Chapter 19 – Elise #2
Elise felt the warmth of Graham’s lips—gentle, deliberate, electric. There was a softness in the way he kissed her, like he was still making sure she had time to change her mind. But she didn’t want to. Not for a second.
It wasn’t the kind of kiss that swept them away—not here, not now, not with an entire cast of vocalists watching from ten feet away—but it was a promise. A moment suspended in time that said: this is the beginning of something.
Eventually, they both started grinning, because how could they not?
Graham pulled back first, just barely, his smile sheepish and eyes wide, like Well… that escalated. Elise gave the tiniest nod in return. Yes. It did. And I’m not mad about it.
Just in time, Nick took his theatrical bow with a flourish that would make the Phantom himself weep, accepting a standing ovation with zero humility.
Then he turned on his heel and sauntered over, cocky and beaming.
“Honestly? I should charge for this. Do you feel emotionally manipulated, but in a good way? Because that’s the vibe I was going for. ”
Elise, without missing a beat, leaned in. “Two words, Nicholas. Itching. Powder.”
Nick grinned. “Totally worth it.”
Then, as if on cue, he gestured grandly to their empty glasses. “Alright, Romeo and Juliet, drinks are dry and we are celebrating—move it.”
Bless him.
It was exactly the out Elise needed to shake off the sudden floodlight-level attention. With a grateful smile, she stood and joined the conga line of cast and crew spilling back into the hallway toward the glowing, pulsing safety of the bar.
With fresh drinks in hand and a jello shot already dissolving pleasantly on her tongue, Elise let herself be tugged into the second karaoke room by a very enthusiastic Romy.
Inside, the energy was electric. Sienna was absolutely murdering “Wrecking Ball,” and Elise hadn’t laughed that hard in ages.
She felt like herself. No ghosts, no wards, no creeping dread.
Just lights, friends, and Graham’s arm casually slung around her waist like it had always belonged there.
She leaned into him, riding the high of the night like a wave.
And then… bzzz.
She felt it in his pocket before she saw it. Graham stiffened slightly, pulling out his phone. The screen lit up—and his eyebrows did that very specific “What the hell?” scrunch.
He turned the screen toward her. Lark.
“That normal?” she asked carefully.
He shook his head, bewildered. “No. Not at all.”
Without needing to say anything else, they both slipped out of the crowded room and into the hallway. The music dulled behind them as the door swung closed, and they found a quiet patch of wall just out of the way.
Graham pressed the phone to his ear, confusion still etched across his brow. “Hello?”
Elise stood close, watching him carefully. She couldn’t hear Lark’s voice, not exactly, but she thought she heard her own name. Graham’s eyes flicked to her, still puzzled.
“Yeah, she’s here with me,” he said slowly. “Hold on.”
He handed the phone to Elise, and she took it with a curious frown. “Hi Lark—what’s up?”
The answer was not what she expected.
Lark’s voice was tight, trembling. It didn’t sound like her at all. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I need to tell you something. It’s important.”
A coil of unease twisted in Elise’s stomach. “Okay... Tell me what?”
“No. Not over the phone,” Lark said quickly. “Please. I need you to come back to the theatre so I can explain. Bring Graham if you want. Just—please hurry.”
The desperation laced through those last words stuck to Elise like static. Her brain was already moving faster than her mouth.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Okay. We’ll come now.”
She ended the call and slowly handed the phone back to Graham.
“She says she needs to talk to us,” Elise said, her voice low. “Something important. Something she won’t say over the phone.”
Graham blinked, trying to catch up. “Wait—what? She’s at the theatre right now? She wants us to go back? Now?”
Elise nodded, already moving. “Yeah. She sounded scared. Something’s wrong.”
The warmth of the party dimmed behind them like someone turning down the lights. Without another word, they turned to gather their things.
A few minutes later they turned into the alley, and there was Lark—standing under the world’s least flattering streetlamp, looking like she’d lost a fight with both a rainstorm and a panic attack.
“Don’t go in,” she said, voice rough. “I have to tell you something first.”
Elise and Graham exchanged a wary glance, but stopped where they stood.
Lark looked like she wanted to disappear into the pavement. She was shaking.
“I… I cast a love spell on you, Elise.”
The words landed like a slap in the silence.
Graham reeled back like he’d been physically struck. “You did what?!”
“I know. I know it was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it. I thought maybe you liked me… I just wanted to give it a nudge. Just a little push. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, I swear.”
Elise blinked. Opened her mouth. Closed it. Checked to see if maybe she was dreaming.
