Elizabeth smiled. “You certainly are feeling bold, Mr. Radley. Not many men who enjoy living would dare speak to me in that manner.”
Mike laughed. “What’s the worst you can do? You tried to eat my soul, burn down my house, and kill me. I’m not sure how you are going to top that, unless you have another daughter who is better than the last one.”
“We will find a way, Mr. Radley. One day, we will take something from you, something that you love, and you will give everything to get it back from us.” The corner of her lip twitched.
“Until that day comes,” Mike replied, leaning over the railing, “get the fuck away from my house.”
Elizabeth stood there in silence, the sun beating down on her face. Mike watched in astonishment as her shadow shifted beneath her, multiple limbs reaching for the home but bending away as if repulsed.
“Do your best to enjoy your time on Earth,” Elizabeth said cryptically. “You no longer have much of it.” She spun around and took three steps away from the home, then vanished.
“Fuck.” Mike let out a loud breath. His hands shook as adrenaline raced through his body. He’d been afraid she would attack him and had hoped that his confidence would chase her off.
“Mean lady gone,” Tink announced, standing up from the bushes with her crossbow. Mike wasn’t sure when she had gotten there, but he was relieved to know that the goblin had his back. “Next time, Tink shoot her in the face.”
“Go for it,” Mike told her. “For now, let’s get this porch fixed.”
A warm breeze brushed the back of Daryl’s neck followed by the smell of a late summer day. He looked up from the book he had been reading to watch Elizabeth cross the Great Hall and take her seat at the table.
To the outside world, the Historical Preservation Society appeared to be a local charitable group interested in keeping the past alive through generous donations. In reality, they were a collection of some of the most powerful people on the planet, who were currently using the society to try to take possession of the newly acquired Radley estate and all the magical items within. The monsters that lived there were worth their weight in gold, but the magic the house was rumored to hold was even more valuable.
Several decades back, the society had encountered a man named Garrett who had told them an amazing tale of a veritable treasure trove of magical artifacts that had been sitting under their noses for over a century. In great detail, he had told them about powerful items lost to the annals of time, casually stored within its walls. Daryl and Sarah had both shared a peculiar interest in his description of a tome with an apple on the front. They had deduced that it must be the grimoire of Morgan le Faye, a book that would grant them access to the forbidden magic of Creation itself. For true witches and warlocks, knowledge was far more valuable than money, and they all wanted a piece of what the house had to offer. It had been decades since such a find had been made, and they had been ready to take it from Emily, the previous Caretaker.
In exchange for information on the house, they had taught Garrett to use magic, and he had left on a trip around the world, gathering a small collection of his own mythical beings. The magic from these creatures could usually be harnessed in one form or another, and he had rapidly grown in power and earned his seat at the table with the others.
Then the dumbass had tried to take the house for himself and gotten killed. The magic that protected the house kept anyone out unless they’d been invited inside by the Caretaker. Garrett could have helped them all gain entry with a special wand he had borrowed that had allowed him to control a former lover’s actions, but he had gotten greedy and tried to take everything for himself.
Daryl hoped his death had been painful.
Elizabeth sat down in the seat next to him. There were thirteen chairs total, and the chair on the other side of Elizabeth was the only empty one. It belonged to her daughter, Sarah, who had recently gone missing after attempting a similar assault on the Radley estate. She was presumed dead, but nobody knew for sure.
Including Daryl, only six members of the society were physically present. The other members were represented by shadow figures who sat in their assigned seats. The others were across the planet doing God only knew what. They all had their own projects, after all.
“Tell me what happened,” demanded the shadow at the head of the table. Unlike the other shadows, his eyes glowed like tiny stars and his voice came from all around them. Though the society didn’t have formal ranks, they often referred to their leader as the high priest.
It was a well-deserved title, because the man who held it was somehow powerful enough to astrally project without the main component necessary to do so: a soul.
Elizabeth took a moment to look around the room, making eye contact with everyone before speaking. When she reached Daryl, he winked. She was one of the few members who would even look him in the eyes ever since he had replaced them with the golden pupils of a powerful warlock who had betrayed the society. These eyes were far better than his old ones, able to see things beyond normal human perception.
“We made contact about ten days ago. This much we all know. The new owner, Mike Radley, is a nobody. Or rather, we thought
