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“Where in her cellar?”

“Behind a stone above her workbench.”

“Thank you,” she said as she stood up. “Wait right here. I’ll be back.” She winked at him and left the living room.

Hugo could hear her opening the basement door and descending the creaky steps.

What have I done? Forgive me, Alice.

His heart raced. Sweat ran down the back of his head. He wanted to move, to stop her, but the unseen force kept him frozen in place.

He still had control over his eyes, even though his body and headcouldn’t move. His worst fear was confirmed—the front door was closed. With the door shut and Alice’s key in the house, there would be no rescue coming. He was alone, at her mercy, and she knew it.

The ticking of the grandfather clock was excruciating. His heart sunk with each passing movement.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

She had been gone for what felt like an eternity. Thoughts raced through his mind as to what she was doing down there. What she could do. What she would do.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

His eyes shifted to his right. He could only see the shelves out of the corner of his eyes. He wanted nothing more than for Galahad to spring to life, fly down the stairs, and stab her in the heart. He poured his entire essence and soul into his wish.

Come on, buddy. I need you. Please. Do something.

The broomstick didn’t move.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The clacking of her high heels grew louder as Sylvia ascended the basement stairs. She entered the living room holding a bottle of wine with a disappointed expression on her face. She stood in the entryway and leaned against the door frame, tilting her head. She tapped the bottle with her fingers as she held it in her hand.

“I found her little hiding spot,” Sylvia said. “But it seems the little witch moved it. Apparently, she doesn’t even trust you with its secret hiding spot.”

Hugo tried to smile, but couldn’t.

“I did find this, though.” She held the bottle so Hugo could see the label:The Lovers’ Kiss Hugo & Alice. “Looks like you two actually made a batch. Did it work?”

Hugo resisted and remained silent.

“Answer me!” Sylvia shouted.

“Yes,” Hugo replied.

“Good.” She smiled and moved toward Hugo, placing the bottle on the coffee table.

Sylvia positioned her knees on the couch between Hugo’s legs and hands. She straddled him, sitting on his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her strawberry blonde hair tickled Hugo’s face as she moved her hips around to get a better position.

“You’re a lucky man, Hugo Dodds,” Sylvia said in a flirtatious voice. “Every time I think about taking your head off, I always come up with a reason to keep you alive . . . or undead, as it would be.” She laughed with villainous glee.

His head trembled with anger.

She leaned in closer, her breath washing over his lips. In a low, seductive voice, she said, “Does this excite you?”

“No,” he responded.

“It excites me. I do have to warn you, though. Sebastian can be a very jealous lover. If he should find you, I can’t imagine what he’d do to you. Maybe I’ll tell him. Maybe I won’t. How would Alice react? Would she be furious? Or . . . would she want to join in on the fun? You know, Sam spilled every little detail about their relationship to me. She was so helpful.”

Hugo’s whole body shook.