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“Hear me. Lose yourself in me. Heed my words, my command,” Sylvia growled. “I command you, Hugo Dodds. I command you tokill the witch.”

Chapter 25

A Gothic Proposal

Clouds swirled like a thick ichor in the night sky, obscuring any light from the moon. The oppressive rain spattered against Alice’s face and body. Not a pouring rain, but a steady drip slowly eating away at a soul. Her drenched hat seeped onto her hair. Her tailcoat provided protection from completely soaking her. A late November chill was in the air, biting away at her face and hands as she held onto the flying broomstick.

“Come on, girl, give me a little more,” Alice said.

The broomstick fishtailed in the night sky.

“I know. I know. We have to hurry.”

For all of Alice’s and Hugo’s planning, it only half worked. Only one of the Savinos perished on this night. Sylvia most likely had an easy path back to Newbury Grove through her magical room. If only Alice was so lucky. She had to get back before Sylvia could retaliate.

Alice relied on the lights of the cars below to find her way home, not wanting to cast a light in the sky and draw attention to herself. She followed the serpentine like roads as she retreated from the city and into the country. Soon, the treetops of Wildgrove Park appeared and then the orange glow of the town center. A fewmore turns and the awaiting comfort of her purple house came into view.

She snapped her fingers and dampened the light on the front porch as she landed. She jumped off. Her heart raced, powered by the adrenaline still coursing through her body. Alice twirled around, vigilant and ready for an ambush. There was no movement. No signs of vampires rushing up her porch. An eerie stillness descended on Ravenhill Drive. The only audible sound was rain spattering off the roof and against the wood siding.

Alice gulped and breathed in deeply to calm her nerves. When satisfied she was alone, she produced a brass key from her coat pocket. She inserted the key into the black door and turned the diamond shape knob. Alice gave a whistle to Guinevere and entered the purple house. The broomstick followed behind.

Alice kicked the door shut with her foot as she removed her tailcoat and bag, placing them on the coat rack. She tossed her hat onto the railing newel post and then snapped her fingers. The water disappeared, leaving her hat, coat, and purple hair now dry. Alice glanced down the hallway. Hugo wasn’t there to greet her.

“Hugo!” Alice yelled. “Sebastian is dead. Gwennie stabbed him in the heart. They whisked Sylvia away before we could take her out. I’m sure they’ll retaliate soon. We need to be ready.”

There was no response.

“Hugo?” Alice called once more.

The house was dark. The light from the candles above the fireplace spilled into the hallway, casting a dancing glow on Alice. There was no sound. Alice’s heart raced once more. Her eyes acclimated to the darkness, revealing the hidden details of the objects on the console tables lining the hallway. There were still no signs of Hugo. She gulped.

“Hugo, this isn’t funny.”

She peered into the living room. No signs of Hugo. Alice could hear the beats of her heart in her eyes. She moved down the hallway, taking small steps. She entered the dining area. No one was sitting atthe table. She continued into the kitchen. She found only darkness in the empty kitchen.

“Hugo, I’m not in the mood for games!” Alice shouted.

Guinevere bumped against the basement door, catching Alice’s attention.

“What is it, girl?”

The broomstick continued bumping against the door.

“Is he down there?”

Guinevere rammed the door twice more before turning to face her witch. Alice approached the door with soft steps, trying not to signal her approach. The flooring creaked and moaned with each step, betraying her position. She was a few feet from the door, reaching out with her hand for the knob.

The door flung open, blocking her view of who exited. A figure grabbed Guinevere, pulling it back behind the door. The crack of wood breaking over a knee filled the hallway.

“No!” Alice said and went for the door.

Someone pulled it back and then forcibly slammed the door into Alice’s face, momentarily stunning her.

Alice covered her face with her hands to assess the damage. Nothing was broken, and she wasn’t bleeding. The numbness hid the pain. She lifted her face in time to see the figure throw the broomstick down the stairs and slam the door.

“Alice!” Hugo shouted.

As Alice laid her eyes on the outline of Hugo standing before her, her heart skipped a beat and she stood frozen in shock.