I grab her hands. “Fel, yes. You have more compassion than anyone I know. When the time comes, you’ll be exactly what they need.” I duck down to meet her gaze. “Please.”
She sighs. “If you truly believe I’m the right choice.”
“I do.”
“You don’t have to make all the decisions today,” Sacha says. With the most pressing conflict of interest answered, I’m ready to face the sea of rattled witches waiting to pounce on me. A quiet knock sounds before the door is pressed open.
“Mémé, you’re stunning.” Dressed in a royal purple with her hair braided into a crown adorned with fresh fall flowers, she’s the Crone, eternal, wise, and powerful. Everything I pray to one day be.
“As are you. In you three, I see the future of our people, and quite frankly I’m relieved. We’re doing the best we can, but I think some things are past their expiration date. We need fresh blood with new ideas and new friendships. I don’t believe in coincidence. Your connection with Cristobal is a sign. There are going to be a lot of angry, confused, and disgusted people out there today. Do not let them affect you. They’re already sniffing around you, seeking weaknesses. Make sure they find none tonight.”
“Yes, Mémé.” Heavy lies the head who wears the crown. I’m becoming intimately familiar with the phrase. The choices that rest on you and shape so many more are of a substantial weight.
The ball is always held in nature. This year everyone pitched in with their magic to create a bubble that weather couldn’t penetrate. It’s a red carpet event held in the middle of a dense forest. The focus isn’t on fashion. It’s on power and the displays each family is due to give. Tonight, they’d be expecting a show. We plan to give it to them. The celebration gave us all a place to focus our attention, so we didn’t have to deal with Tante Odette’s death.
I lift my dress as I walk over to the large circle formed by the eldest among us. One last task and I can slip away. I’ve been questioned, propositioned, pandered to, and scoffed for the past three hours. This one last act to put on a show of a different kind. The circle awaits.
Inside, the four elements have been represented in a physical manifestation. I wave my hand, dousing the wall of fire, moving through the wall of wind, parting the wall of water, and making a door to enter through the wall of dirt. Inside the center of the circle, sealed off for the protection of others, I’m the spectacle.
Go big or go home. They want to see a spectacle. An act worthy of the heir apparent. I hold up my palms and tap into the power intensified by my bond with Cristobal. The green flame flickers to life. I raise my hand above my head and send it up into the sky, letting it explode like fireworks. Gasps and applause makes me curtsy. The brilliant bursts of green stand out against the night sky, lingering like a freeze frame before I turn them into drops of rain. Green daises spring forth from the ground. I burn them to ash with a green blaze.
I let the ashes drift into the sky, forming the name Esçhete. Slowly the names of my immediate family form below. It’s my final act for the evening. I turn in a slow circle, meeting the gazes of others. It’s rare to have a witch adapt in all four elements. With a wave of my hand, I open the circle and exit, ignoring the lip service. Fel and Sacha fall in line behind me, ready to help me transform for my next act.
***
The strategically placed double-sided tape is my best friend in a navy blue formal gown with a plunging deep V neckline in the front and back. A swirling silver star pattern and a shiny rhinestone belt accentuate my waist and add brightness to the dark color. A light in the darkness, Gil had said. My hair has been pulled back, in its naturally curly state, and black lipstick lines my lips. My eyes are lined with kohl, and my face is highlighted and contoured. The false lashes have been pulled out. I’m competing with inhuman beauty; a girl has to pull out all the tricks. Tonight is all about appearances.
I study myself in the ornate gold gilded circular mirror. I would call Cristobal’s style over the top if I didn’t understand he was simply bringing in a little bit of home with his Victorian designs. I turn to admire the large canopy bed with ornate carvings on the end and around the headboard. It’s a work of art. My things take up half his closet and wardrobe, and my personal items line his dresser. It looks right. I spend the majority of my time here. Slowly over the months, we’ve found a comfortable place.
The door opens, and he steps inside. I’m used to him in suits, but the hand-cut charcoal Italian tuxedo flatters his svelte frame, complements his coloring, and makes my belly do flips.
“You’re a vision.”
I smile. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He rushes in front of me. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“The damage I’m about to do.”
“To—” He bites my lip, and I gasp. His tongue pushes between my parted lips, and I’m lost. He lifts me up, setting me on the dresser as he pushes my skirts up around me. He scowls at the dress, and I know I must look like a blue cupcake. It’d be hilarious if he wasn’t massaging my thighs and making love to me with his mouth. I mewl, arching my back as I try to get closer despite the heavy volume of the material s
eparating us.
“How good are you at domestic spells?”
“Pretty good.”
He rips my dress, and I gasp as he pulls my body flush to his.
“Better.” He grasps my bottom, and I wrap my legs around him, rocking my hips. The friction makes us both gasp.
“Not like this.” He grips the back of my neck and rests our foreheads together. I fight back the tears of frustration. I’d curse his moral code, but it’s part of what I love about him. He pulls back, hovering as we breathe the same air. “I love you.”
I bite back a sob. “I love you, too.” I sniff as tears turn to laughter.
“That’s not how I planned to tell you that. You’ve always had an uncanny way of throwing me off kilter.”