Aurora settled on the desk, and time stretched agonizingly slow.
With no windows, she couldn’t count how many days had passed since she’d arrived, and she didn’t seem to experience fatigue in this form. It warped her perception. Minutes and hours all felt the same.
Fuck, she had to get out of here.
Sometime later, a thought occurred. Was it possible to make herself invisible so the next person didn’t run off so quickly?
Strictly speaking, a witch couldn’t create an illusion strong enough to render themself invisible, but Aurora was in uncharted territory here. She had no sense of her magic and couldn’t cast spells. All her active power must’ve still been running through her blood in her body, meaning she’d miscalculated when putting this spell together… But perhaps there was another way to harness the magic in her soul.
Even if she couldn’t access her usual abilities, magic ruled her existence in this form. A soul was pure magic. How else could she speak, hear, and feel with no vocal cords, ears, or nerves? Even if the jury was out on whether she could be heard by others, she could be seen.
But what if she simply didn’t want to be seen?
Raising a hand in front of her face, Aurora told herself to be invisible. Nothing happened. She scowled and tried again, meditating on the idea of going unnoticed. Willing her presence to be missed.
She opened her eyes, and her hand was gone.
Aurora wiggled her finger and saw nothing. She brought her hand to her nose, feeling along her face, but still didn’t see anything in front of her.
It was thrilling. Aurora knew the bounds of her magic better than almost anything, and to discover something new, something completely outside the realm of what she’d believed possible, made her wonder what else she could do.
The echo of a closing door sounded in the distance.
Aurora jolted, her hand flickering into view. She drifted to the corner of the room and willed herself to go unnoticed, tingles of anticipation twisting inside her.
Footsteps sounded outside. There was a pause, then the handle turned.
The door flung open and crashed into the wall.
The same woman with dark brown hair appeared in the doorway. Her eyes narrowed, and she scanned the room.
She huffed. “There’s nothing here.”
She didn’t sound entirely confident, but Aurora wasn’t about to reveal herself. With another look around, the woman shut the door and stepped farther into the office.
It was annoying that she hadn’t left it open. Oh well. She’d have to leave eventually, and Aurora would sneak out with her.
Mystery-woman tucked her hair behind her ears, opened a filing cabinet, and rifled through a few folders, a frown tugging at her soft pink lips. With a sigh, she closed the cabinet and sat behind the desk to turn on the computer, typing in the password written on a sticky note stuck to the monitor.
The woman’s brow furrowed as she scanned the computer screen.
If Aurora had to guess, whoever-she-was was in her mid-twenties, same as Aurora. Reflexively, Aurora scanned her for magic, but without direct access to her own power, the detection spell didn’t work.
How frustrating. Aurora had no clue if this woman was a witch, vampire, or human.
As the mystery woman clicked around on the computer, Aurora drifted out of her corner. Unnoticed, she hovered behind her companion’s shoulder and snooped on the screen.
Eww. Spreadsheets.
The file window closed, revealing a picture of the Spotlight Theater as the desktop background.
Aurora’s invisible skin prickled. Wasthatwhere she was?
It almost made sense.
No wonder no one had been around while she’d moldered away in this office for Satan knew how long. Susan Lockwood had passed away, and Aurora had heard the theater was closed while the coven grieved.
Aurora had met the Lockwood Coven leader once, when Susan had officially invited her to join. Of course, Susan’s death had delayed Aurora accepting, but she hadn’t wanted to bother any of her friends about coven membership when their loss was fresh. It wasn’t like the offer would disappear once the witches had selected a new leader, and Aurora couldn’t officially join until she’d left her coven. She’d been busy trying to gather the courage to sever her earthly ties, arguing with her friends about there being no other way.
