Elsbeth
This red door has featured in my nightmares for years, though I’ve only ever seen it a handful of dire times.
Moments when my mother was out of miracles to keep a roof over our heads or when she had pushed another man to his breaking point, just to be rescued once again.
Because I didn’t learn how to manipulate Alric all on my own.
I had two teachers for all those years, and neither one of them cared if I lived or died, as long as I did exactly what they needed.
My heart is pounding in my chest, drowning out the sound of rain on the brick steps.
The last time I stood on this stoop was the day my magic presented.
My mother had been called to my middle school to get me to unlock the bathroom door before the office called the police to kick it down.
Alric had greeted me with so much pride.
“You’re finally ready to start training for your destiny.
Everything you’ve ever wanted is about to come true. ”
He told me about how the last of the legacies had also gotten his gift that week and though I was the last, mine was the most important. The most powerful.
I was finally useful.
Back then, I didn’t understand why I felt like I knew those boys without ever meeting them.
Something in the ether connected us. I felt it when I saw Asher in class for the first time.
Then again when I caught Thorne’s attention at the gym.
One by one, I picked up the familiar threads, fully prepared to cut them loose.
I’ve had the opportunity. They even gave me an alibi. But when I got close enough to each of them, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“You have to stick to the plan, Elsbeth,” I tell myself as flashes of their pleasure-ridden faces flash in my memory.
The sips of magic I’ve stolen from them have filled the cracks and craters Alric and my mother have created over the years.
It’s a strength that I didn’t know I could possess, let alone wield.
I’ve never been able to project my soul through time and space like this.
Invading broken dreams as a haze had been as far as my ability could extend, until Fox touched me in the study.
At first, I told myself that I had been swept up in the heat of the moment. I’d let my body override the plan. But small zaps of power buzzed through my muscles, warming me from the inside out. And it wasn’t until Asher reached climax that the floodgates opened.
“Stick to the plan,” I repeat.
I stare up at the dark windows and shift on my feet again. This is the point of no return. The only thing standing between the coven legacies seeing the light of another day rests on my next move. My future, my life . . . my legacy is standing on the other side of that treacherous door.
I take a calming breath and recount all the reasons I’m standing here:
The coven destroyed us. The legacies ensured that every known member of my line was snuffed out before they came of age to discover their gifts.
My ancestral blood stains the hands of the men who have given me a taste of what I’ve been starved for my entire life.
It’s their fault. Bishop, Elwell, Proctor, Morey . . . and Spelmen-Hawthorne.
I raise my arm and my hand shakes.
Knock.
Don’t you dare turn around.
They are still monsters.
They will kill you the moment they realize who you are.
Just knock.
But before my knuckle can tap the matte-red paint, the door flies open.
Alric towers over me. His silhouette is outlined by the lone light of his mudroom.
He reaches out an arm and I brace for the contact, closing my eyes tight. The feigned affection doesn’t come, but his dark chuckle does a moment later.
I open my eyes to see his forearm sticking through my middle. He pulls his arm back and wiggles his fingers with grotesque delight. “It took you long enough.”
To be continued . . .