Page 61 of Mardi Gras Murders & Midnight Masquerades
"It’s clear," Lucas whispered after a few seconds.
We murmured the counter spell, making my sisters and I shimmer back into visibility. "Let's move fast," I said as I immediately headed to the east wall where Payne's blueprints indicated the hidden entrance should be.
"Here," Noah said, running his fingers along a seam in the wood paneling. "There's a draft."
I placed my palm against the wall, feeling for any irregularities. The wood felt warm beneath my touch. Though I couldn't explain it, I sensed we were in the right place. Using my psychometry wouldn’t tell us much. The building had undergone too many renovations, which left countless new imprints. When I opened my magical senses I detected the same magical signature we'd encountered in Delacroix's other hideouts.
"This is it," I confirmed. "But there's no visible mechanism to open it."
Lia and Dre moved closer to examine the wall. "It’s got to be here somewhere. I can sense his magic. It’s faint, but there," Dre pointed out.
I nodded in agreement, having picked up the same thing. "There must be a trigger somewhere."
"Maybe it's like in the movies," Lia suggested. "Should we try pressing different spots?"
"Or," Dre countered as her eyes narrowed, "we could use a more direct approach." She flexed her fingers, and I felt her telekinesis probe the wall. She was searching for hidden catches or levers.
Wait," I cautioned, pressing my palm more firmly against the wood. "There's something..."
I closed my eyes and concentrated harder. The wood beneath my fingertips contained countless impressions. Most were fleeting touches from hotel staff, the curious press of guests' fingers over decades, maintenance workers' routine checks. I had to push past all these superficial imprints and focus deeper.
"What do you see?" Lia whispered.
"Too much," I murmured as I shook off the disorientation. "So many people have touched this wall over the years."
Layer by layer, I sifted through theimpressions. The cleaning staff dusting the paneling last week, a child running her fingers along it while waiting for her father last month, a maintenance worker checking for termites last year. I went deeper still, the carpenter who installed it, then to the original builders... Finally, beneath it all, I found something ancient and dark. It was a signature unlike the others.
"Got it," I breathed, my eyes flying open. "It's not mechanical. It's magical. The door responds to blood—specifically, Delacroix's blood."
"Well, that complicates things," Lia muttered. "It’s not exactly something we have on hand."
"Not necessarily," I said slowly, as an idea crystallized in my mind. "Delacroix has transferred his essence multiple times, but his magical signature remains consistent—like a fingerprint that follows him between bodies. What if we created a simulacrum of his blood?"
"A magical forgery?" Dre looked intrigued, her eyes lighting up with scholarly interest. "That could work, but we'd need something with his energy signature to copy—something he touched directly or infused with his magic."
"Like this?" Noah reached into his pocket and produced a small fragment of obsidian we'd collected from one of Delacroix's ritual sites. It pulsed faintly with his dark energy. It hadn’t been all that noticeable before. Now, it almost felt like a heartbeat.
The four of us exchanged glances. "It's worth a try," I decided.
Working quickly, we formed a tight circle around the stone. Lia placed it in the center of her palm and cupped her hands. She summoned her witch-fire. She conjured the gentle amber flame she used for delicate work. The stone began to glow within the cradle of her hands.
"Essence to essence, signature to sign," Dre murmured, her fingers tracing precise Fae runes in the air above thestone. Each symbol hung suspended for a moment before dissolving into the obsidian. "Reform, reshape, recreate."
I placed my hands over Lia's, combining my fire with hers. "From memory to matter," I whispered, channeling the clearest impression of Delacroix's magical signature I'd gleaned from the wall. I could feel the stone drinking in the pattern. It was reshaping itself on a fundamental level.
Kota added her energy to the mix. Her natural affinity for strength magic lent stability to the volatile spell. The stone seemed to pulse with renewed purpose at her touch. Dea and Phi whispered something that felt like a binding that would hold our creation together. Around us, the air grew heavy with our combined witchcraft.
When the stone had absorbed all our combined energies, it no longer looked like obsidian. Instead, it glistened wetly. It was dark red and viscous and was suspended between our hands like a droplet of blood that refused to fall.
"Now," I said, and Dre used her telekinesis to press it against the wall where I pointed to the trigger.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the wood panels shuddered violently, as if in recognition. A seam appeared where none had been visible before. It widened into a doorway that revealed a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
"Nice work," Lucas commented as he joined us. "We've got about ten minutes before someone notices we've been in here too long."
We descended the stairs in tight formation. Lucas and Noah insisted on going first. Their enhanced shifter senses were most useful in the near-total darkness. The air grew noticeably colder and staler with each step. It carried the musty scent of a long-undisturbed space.
"Everyone stop," Noah whispered suddenly. His arm shot out to block my path. "There'ssomething ahead."
