Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The train swayed lightly as it slid along the tracks. Even so, I held Señor Scratchy tight against my chest as if he were a life jacket. The bunny was doing great, completely zen, staring at Westview’s pale scenery through the window with a “wathever” look. Whick, acoording to my therapist, was a good sign. She suggested an emotional support animal, and that’s how the rodent came into my life. The idead was that he would help me stay calm, but who was really supporting whose emotions was still an open debate.  

Being divorced at forty-two and moving to a town I barely remembered visiting wasn’t exactly my life plans. But here I was. The decision came through a series of coincidences. It started when I caught my ex-husband Ralph with his mouth between his assistant legs. I’d suspected for years, but I had ignored the little devil in my ear whispering paranoias. Until one day I saw it with my own eyes. The there was no doubt. I filed for divorce and kicked that jerk’s ass.  

I could have stayed in New York, fought for the house, the proporties, maybe even our expensive wine collection, but then came another coincidence. The sudden death of my great-aunt Lilia. Okay, maybe “sudden” isn’t the right word. She’d been old since I was a child. Same face, same smoky voice, same witchy aura. She lived isolated in Westview, in a house that seemed cursed.  

Lilia was always peculiar. She had some ideas a little off-kilter. For years, she kept saying that our family descended from a coven of witches going back to Salem time, that I was next in the lineage, that I need to learn the rituals before it was too late. I thought it was all a big load of nonsense. But, I admit, it did influenced me to become a horror-book writer. I took my aunt’s rant, put them on a page and boom, two bestsellers on my resume.  

In the end, maybe I should thank her.  

Or apologize.  

I haven’t decided yet.  

When the will came out, two things caught my attetion. The first was a handwritten letter from my aunt, addressed especially to me. The second was the deed to her house, transferred to my name. Lilia never had many possessions, but I knew that house meant everything to her. It wasn’t just an old building, it was the private temple of all her eccentricities.  

I twirled the letter between my finger for the umpteenth time. The paper was already crupled from how much I’d read it, but my eyes ran over those strange words again.  

“My dear Agatha,  

If you’re reading this, it’s because the inevitable has happened and death has finally taken me, as it takes us all. Even after centuries of outsmarting her, it didn’t give up and, in the end, dragged me to the next great adventure. The months following my death will be crucial for the survival of this plane of existance. I tried teach you while alive, but, like every good Harkness, you’re stubborn as a door. Now you’ll have to learn the hard way. Go back to the house. Redo the runes while there’s still time. Protect this plane of existance. Don’t let evil slip throught those walls.  

And, please... TAKE CARE OF THAT DEPRESSED CREATURE IN THE BASEMENT!!!!”  

I rolled my eyes. Another show of my aunt’s craziness. “Centuries”? “Protect this plane os existance”? And whats exactly did she mean by “depressed creatured”? Judging by the shaky handwritten and all the drama, she’d probably downed an entire bottle of wine before sitting down to write, and it looked like she wrote the letter straight out of a mystical breakdown.  

Even so, it was the only thing I had left of her. Despite everything else, it made sense to accept it. An isolated house in the middle of nowhere, in a quiet town where no one knew my history was exactly what I needed. My agent had been pestering me for six months to write the third book of the saga, but since the divorce I could barely type a decent sentence. The combinantion of betrayal and the noise from New York had pushed me straight into the worst creative block of my life.  

Westview with its silence and its smell of grass promised something I hadn’t seen in a long time: a fresh start.  

The train stopped with a jolt, yaking me out of my throughts. I looked out the window and confirmed on the sign that I had reache my destination. Scratchy made a low noise and leapt from my lap into the carrier. I checked that he was secure, closed the little door, and pulled my suitcase. That was all I had brought. One piece of luggage and a bunny. The rest of the move would come during the week. First, I needed to see the state of the house. I was almost sure I’d fine some post-apocalyptic scene waiting for me.  

I was about to step off the train whe my foot snagged on the step and I nearly tumbled onto the tracks, but a pair of strong arm caught my waist and set me on my feet before I starred in a fall. I look up and came face-to-face with a man with a clean-cut beard, cropped hair and a leather jacket. Weird, considering it was the middle of the day and the sun was high.  

His hands were still on my waist.  

