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I dress in a black leather mini skirt, a cropped velvet bustier top, and the same over-the-knee boots that I’m certain almost gave her a coronary. For the pièce de résistance, I pin Elizabeth’s onyx brooch in the center of the bodice. It’s an heirloom that’s been passed down to every chosen Wildblood woman, and I wear it proudly as a sign of our resilience. Our defiance. My message to Salomé is as clear as I can make it.
You will not change who I am.
Since our outing to The Society’s church, I’ve decided if she wants to shove her religion down my throat, she can have a taste of mine. I’ve been leaving things around the house for her to find. Crystals, bundles of dried herbs and flowers, vials of elixirs, and the most entertaining: a stuffed piece of felt that I fashioned to look like a voodoo doll.
I’m anxiously waiting for the moment that she finds them.
Feeling that same energy, I grab the Ouija board before I leave my room and head downstairs to join my sisters. I’m eager to see them, and I want them to know I’m okay.
I’m half-expecting a somber greeting when I reach the sitting room, but there’s nothing that could have prepared me for what I actually find.
Cordelia, Winter, and Aurora are all sitting together on one sofa, trying to stifle their laughter as Raven sages the room around them. Most notably, she’s focusing on the area around Emmanuel, who happens to be sitting on the largest chair, watching her with disdain.
“Raven,” I squeak out. “What are you doing?”
“What?” She blinks at me innocently. “This room was full of bad energy. I’m trying to dispel it, but it doesn’t seem to be working.”
I can’t help the laugh that bursts from my lips, which only seems to further sour Emmanuel’s mood. But truthfully, Raven has a point. What is he even doing in here?
“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Emmanuel says gruffly, rising to his feet.
But he doesn’t go, not right away. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes move over Raven, darkness flickering in their depths. It sends a chill through me because I recognize that look all too well. It was the same expression Azrael wore when he first set eyes upon me and realized I was his chosen Sacrifice.
“Raven,” I bite out.
She doesn’t seem to hear me because her eyes are locked on his, a strained expression on her face.
“Raven,” I say again.
This time, my voice seems to sever the connection, bringing them both back to the room around them. Emmanuel’s jaw ticks, and he dips his head in lieu of a goodbye as he takes his leave.
“Willow!” Cordelia flings herself at me before I can process what had just happened, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing so tight I can scarcely breathe. “I missed you!”
“I missed you too.” Tears prick my eyes as an unexpected wave of emotion takes me captive.
It isn’t long before they are all taking turns hugging me, even though they know I’m not a hugger. When it’s Raven’s turn, I give her a sharp look before whisper-hissing in her ear.
“What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know,” she grumbles. “You’ll have to ask him. The man is obviously certifiable.”
“Why was he even in here?”
“I have no idea.” She shrugs as I release her, her eyes looking everywhere but at me.
Something about this whole situation seems off, and I don’t like it.
“Stay away from him,” I warn her. “He’s dangerous.”
Even as I say it, I don’t know if that’s actually true. But still, he’s a Delacroix, which is reason enough to be wary.
“It’s fine, Willow. I want nothing to do with him.” Her eyes flicker to the Ouija board beneath my arm. “What are you doing with that old thing, anyway?”
I smirk, amusement coloring my voice as I reply, “What do you think I’m doing with it?”
“Fucking with them?” She laughs.
I nod, not even trying to deny it. My sisters and I only ever played with the Ouija board once, just to see if anything happened. It’s not something we actually use as a divination tool, but I brought it here because I suspected I might have a use for it.
“I figured I’ll just leave it here for them.” I set it on the coffee table. “They can wonder what we were up to in here.”
“Oh wait, even better.” Winter digs around inside her hobo bag, retrieving a piece of paper and a pen before she starts to scribble on it.
We all wait to see what it is she’s doing before she sets the paper on top of the board, bold black runic symbols scratched into the surface. They are perfectly harmless, but the Delacroixes don’t need to know that.
Cordelia is the first to burst out laughing, and soon, we’re all in stitches. I can just imagine Azrael’s face when he sees it. But even better will be Salomé’s mouth twisting like she just sucked on a lemon.
