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His mother turned toward the door, then back to me, panic in her eyes.

Xavier was home.

The sound of a car door closing outside jolted me into action.

I had two choices: stay here and endure Xavier’s torture and hope I survived long enough for Ren to find me, or somehow get past the hall of monsters on the top floor and make it to the attic, if it even existed here at all, and hope Xavier couldn’t find me.

The door opened and closed downstairs.

Adrenaline spiked, giving me the surge of strength I needed. Xavier’s mother waved toward the door urgently.

“Thank you,” I said to her again, then spun away, out of the room, taking the next two flights of stairs as fast and quietly as I could.

I looked up to the fourth-floor landing. The darkness up there was dense, suffocating. My magic might’ve been all but drained, but I was a witch, a Thornheart, and I sure as hell wasn’t weak.

I thought about Zinnia, about Willow, and Mags, about Rose and Iris, and Daisy and Else. All of them warriors in their own way. I may not know how to fight these monsters physically, but I was clever and resourceful.

I rushed back down to the third floor. I didn’t have much time. Xavier would be going down to the basement to check on me soon. Flinging doors open, I searched until I found what I needed. Then I rushed back up the stairs.

It was now or never.

When I reached the fourth-floor landing, I held up the candles I’d found in one of the bedrooms and drew on my weakened magic, whispering the spell to light them. Fire flared. The candles were thick, real beeswax, and they cast a decent pool of light around me.

A scuttling sound came from just ahead, followed by claws being dragged along the wood paneling lining the hall. I was still weak, my legs unsteady, something the fear and adrenaline pumping through me wasn’t helping. This was a long shot, but in fairy stories, dark equaled bad, and light, good. No, the world wasn’t that black and white, but to a child, that was truth, that was why Xavier had monsters protecting the most vulnerable parts of his mind in darkness.

An adult might have created locks, steel walls, or buried them deep underground. But Xavier had been a child when he created the barriers in his mind and this alternate realm in his house—somewhere he could be himself, where he could do the terrible things he craved before his mother found out what he was.

And what was a child scared of? Monsters, under the bed, hiding in the shadows waiting to pounce.

“Jasmine!” Xavier bellowed downstairs.

Fuck.

I took a step forward into the dark hallway, holding one of the candles behind me and one in front, so I was surrounded by a ring of soft light. Oh goddess. I could hear the monsters moving around me, surrounding me. I held the candles higher and stifled my scream.

One of them slithered in front of me, the light from the candle casting shadows on its hideous face. Its pupils blew wide from the light, and it hissed, lifting a bony arm to protect its eyes.

“Get back,” I said. “Let me pass.”

It didn’t move. Jagged teeth filled its wide mouth, its eyes huge in its gaunt face. I could feel another close behind me, could hear it breathing, could smell its sour breath. The one in front of me lifted a dirty claw-tipped finger, arm outstretched. It breached the light around me—

With a shriek and a hiss, he scuttled back.

I was right. Light hurt them, scared them. I took another step forward, chancing a quick look behind me. The others were gathering closer, but stayed back after seeing what happened to their friend. As I advanced, the one in front moved back.

Something swiped at my ankle, slicing flesh, and I bit my lips to stop from crying out.

I needed more light. I lifted one candle high and lowered the second. I could feel blood trickling down my leg. There was another quick swipe on the other side, where the shadows were thicker. I kicked out and made contact with something. It growled and snapped its teeth. I couldn’t let go of the candles, and I had to walk carefully. If the flames went out, I was screwed. So far they hadn’t figured that part out, and I was praying to the mother that they didn’t.

I was close to the end of the hall, where I assumed the attic stairs would be—if there were any at all. The monster in front jerked forward, teeth flashing. I waved my candle at it, and it slithered back out of the light. Something stood against the wall ahead. A ladder. It was misshapen and narrow, but it led up to a manhole in the ceiling.

The monster in front of me slid to the side to escape the light, joining the monsters behind me. I turned so my back was to the ladder. Almost there.

When I finally bumped into the wall, I carefully placed the candles on the floor so the light formed a wide circle around me. “Stay the hell back,” I said and gripped the ladder with a hand behind me, stepping onto the first rung backward. It was awkward, but I wasn’t giving them my back, not yet.

One of them swiped at me with a snarl, still staying clear of the ring of light. The candle flame wavered perilously. His black, red-rimmed eyes watched it do this, and he waved his massive clawed hand at it again. It disappeared for a moment, then flared back to life.

The monster looked at me, and I was positive it smiled.