Page 106 of Terror Tuesday

What else can we end?

The foliage opens up, revealing an enormous stone structure that blocks out any light the moon can afford.

It was probably once a glorious mansion. Gothic.

And absolutely terrifying.

A three-tiered fountain in the front is a rubble of rocks. Part of the roof has sunken in on one wing and is completely gone in sections. Spires are missing iron spindles. And the glass is broken in most of the leaded windows.

The only evidence that this is the right place is a flickering yellow glow coming from somewhere deep inside. It’s calling me.

Calling mehome.

I feel overdressed in my pale pink satin off-the-shoulder cocktail dress and fancy overcoat. Strappy heels as high as my heart rate. And a sequined bag. Underneath is lacy white lingerie.

I’m dressed for an erotic evening with Elliot…

Not vengeful villainy with Valen.

But here I am. Standing at the threshold of a new path…the way of the queen.

A great creak interrupts the peaceful patter of rain as I lift the iron fox head door knocker and slam it down. It echoes into the bowels of the house beyond. There’s no answer, but the heavy mahogany door swings open on its own as if welcoming me inside.

Like it’s mine.

One tealight candle glows on the checkerboard floor, pieces of old marble tiles crunching beneath my steps. It leads to another down the long entry hall. Then another. At the end, two large sconces light up a doorway.

And when I approach, my breath is stolen from me.

Arched floor-to-ceiling windows look into an overgrown conservatory. Before that are lanterns with candles. Tall, golden candelabras. Dancing flames aglow, illuminating an arch of pink ranunculus and ivy that has crept in from the outside, hanging in swags from the ceiling.

Beneath the canopy of fragrant florals and flickering lights stands the man I once feared. Wearing an all-black suit and topped with his signature mask. I’m struck with awe at the beauty of the space and him.

The reality of it all settles in. I’m here…and IknowI made the right decision.

“I knew you’d come,” he says, voice smooth.

I pause ten feet from him and behold the sights. “I did.”

“Do you regret it?” he asks, a hint of vulnerability slipping through his still demeanor.

“My choice?”

Barely above a whisper, he answers, “Yes.”

I take a deep breath, and the smell of rain, autumn, and something like summer sunshine filters through me. It’s warm wherever he is, and I don’t know how he makes me feel like my heart is wrapped in a heated blanket.

Cautiously, I step closer to him and gather one of his gloved hands in mine. His gaze follows where I lace our fingers together, then press my other palm to his cheek.

“No. Not at all.”

“You don’t even know who I am,” he murmurs, and for once, his voice shakes.

“You think that matters?” If he’s suddenly concerned with what he looks like, I need to teach him a lesson. I step even closer. “You saw me when no one else did. Held me when I wanted to disappear.”

His fingers tighten around mine. “And still…when you see me, it might ruin everything.”

I shrug, swallowing roughly. “Then let it.”