a suicide mission!”
“Just find out,” he rumbled.
Two minutes.
Two minutes was all it took to confirm Eluned’s hare-brained scheme. I locked eyes with him, both of us gulping.
“Well, we can’t get to her in time to stop her, so start planning what we’re going to do,” he barked, already striding for the door. “I need to lock the rogues down, then I’ll be back. Come up with something good, witchling, or we’re both dead.”
Then he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving me to stew in anxiety and exasperation.
“Thirty-six hours,” I whispered to myself. “Then Mother will be home.”
Damn you, El! How dare you do this to me?!
#
Eluned
The wedding gown was heavier than I’d anticipated.
The lace clung to my skin, the layers of tulle and satin dragging like a weight around my legs.
But I didn’t care. It was perfect. A vision.
A statement. Serafina would see me rising from the lake like some vengeful goddess, and she’d know that her happiness was as fragile as glass.
That I could shatter it with a single, well-placed blow.
“Are you sure about this?” Ondine asked, her voice tinged with doubt.
She was shaky and ancient, but she’d do.
Her magic was strong enough to get me into Evermere, and that was all that mattered.
She stood at the edge of the pool, her hands hovering over the water, her brow furrowed.
“The wards around Evermere are no joke. If they catch you—”
“They won’t catch me,” I snapped, adjusting the bodice of the gown.
It was a little tight, but that only made me feel more powerful. Like I was wearing armor. And it made my tits pop. I couldn’t wait for Foster to see. Maybe he’d rip the silk and lace to shreds. The thought made my belly flutter and my thighs quiver.
“But if they do, they could trace you back to me,” Ondine whined.
“Sounds like a you problem. Besides, even if they do catch me, what’s the worst that could happen? They send me back? They’re too soft to do anything worse than that.”
“The Cimmerians? Soft? Are you dense, little girl?”
“Serafina’s made them soft,” I scoffed. “You haven’t seen them since they married her. Laughing and dancing and fawning all over her. Even the blond one, taking curses for her.”
Ondine didn’t look convinced, but she went back to work without further arguing. Good. I didn’t have time for her cowardice. Foster’s words still echoed in my mind from yesterday, spurring me on.
“You’re an incredible witch, Eluned. A surprise attack sounds perfect. They won’t know what hit them.”
Foster believes in me, I thought with a smile, feeling invincible. And I believe in myself.
“Now send me through,” I said, stepping into the pool.
The water was freezing, biting at my ankles, but I didn’t flinch.
I waded in deeper, the gown billowing around me, the fabric darkening as it soaked up the water.
“And don’t forget the monster. Something big.
Something terrifying. I want Serafina to scream. ”
Ondine nodded, her wrinkly old face shifting from doubt to determination. She rummaged around in a tall, wooden cupboard for a moment, then came back and handed me a token, a small silver lobster inside a clear ball, like a toy from a bubblegum machine.
“Take it out of the plastic and put it in the water when you’re ready for screaming to start,” she muttered.
Then she raised her hands, and the water around me began to churn, swirling in slow, deliberate circles. I felt the pull of her magic, the way it wrapped around me like a current, tugging me deeper. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment. This was it. This was my triumph. My masterpiece.
“Ready?” Ondine asked.
“Do it!”
The water surged, and I went under. The weight of the gown dragged me down, but I didn’t fight it.
I let the magic take me, let it carry me through the depths.
The world around me was dark and silent, the pressure of the water pressing in on all sides.
But I wasn’t afraid. I was exhilarated. I could feel the magic working, feel the distance between me and Evermere shrinking with every passing second.
I almost laughed, the sound bubbling up in my chest. This was going to be perfect!
The water shifted, and I was being pushed upward, toward the surface. I opened my eyes, the darkness giving way to faint, rippling light. The lake. I was there!
I did it!
I really did it!
Breaking through the surface with a gasp, I felt the frigid morning air hit my face like a slap. The gown clung to me, heavy and dripping, but I didn’t care. I was here. I was in Evermere.
And where’s Amabel? I thought with a little smile. Oh, still in her room, planning.
The gown was an unexpected nightmare. It dragged me down like an anchor, the sodden fabric tangling around my legs as I treaded water.
I cursed under my breath, shoving the heavy skirts aside, but I didn’t dare leave the lake.
Not yet. Wards were everywhere, and I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could outsmart them entirely.
No, the water was my shield, my hiding place. I just had to be patient.
Patience. Ugh. Amabel’s favorite word.
I made a face, but knew this wasn’t the time to get sloppy.
I poked my head above the surface, scanning the grounds of Evermere with narrowed eyes.
The manor loomed in the distance, its windows glittering in the early morning light.
The air held the kind of chill that made your breath fog, and the lake was still, its surface like glass. Picture perfect.
It made me sick.
“How dare she? A little mouse like her, thinking she can rise above her station. She belongs on her knees, scrubbing floors, not playing lady of the manor. Well, I’ll remind her where she belongs. On her belly at my feet, where she’s always been.”
I ducked back under, letting the water swallow me whole. The cold bit at my skin, but I reveled in it. Pain was good. Pain made me feel. Pain let me know I was alive.