I shake my head. “You killed me! And I was—” Trying to talk to Ella’s spirit using the book he kicked toward me when he appeared in the middle of the summoning circle. My gaze falls to the grimoire on the floor, and a string connects the dots.
Oh.
“Fuck.”
No.No. I was just seeing things before I died. Like life-flashing-before-my-eyes bullshit. Not…
A shiver works down my spine, and I take another step back, trying to make myself as small as possible as I inch toward the exit. I glance at the door, debating whether or not to make a run for it.
If what he said is true, and if Ella’s book has anything to do with what’s happening, he’s here because of me. And if he’s here because I “summoned” him, then…
I fucked up.
“W—” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Who are you?”
My dead heart hammers in my chest as I study him. There’s something unnatural about him and the way he moves. How he glares down his nose at me. The slight menacing tilt in his chin. The way he seems to vibrate with energy when everything else is blurry and cold. How didn’t I notice before?
He narrows his eyes at me. “No, I think that’s not the question you want to ask.”
I can’t take these games. “Where did you come from? Why are you here?”What do you want with me?
It’s like the air around him sizzles with his rage, and Iswearthe shadows mold around him. I’m sure if I were a solid being, I’d feel the ground shake beneath my feet as he stalks forward.
“You’re wasting my time.” His growl rushes down my spine in a wave I can feel in the darkest depths of my soul. “You have one more chance to use that useless brain of yours before I decide to get creative in ensuring your death is more permanent.”
He… he can do that?
My knees threaten to give out from under me. I know what he’s expecting me to say. I know his answer isn’t what I’ll want to hear. I’ve never been superstitious, but I’ve watched enough TV to get the gist of the shitshow I’m in.
My mouth refuses to form the question, but I know one thing to be true.
He’s not human.
“What are you?” I ask, barely above a whisper.
Those blue eyes sharpen. “There it is.” His voice rattles the walls like a clap of thunder.
I flinch. Clamping down on the inside of my cheek, I will myself to show some semblance of strength. Be the unshakeable Eldrith I’m supposed to be—but I’m barely a fucking Eldrith anymore. I’m just traumatized and scrambling for a crumb of normality.
My entire life, I watched my parents walk all over people. The moment they saw any sign of weakness, they poked and prodded, manipulated and lied, until they got what they wanted.
Now Ella? She was an Eldrith. A good one with a heart. That was never me.
My family comes—or came—from old money. This manor was built by my great-greats. Way back when, they were one of the big names that ran this country. It stayed that way for centuries, and despite the industry they were known for, they opted to be recognized by a specific symbol.
Not wood, iron, coal, or oil—a key.
The message was simple: Eldriths hold the key to the universe. We hold the cards. We decide the game. No one moves unless we allow it.
At least, that’s how it used to be.
But with every generation that passed, our hands grew weaker until the house fell. Who’s to blame? The Feds for showing up, or my parents for screwing up?
Standing here in this waking nightmare, before thisthingthat is no man, I wonder how much further I can fall. The cracks already run deep. The foundations are disintegrating. If the roof falls over my head, this man will still be in front of me, and I’ll still be trapped here with him, and I’m sure he could do far worse than just break my neck.
Don’t show emotion. Show teeth,my mother used to say.
Or at least that’s what she used to say to Ella. She never gave me any words of wisdom unless she was berating me. I’ve never been able to separate feelings from my responses anyway.
