Page 56 of The Witch and The Blood Oath

From the way she had ran from me, she certainly considered me an enemy.

Desperate to capture the creature, I crossed the intersection without another second of hesitation. Cars zoomed past and tires screeched. Drivers barked curses at me, but music drifted from the mansion’s depths. I drew closer and spotted a black and white marble floor cast in the golden light of intricate chandeliers. Elegantly dressed dancers waltzed across it in perfect rhythm.

Was the chimera capable of crafting illusions?

Dark magic still thrummed in the air, despite the lovely scene.

Maybe the illusion is like the chimera herself,I thought.Lovely on the outside but dreadful on the inside.

There was only one way to find out.

In front of the mansion’s doorway, a chain and padlock pooled on the ground. I stepped over both and walked inside.

As the front door slammed shut, the spell broke, and chaos descended.

Chapter Seventeen

Freya

Raspy screams threatened to shatter my eardrums, and hot breath wafted against my neck. Shadows played tricks on my eyes. Dancers reveled, flames flickered, and tired silhouettes carried trays. They walked through walls and floated down the spiral staircase. Something was achingly familiar about the scene—it had been described to me in bedtime stories, cautionary texts, and campfire tales.

This wasn’t the strange woman’s illusion. She hadn’t needed a drop of magic to trap me. Instead, she had tricked me into the home of one of the most terrible, vile witches in all of history—she had led me to Madame LaLaurie’s mansion.

I stood in the home of a witch infamous for torturing her slaves in fruitless attempts to transform them into witches.

As I realized where I was and how foolish I had been, I created a shield of air, but it was not enough to protect me from the dark magic that thrummed like a bass and rattled mybones. I didn’t understand where the magic came from. Ghosts—not even the ghosts of former witches—did not hold onto their power.

The illusion crumbled, and darkness cloaked the room. I summoned a ball of flame and revealed a leering, pale-faced woman.

I screamed and backed away, and my back collided with a frigid but solid figure. As icy hands gripped my hips, I lurched forward. Twinkling laughter and dissonant magic filled the room. Anger pierced my fear.

I pointed toward the direction of the windows and whispered a Sunlight spell. The shadows receded, and light poured into the room. In front of me, a wispy young woman with heavy skirts and a rib-crushing corset lurched out of the direct light.

Her feet didn’t touch the ground.

“Excuse my daughters,” a deep but feminine voice drawled.

I steeled myself and fought to calm my ragged breaths.

“They’ve been eager for your visit,” the woman continued, “as have I.”

Madame Delphine LaLaurie chuckled darkly and emerged from the shadows.

As she stepped into the narrow mansion entryway, her illusion sprung back to life. The mansion’s light and revelry rekindled and became an even brighter backdrop to her dark spirit.

Madame LaLaurie’s brown hair was swept into an elegant updo. Though her face bore no make-up, it maintained a witch’s loveliness. Her full figure was cinched into the traditional garb of a nineteenth-century madame, but her full, cream skirts did not touch the ground. She levitated above it.

“Can’t say the same,” I said in a voice steadier than I felt.

She chuckled once more, and ghostly women stepped through the walls and lingered at Madame LaLaurie’s sides. They wore similar petticoats and fanciful curls, but youth softened their features. One of them grinned, and I recognized her as the witch who had startled me.

I tried to recall everything I had learned about Madame LaLaurie and her coven. Though I had enjoyed witch history enough, I had started hooking up with Ryder around the time we covered the southern witches, and it was possible I had been more than a little distracted.

Goddessdammit,I chided myself.Think.

“You can go ahead and ask,” Madame LaLaurie said, “how we’re still here—how we’ve managed to hold onto all ofthis.”

In response to her words, the dark magic swelled with the music of the illusion. The chandelier brightened, and Madame LaLaurie’s dark eyes glowed with power. Her four daughters remained stoic and silent, but their gazes tracked me with predatory glee. The walls of the narrow entryway closed in on me, and I forced my terror down with a swallow.

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