The final lock gave way just as the witch launched another attack. The cage disappeared, and Sam tumbled forward, knocking Delilah backward as a spell sizzled overhead.
They rolled behind a massive candy bookcase as it began to dissolve from the magical backlash.
"This is not how I imagined this going," Sam said, still very naked and now pressed against Delilah in the narrow space.
"Really? Because unexpected nudity seems perfectly on brand for this investigation," Delilah replied, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Their eyes locked. Something electric passed between them—a current of magic and emotion that had been building since they first met.
Sam leaned forward, and Delilah met him halfway. Their lips connected, and rainbow-colored sparks literally erupted around them, dancing through the air like magical fireflies.
The kiss deepened, their magical energies harmonizing in perfect resonance. The entire mansion seemed to respond, walls becoming transparent for a moment, revealing intricate symbols etched throughout the structure—a massive ritual design connecting all the paired artifacts.
"The Collector's Symphony," Delilah whispered against Sam's lips as the pattern became clear. "You were right. It's not just about stealing magical items—it's about harvesting the energy of magical pairs. Now, we just have to figure out how to stop them."
14
Sam tugged at the collar of his borrowed shirt, grateful that Baba Yaga had conjured clothes for him, but less thrilled about her fashion sense. The paisley pattern seemed to shift and swirl when he wasn't looking directly at it.
"Is this... moving?" he asked, staring down at his chest.
"It's the traditional victory pattern," Baba Yaga replied, stirring an enormous pot of borsch that glowed faintly purple. "Changes with mood. Right now it says you're 'uncomfortable but alive.' Could be worse."
Her house had transformed itself for the occasion. The chicken legs were painted with glitter, and a massive disco ball hung from the ceiling, rotating lazily and casting fragments of light across the room. The furniture had rearranged itself into what appeared to be a 1970s conversation pit, complete with shag carpeting.
"I didn't know houses could be... festive," Sam muttered to Delilah, who sat beside him, their shoulders touching.
"Baba Yaga's house has more personality than most people I know," Delilah whispered back, her hand finding his under the table.
The contact sent a small jolt of magical energy between them, causing the nearby spoons to dance briefly across the table.
Mac smirked from across the room. "You two need to get that under control before you start shorting out electronics."
"Says the man who turns furry under stress," Baba Yaga commented, ladling borsch into mismatched bowls. "Here. Eat. It's good for magical recovery."
The soup steamed with an aroma that somehow reminded Sam of pine forests, winter nights, and his grandmother's kitchen all at once. He cautiously took a spoonful.
Heat exploded across his tongue, followed by flavors he couldn't begin to identify. His entire body tingled with renewed energy.
"??? ?????????????!" The words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them.
"What the hell?" he tried to say, but it came out as "??? ?? ?????"
Delilah burst into laughter, then covered her mouth in shock when her words emerged in perfect Russian. "???? ???!"
"Side effect," Baba Yaga said with a dismissive wave. "It'll wear off after the third bowl."
"Third bowl?" Sam exclaimed in Russian, horrified.
Zelda, who had been examining the magical cookware with professional interest, cautiously tasted her soup. "??? ?????, ??? ??????? ????," she said, then looked mortified.
Baba Yaga cackled. "It's also a truth serum component. Makes honest Russians of you all."
"About the transformation curse," Mac said, wisely setting his untouched soup aside. "How exactly did it break?"
Baba Yaga stirred her pot thoughtfully. "Transformation curse is simple reversal. Problem was with subject's inherent magic fighting my spell. Stubborn wolf, stubborn spell."
"So it wasn't... us?" Delilah asked, glancing at Sam.