Lark kept going, tripping over her own guilt.
She was talking fast now, spiraling. “It was in the last city! I tried that brush—with my hair on it? When you didn’t use it, I got desperate. I took your mugwort and rosemary. It was perfect. I thought… it would work.”
She wrung her hands, eyes wild.
“I cast the spell the night of the cast party. My plan was to activate it and then meet you there. But something went wrong.”
Lark’s voice cracked.
“When I spoke your name into the weave… something heard me. Something came through. I don’t know what it was—but it twisted the spell. Hijacked it. Ever since then, it’s been following me. Haunting me. Hurting me.”
She held out her arms, and Elise could see bruises—thin finger-shaped welts blooming beneath her sleeves.
“I tried to fix it. I tried everything. But I think it’s bound now. To me. Or maybe… to you.”
The air had gone cold around them. Graham was silent, jaw tight.
Elise was burning inside—anger at Lark’s betrayal, at the violation—but she swallowed it. Now wasn’t the time. There were bigger things coming.
Things with teeth.
Elise steadied her voice. “What happened tonight, Lark? Why did you call us here?”
Lark swallowed hard. “I tried to banish him.”
Elise blinked. “What?”
“I thought this would be the perfect spot,” Lark rushed on. “There’s a thin place here. A liminal fold. You’ve felt it, right?”
Elise’s stomach turned. The Whispering Wall. Of course.
She nodded once, tightly.
Lark’s words came faster now, like she had to get them out before they choked her. “I thought maybe, if I called him out… if I used the right protections, if I anchored the spell properly—I could push him back through.”
She shook her head, eyes shining. “But it didn’t work. I’m not strong enough. Or maybe I just don’t know enough. The usual banishment rites aren’t doing anything. He’s… different.”
Graham stood frozen, watching Lark like she might shatter.
“There’s more,” she said, voice breaking. “I think he has Ellen.”
The confirmation hit Elise like a punch to the ribs.
“What?”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Lark choked. “I didn’t know. But when I cast the love spell I… I was trying to move on. I thought if I focused on something new, if I anchored it right, I could break the pattern.”
She rubbed a hand over her face. “But I kept thinking about Ellen. About how we left things. About how I wanted to let her go. And now I don’t know if the spell took that as a sacrifice. A trade.”
Elise felt a cold shiver start at her spine.
“I don’t know if it was intent,” Lark whispered. “Or if it just… chose her. Because she was nearby. Or because she looked like me. Or you.”
That last part hung heavy in the air. Elise knew what she meant—the three of them, often mistaken for one another in the dim backstage lights. Same height, same silhouette.
Elise felt sick. She took a breath, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. “Lark… he’s been haunting me too.”
Lark looked up sharply.
“I think—” Elise hesitated, but she had to say it. “I think you summoned the Specter of my ex. You said my name in the spell, and he heard it. Came looking.”
Lark’s eyes widened. She clapped a hand over her mouth, horror dawning across her face.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “That explains so much.” She looked ready to throw up. “I’ve read about specters. I’ve never dealt with one. I thought he was just an angry spirit. I didn’t think he could… take someone.”
Graham stepped forward, his voice sharp. “You said the banishment went wrong tonight. What happened? Why did you call us here—just to clear your conscience?”
Lark flinched. “No. I mean—yes, I needed to tell you. But that’s not why I called. The spell didn’t just fail—it... backfired.”
She looked between them, wringing her hands. “I think I trapped him—partially. He’s caught in the binding circle I cast, but he’s feeding on it. On the magic, on the intent behind it. It’s fueling him.”
Graham paled. Elise felt her stomach twist.
Lark pressed on, breath quickening. “He’s still in the theatre. But once the binding breaks, he’s going to be stronger than ever. And he’s going to come for us. I know it. Wherever we go.”
Elise stared at her. “You’re saying you locked him in a magical pressure cooker.”
Lark nodded mutely.
Elise blinked. “Okay, but what do you want me to do? You’re the witch here.”
Lark winced. “I thought maybe you’d have... power. Influence. Or at least be able to ask him nicely to go haunt literally anyone else.”
She caught Elise’s expression and immediately crumbled. “I know. That was before I realized he was your ex. I didn’t plan for this. I don’t have a plan.”
“Cool,” Elise said, voice high with panic. “Love that for us.”
Graham tightened his grip on the strap of his bag, looking between Elise and Lark. “Well… how do we clean up this magical dumpster fire before it explodes?”
Elise stood frozen for a breath, the cold night air wrapping around her like a warning.