And yes, he was very handsome. But at that moment, it was the last of my interests.  

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice was deep.  

I averted my eyes, adjusted the suitcase and checked Scratchy. The bunny now seen shaken, jumping in his carrier.  

“All good”, I answered curtly, moving his hands off my waist. Handsome or not, saving someone from a fall doens’t give a free pass to keep touching.  

“Bucky Barnes,” he introduced himself. I saw he was also carrying a suitcase. “And you?”  

“Agatha Harkness.”  

I stepped away and began walking down the platform toward the exit. One would have tought he would go his own way, but no. This Bucky guy still came after me.  

“New in town?” he asked, trying to keep up. “I just moved too, I’m still looking for a place to stay.”  

I let out a tired sigh. After five hours on a train and a near-deadly fall, all I wanted was silence. A hot bath. A decent roof. Preferably without questions from strangers.  

“I’m new in town,” I answered shortly, hoping he’d get the message.  

Reaching the sidewalk, I waved at a taxi nearby. When the car pulled up, Bucky still tried to keep the conversation going.  

“Staying at the hotel downtown?”  

“No,” I replied with a polite and completely fake smile. Before he could even try to be helpful, I lifted my own suitcase and placed in the trunk. “Excuse me, I’m in a hurry.”  

I got into the taxi and shut the door before he say anything else. I put Scratchy at my side, and the driver pulled away without wasting time. The stranger was left behing, and with him went that uncomfortable feeling that settled in as soon as I saw him.  

Westview was like every smalltown. Calm streets, local shops, and little old ladies sitting in front oh houses as if they were always on watch. You could feel that everyone knew each other by name and by entire life. My aunt’s house was farther away, almost on the edge of town, where a few isolated farms appeared.  

When the car finally stopped in front of the dark, slightly decaying structure, I knew right away this was my new home.  

The driver cut the egnine, pulled out my suitcase with discreet haste, and went back to the car almost running. In seconds, he dissappeared down the road.  

I stood still, staring at the house. Two stories, large windows, a tall roof, and some turrets on top that gave it a gothic castle vibe. There was definitely an attic somewhere up there. The property was huge. You could spend days exploring without repeating a path. The nearest neighbor was far enough not to hear a scream. Perfect setting to write a novel or hide a body.  

I laugheg to myself. As if anything bad would happen in this godforsaken place. 

I dragged the suitcase and Scracthy’s carrier up the steps leading to the porch. The wood creaked under my fett, and the whole structure seemed to need a good renovation or, at the very least, an exorcism. I took the key from my pocket, fit it into the lock and turned. Another creak and the door open.  

Great. A full-on cliché. Maybe it’ll help with the next book.  

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. The house was silent, it smelled like something old and forgotten. Apparently, technology had never been my aunt’s priority. The living room had dark wooden forniture, faded velvet armchairs, frayed curtains and, in the corner, a prehistoric tube television. Lilia clearly couldn’t have cared less about keeping up with the times.  

I opened the little door of the carrier and Scratchy jumped out, curious, sniffing the floor. I crouched and stroked his soft fur.  

“I think we’ll be very happy here.”  

The next second, a shiver ran down my neck. My ears swore they’d caught a muffled grumble coming from some corner of the house. I froze for a moment, trying to hear it again.  

Nothing.  

I shook my head. Nice, Agatha. Already freaking out in the first minute. The place is old, not haunted.  

I left Scratchy exploring the living room and began my own tour. I went room by room. The kitchen was big and surprisingly functional, with a wonderful industrial stove. I burst out laughing when I saw a giant stainless steel cauldron resting on the counter just waiting for the next potion.  

At the entrance of each room, I noticed small symbols carved into the walls. Arcane drawings, something you only see in spell books. If that kind of thing was real.  

“What the hell were you doing here, Auntie?”  

The first floor also had a generous pantry, a huge dining room with a tablet that could seat about twelvy people, an office with walls lined with shelves and an old mahogany desk covered by a generous layer of dust. Nothing a good cleaning would’t fix. That would be my new writing nook. Maybe the only place in the house that didn’t seem to want to devour me.  

I climbed the staircase, which seemed to have twice as many steps as necessary. The second floor was spacious and consisted of four bedroom aligned along the hallway. On the walls, more of those strange symbols appeared carved at the entrance of every door.  

