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Sylvia smiled. “Now, be a good pet and let me in.”

Hugo tried to resist. Every fiber in his being screamed for him to not let her in, but something compelled him. Something took control. Sylvia was taking control over him, forcing him to act against his will. But how?

He turned the ornate diamond knob and opened the door. Sylvia entered. Her hands were concealed within the pockets of her crimson velvet jacket. The swallowtail hem extended down to the back of her knees and sashayed with every step as her high heels clacked against the hardwood.

“Thank you. Now shut the door. Stand there until I tell you to move, and don’t speak unless I tell you to do so. I want your eyes to follow me around,” she ordered.

Hugo shut the door as commanded and remained motionless. He tried to scream. He tried to yell, but was frozen, held in place by an unseen force. His arms tightened. Fear overwhelmed him.

They had breached the door. They were inside.

Sylvia tapped him twice on his left cheek and traced her fingers down under his chin. “Good boy.”

Sylvia examined her surroundings, settling on the console tables lining the hallway. She picked up one of the amethyst crystals scattered across the tabletop. She turned the crystal around, examining every cut edge. “Your girl really loves purple, doesn’t she?”

She tossed the crystal. A piece broke off as it hit the hardwood floor.

Hugo couldn’t move, frozen in silence. His arm shimmied as he clenched his fists.

Sylvia tapped on his shoulders as she passed by into the living room. “Whoa,” Sylvia said as she discovered the various objects decorating the room. “I don’t know if I should be impressed or worried the two of you are becoming hoarders. There’s so much.”

She took in her surroundings. The red velvet couch. The black high-back leather chair. The gnarled fingers of purple, black, red, and white candle wax frozen in place as they dripped over the edge of the fireplace mantle. The bookshelves filled with various oddities and cherished memories.

She turned her attention back to Hugo. “Why don’t you join me in here? Come.” Sylvia smacked her thigh as one would to get the attention of a dog. “Sit in the middle of the couch.”

Hugo did as instructed, never taking his eyes off Sylvia. He traversed in silence as he maneuvered around her and took his place on the couch.

“Good pet.”

I’m going to stab her myself. So, help me. I’ll stab her.

Sylvia tapped her hands together as she surveyed the room. She stopped and brought them to the side of her face, leaning her chin on the back of her hand. “So many places to look. I don’t know where to begin. Don’t tell me yet. I love a good hunt.”

She stood in front of the fireplace mantle. Her eyes traced the gnarled finger like wax dripping over the edge of the mantle. The light of the candles burned bright as they awaited the oncoming darkness of night.

“Don’t answer, but I hope you know this is a fire hazard,” Sylvia said. Her fingers traced around bubbled wax drippings. “I mean, one little bump and this whole house could go up in flames.”

She flicked the candles off the mantle. Their flames extinguished in mid-air as they tumbled to the floor. They bounced off the ground a few times before rolling around to their final spots.

Sylvia smirked at Hugo. “A fire safety spell. Smart.” Sylvia stalked to her next target.

Sylvia stood in front of one of Alice’s many shelves, packed to the brim with books, macabre items, and covered in the winding vines of plants nestled on top. Sylvia pulled out a book and flipped through the pages. “A history of witches during the Middle Ages,” Sylvia read aloud. “Fascinating, but all a lie. They always leave out the parts of history they don’t want you to know. Like how witches nearly wiped out us vampires. All because they wanted to protect their precious humans. You may see it as protection. I see it as defiling the natural order of things.” She tossed the book over her shoulder.

Hugo clutched the seat cushion, his fist full of the red velvet material. Fire and malice in his eyes. He made the most of what little bodily control he had.

She turned to Hugo. She smiled a devilish, knowing grin. “You know, she could have easily hidden the scroll in one of these books, but I don’t think that’s her style. No, she’s far too intelligent to hide it there. But what if she hid it behind this bookcase?”

Sylvia grabbed the edge of the case and pulled it forward. The contents spilled all over the hardwood floors. The pottedplant shattered, sending dirt scattering with the pieces of dark green ceramic. There were no secret compartments in the bookcase or wall.

Sylvia raised her hands in the air and chuckled. “Oops. Guess I was wrong.”

Hugo’s fingers dug deeper into the cushion. He clenched his teeth. His arms shook.

Sylvia pouted her lips. “I hope my game of hide-and-seek isn’t making you upset. I don’t like it when my pets are upset.”

She dug her hands into her pocket and moved closer to Alice’s memory shrine. “What do we have here?”

She surveyed the old family pictures and heirlooms—the various crystals, flowers frozen in time, sets of keys, a quill, and the box containing Hugo’s wedding ring. Her hand hovered over each item, unsure of which item to pick up first. They lingered over the masterfully crafted wooden box, the picture of Elizabeth’s smiling face resting behind it.