Page 7 of An Invocation of Monsters

When I opened my eyes, there were two more people standing in front of me, a man and a woman.

I recognized them from the funeral. They looked exactly like they had then, only now they were wearing white.

The woman, Mary, held out her hand, smiling. “It’s so nice to finally see you here. We’ve waited for this day for so long.”

When I reached out to shake for what felt like the millionth time today, she gripped my wrist, her fingers like iron bands, and peeled off my glove.

I was so shocked by her audacity that I just stood there, frozen in place, as she laced her fingers through mine.

A long moment passed, and the woman exhaled, smiling even wider.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “It is long past time you arrived. Welcome home, Elle.”

3

Elle

All of the little sirens in the back of my head had gone from red alert to full-on shrieking klaxons, but Mary’s grip was almost unnaturally tight.

Her bird-boned fingers were laced in mine like a skeleton’s embrace, tight enough to turn my knuckles white.

“Thanks for the warm welcome, but I’ve never been here before,” I said, trying on a smile yet again. Like the one I’d worn for Kase, it felt like a mask. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to call this home yet. Or if my mother did.”

“Oh, she did.” Joseph stepped forward, and Mary finally released my hand. He had the grace to allow me to pull my glove back on before taking my hand in a grasp that was far more fish-like than Mary’s. “Have you ever read of Jung’s personas?”

“A little.”

Joseph smiled. Despite their thinness, both Mary and Joseph had wide, full-lipped mouths that seemed designed for smiles. “The persona—the mask we hide behind to conceal our true natures. Deepwater Lodge was the only place Gillian ever removed her mask. This was her home, where she could slip free of the persona you all knew.”

Discomfort was an almost tangible sensation worming its way through my stomach.

“The persona can be many things—a wife. A mother. A real estate agent.” Joseph’s pale blue eyes seemed to be searing through me. “But those were things she had to be for the sake of social propriety in your world. In this world, she was so much more.”

I hated that the things he said made sense, even as they tore apart the image I’d always carried of my mother.

Had I not given her enough credit? Was she more than I’d believed?

Or were these people just out of their fucking gourds?

“I look forward to seeing what happens when your persona finally slips,” he added, now giving me a smile that seemed more sly than welcoming. “You might find the person you become in this house suits you more than the face you wear now.”

Yeah, right. I’d spent years carefully curating myself to live as normal a life as possible.

Living in a lodge full of wackadoodles for a month wasn’t going to change that.

“Maybe so.” I hefted my duffel bag, which was starting to dig into my shoulder, and Kase jerked back into action.

“I’ll show her to Gillian’s quarters,” he said quickly. “She’d probably like to settle in and rest.”

Mary nodded, her palm pressed to her stomach.

“They’re her quarters now and will be referred to as such,” she said, in a tone of voice like the cat who got the cream. “I had Willow clean them for you before your arrival. I hope they’re to your liking, Elle.”

I wondered what I’d healed in her with that unauthorized touch. “I’m sure they will be. Thanks, Willow.”

At that point, I was just desperate to put distance between myself and the Society members while I got my bearings.

There was something about them that put me on edge, like taking a step only to find that you’d walked off a cliff and there was nothing but empty air beneath your foot.

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