The first three bedrooms were covered with the basics. Made beds, empty wardobres, one or two blanckets folded at the foot of the bed. All clean, silent, and looking like no one had been there for years.  

The last bedroom, at the far south of the house, was on another leve. It was large enough to be called a suite and it had its own bathroom, complete with a porcelain clawfoot tub, The bed was a canopy, with worn curtains and a mattress that sagged just from looking at it. In the closet, colorful scarves, floral dresses and heavy coats filled every corner.  

Lilia had an awful sense of style.  

The huge window overlooked the back of the house, and there, for the first time that day, something truly surprised me. The yard was enormous. I could easily put in a pool, build a deck, raise chickens, whatever I wanted. Further back, almost at the edge of the forest behind the property, a perfectly maintained garden bloomed with an absurd intensity for someone who had died two months ago.  

Azaleas, lilies, orchids, even roses. All bursting in a spectacle of colors. I wondered who, in Westview, was bothering to keep that garden alive.  

A dry sound pulled me out of my contemplation. Something had fallen dowsntairs. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer that Scratchy hadn’t gone after a rat. The last thing I needed was an infestation.  

I hurried down the stair, skipping two steps at a time. When one of them creaked under my foot and threatened to give way, I slipped out of reflex and grabbed the handrail.  

No handsome guy to catch me now. Just me, my questionable coordination and a house with treacherous steps.  

My bunny wasn’t in the living room, nor in the kitchen, much less in the office. A new noise caught my attetion, coming from the end of the hallway that connected the rooms. Only them I notice a small door ajar there, almost camouflaged by the wall. The wood was worn at the edges.  

I pushed slowly. The door also creaked loudly. So far, everything in that house made noise. I was going to have to get used to it.  

Behing the door, a narrow staircase went down to what could only be the basemente. The memory of my aunt’s letter came back full force.  

“Take care of that depressed creature in the basement!!!!”  

That could only be a joke.  

I pulled the phone from my pocket and turned the flashlight. At the bottom of the stairs, Scratchy stood still, nose pressed against the crack of an iron door, sniffing the air.  

“Come back here,” I whispered, whitout even knowing why. I was the only person in that house.  

Scratchy didn’t even bother to look at me. He kept sniffing, insistent, body tense, focused on something on the other side of the door.  

“Fuck’s sake,” I muttered, starting down the stair with more caution than courage.  

I picked up the bunny and turned to go back up, but then I heard a muffled rustle from the other side of the door. As if something, or someone, had moved. 

I froze.  

The sound was brief, but enough to chill my spine. I stared at the iron door. It was old, heavy, with thick hinges and and unfriendly appearance. I moved closer, shining the flashlight better. Soon I noticed the symbols engraved around the frame. Small. Detailed. Identical to the ones I’d seen in the rest of the house. 

Of course. My aunt was decorating even the basement door.  

I tried turning the handle, but it was stuck. Or, if I let my imagination run wild, it felt like something on the other side was pressing to keep it closed.  

But that was ridiculous. There was nothing there.  

Right?  

I tried again, unsuccessfully. The door didn’t budge. I took a deep breath, shrugged my shoulders, trying to shake of the feeling I was being watched.  

I went back up the stair as fast as I could without tripping over myself.  

It’s just an old house.  

That’s all. 

Chapter Text

My first night in that decrepit house was pure paradise, thank you very much. Waking up at three in the morning to a sharp noise coming from the kitchen? Wonderful. Of course I didn’t jump out of bed, terrified, just to find the window (which I was absolutely sure I’d closed before going to sleep) wide open, with the wind blowing at the curtains and casting a sinister sillhouette right next to the cauldron.  

And yes, it was just a shadow caused by the movement of the curtains. Because I refuse to believe it was anything else. Period.  

The next morning, I decided to explore Westview’s downtown. Small towns always have someone who knows someone who heard something from someone else who swears they saw weird stuff happening in other people’s backyeard. Maybe I could found out what my aunt had been up to.  

Besides, I needed to pick up some basic while I waited for the rest of my things to arrive.  

