Two days had come and gone since Josephine and Sara crossed into the afterlife, and there was still work to be done, secrets to be untangled from the Belles’ twisted web. But first, Addison decided to step back, taking a short sabbatical from it all to reconnect with her family and herself. The stone Joan had offered was still where she’d left it, sitting at the bottom of a glass on a shelf in the red room. At first, she left it there thinking she’d use it when the time seemed right. Now her head was clear. Now she knew it wasn’t about a right time or a wrong one. It was about one thing and one thing only—the one thing she’d fought for years.
Fear.
Fear of what would happen when the stone was placed back where it belonged.
Fear of how it might change things.
Fear of the unknown.
What power did it hold?
What responsibility?
Unlocking the book’s hidden secrets, if it had hidden secrets, was much more than discovering the hidden magic it contained. It was about unwrapping another layer of Addison’s identity.
Two days ago, she hadn’t been ready.
Today she was.
Addison stood in front of the shelf, peering at the stone inside the glass. It seemed pure and harmless, nothing more than a delicate ornament waiting to be fashioned inside an exquisite piece of jewelry. Now, it would achieve so much more.
She reached for the glass, tipping the stone into the palm of her hand.
What secrets do you have to reveal, and how will I change after you do?
She had a theory, a partial answer to her own question.
There was good in her. Most days she could feel it, the light flowing beneath her skin. It was radiant and alive, full of vibrancy and energy.
There was also something else, something hidden beneath the light. A veil of darkness was attached to the cracks and crevices of Addison’s soul, to the few places the light failed to reach. The heaviness was something she’d felt ever since she was a child. She hadn’t dared speak of it because she didn’t know how. In the past, it had been something she herself couldn’t explain.
Until now.
Her inner beast wanted out.
She could feel it.
Feel its longing to rise from its lightless chamber and become alive.
It felt dangerous and heavy, as if someone’s hands were pressed against her chest, provoking her to anger.
Her mother’s blood wasn’t all that circulated within her. The blood of her father did too. And now she had to make a choice. She’d started to feel like a pawn in a much bigger game of tug of war, a game where everyone had an agenda, it seemed. Her grandmother. Her mother. Her father. Even Joan. The time had come for Addison to insert her own agenda, to fight for herself, for her own protection, and for the protection of her family.
Addison knelt in front of the book of enchantments, placing the stone where she believed it was meant to go. The cauldron sunk inside itself, molding around the stone until the stone was imbedded within it, and then the book ignited, filling the room with a brilliant ray of red.
Addison placed her hand in the book’s center. A surge of energy flowed through her arm and into her body until her entire frame was alight. It lifted her off the ground, suspending her in midair. She raised her arm, staring through her translucent skin as centuries of knowledge passed down through generations of necromancers penetrated her mind.
She was no longer one.
She was all of them.
The glow began to fade, and Addison floated to the ground, coming to rest on the rug beneath her. Fatigued and drained, she rolled onto her side and surrendered to sleep. Some time later, she awakened to a faint, melodic whisper of someone calling her name. Her eyes opened, coming to rest on a freckled woman with long, scarlet-colored hair wearing a velvet, emerald, floor-length dress.
Addison pushed herself to a sitting position and said, “Who are you? What are you doing in my house?”
The woman smiled. “You know who I am, Addison. You invited me here.”
“You’re Sybil, aren’t you? Sybil Waterhouse.”
Sybil nodded.
“I didn’t invite you,” Addison said.
Sybil slipped a ring off her finger and walked over to Addison, sliding it onto her pinkie. The ring looked centuries old and was made of brass, with a red stone in the center. Addison glanced at the book’s cover. The stone was gone.
“Is this stone the same one I just ...” Addison began. “Did you ...?”
Sybil reached for the book. The moment her hand touched it the book ceased to exist.
“What are you doing?” Addison asked. “Where has it gone? I need it.”
Sybil shook her head. “You don’t. Not anymore. You are the book, and the book is you. Can’t you feel it, all the generations of your ancestors within you?”
She did feel different.
Changed.
Herself, but not herself at the same time.
“You are the woman you were before, but now you’re elevated,” Sybil said. “You can see and do things you only imagined doing before.”
“Why is this happening? What do you want from me?”
Sybil turned a hand upward. “Nothing.”
“You must. Everyone wants something from me. Why would you be any different?”
“It’s not for me to say what you do with the gift I just bestowed upon you. It is for you to decide.”
“Why me? Why now?”
Sybil crossed the room, trailing a finger across a few adornments on a shelf. She wrapped a hand around an empty bottle. “You know what this needs?”
Sybil pulled the empty bottle off the shelf, and it filled with wine. She turned her palm up, circling it in front of her, and a goblet appeared. She poured some wine into it and focused back on Addison.
“You look like me, and you act like me, except you seem a lot more uptight,” Sybil said. “You worry too much.”
Addison didn’t agree but said nothing.
“You asked me what makes you different than everyone else, and why I chose to restore the stone after all this time,” Sybil said. “My answer is simple—everything about you is different, and because you’re worthy.”
“Why didn’t I know about the stone until now?”
“Some time ago, I gave it to Joan. Well, I didn’t give it to her. I left it with her, knowing she would give it away again when the time was right.”
“Why make Joan responsible? If it’s yours, why not decide yourself?”
“I did that once. I allowed the book and the stone to pass from generation to generation until it was bestowed on Grace Sherwood. She was brought up right, but in the end, she decided to use the power she’d been given for her own personal gain. I stepped in and stripped her of it. Afterward, I had reservations about it going to one of my kin again. Joan has had it in her possession for almost three hundred years. She chose you because you’re deserving of it. You are ready, Addison. You just need to believe it.”
Addison walked to the sofa and sat down, burying her head in her hands. “This past week has been one revelation after the other. I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“Why? Because you discovered you have another father?”
“Samael is not just another father. He’s a warlock, isn’t he?”
“What if he is? Does it make him evil?”
“Doesn’t it?” Addison asked.
“A warlock is a title. Samael is many things, and you would be wise to keep your distance, for now. Hone your newfound power before you decide to meet.”
“Why?”
Sybil polished off her wine, flicked her hand, and the goblet vanished. “I want you to remove the idea of good and evil from your thoughts. You’ve sent worthy souls into the light, and because of it, the unworthy were cast into darkness. It was you who made those decisions, you who decided where they belonged, even if you didn’t put them there.”
“I have only directed worthy souls to the places they’re meant to go.”
“You did more than that. You kept the balance. You label yourself a good person because it’s easier for you. It would be wiser to see yourself as you are.”
“Who am I?”
“You’re fate, the judge, the final decision. And so is your brother.”
“My brother is the raven. Joan warned me about him.”
“No, my dear. He’s not. He’s the son of the raven. He has his blood, as do you. Your given name, the one your father bestowed upon you, was Ravenna. Your mother changed it. Addison is a biblical name. It means ‘of the earth.’ It’s derived from Adam, meaning ‘life.’”
It should have been impossible to take in, impossible to accept, but somehow Sybil’s words filled her with peace. Today, for the first time, the half she’d been missing all her life had become whole.
“How do I use the power I’ve been given?” Addison asked. “How will I know what to do?”
“Imagine what you want. See it. Manifest what you need, and it will be given to you.” She walked to Addison and bent down, taking her hand. “You will achieve great things, and I will always be here if you need me, just like I was the other night at Belle Manor. Now, I must go, and I believe you have unfinished business which needs your attention. You are the judge and jury now, Addison, for all. Wield your power and be afraid no longer.”