My first stop was the town market, where I bought a bit of everything to fill my fridge. When I passed by the butcher’s counter, the mande behind it leaned forward and eyed me curiously.  

“Hey, uou’re the Harknees girl, aren’t you?”  

Nobody had called mt that in years. The only one who ever did was my aunt, back when I’d spent a few days in Westview. My mom hated the house, so we always stayed at the hotel downtown, and Aunt Lilia would take me for icecream at the square. That’s when she’d inevitably start telling me I was behind my studies, as if I had a witchcraft exam scheduled for Monday.  

“No one’s called me that in a long time,” I replied, trying to recognize his face. “How did you remember me?”  

He let out a loud laugh.  

“You’ve got the same mystical aura as your aunt,” he said with a grin. “A little crazy, with all that tarot talk, swearing she could tell people’s future, but she was a good person. I’m sorry for your loss.”  

“Thanks,” I said sincerely. “Did you know her well?”  

“As well as anyone around here. I always set aside the best cuts for her.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “ But the one who really knew Lilia was Sarah. They were always together, whipesring like they had to many secrets. She works at the hospital as a nurse.”  

I stayed quiet for a few seconds. I was already wandering around anyway. No harm in stopping by the hospital to talk with this Sarah. 

“Thanks for the tip.” I grabbed my order and left the butcher’s.  

Besides the basic, I ended in the home section and bought new curtains, a soft lilic shade. I couldn’t stand looking at the old greenish ones in the living room anymore. They looked damp even in the sunlight.  

As I left the market , I bumped into someone in the parking lot and nearly jumped until I recognized his face.  

It was the guy from the train station.  

“Harkness,” Bucky said with a smile. “Twice in two days. What’s that? Fate?”  

I let out a short, sarcastic laugh.  

“Definitely not fate,” I said, stepping aside. “I don’t believe in that stuff.”  

“Really? That skeptical?”  

I nudged the sidewalk with my shoe, impatient.  

“Just a bit.” I lifted my bags so he’d see I wasn’t out for fun. “I’m in a hurry. No time for small talk.”  

I started walking and he fell into step beside me.  

“Always in a hurry, huh, Agatha?”  

“I’m a busy woman,” I pulled my phone from my pocket and open the Uber app. “Do you know which way to the hospital?”  

“Are you sick?”  

I looked up at him, not even hiding my boredom.  

“No. There’s someone there I need to talk to.”  

“I thought you were new in town,” Bucky said with a smirk.  

I narrowed my eyes at him.  

“You’re pretty nosy, you know that?”  

“And is that osmething you like?”  

God, he was persistente. Did I really need to draw him a diagram that I wasn’t interested?  

My phone buzzed with the Uber notification.  

“My car’s here, excuse me,” I step into the street, and he followed my again.  

“So, I’m still looking for work around here,” he said, tryind to sound casual. “ I do a bit of everything. If you need any repairs in that old house of yours...”  

I stopped short and whipped my head toward him.  

“How do you know where I live?”  

Bucky froze, his moutgh opening and shutin slowly.  

“Uh... Small town, you know how it is... people talk...”  

“And they talked about me?” I raised an eyebrown.  

“You’re kind of the talk of the town.”  

I felt my face heat up, but kept it neutral. If they were gossiping about me, let them gossip. I had bigger problems.  

“You’re at the downtown hotel, right? I know where it is,” I said, putting my bags in the trunk of the Uber car. “If I need anything, I’ll find you there.”  

I didn’t wait for an answer again, as I got in the car and left the man sanding on the sidewalk for the second time.  

Luckily, the driver was local and knew where the hospital was. I arrived without a hitch and now I was sat in the waiting area for that Sarah woman to show up.  

A few minutes later, a tall blonde with blue eyes approched me. She was mcuh younger and much prettier than I’d expected. Closer to my age than my aunt’s. If my love life weren’t a wreck, I might even have risked inviting her for coffe.  

“Agatha?” she asked with a warm smile. “Lilia told me so mcuh about you!”  

I stood to greet her, but before I could say anything she pulled me into a tight hug. Out of nowhere. What was with the people of this town? Never heard of boundaries?  

I hugged her back out of sheer politeness and quickly pulled away. 

“And you must be Sarah.” 

“Yes, yes!” She smoothed my arm affectionately, and I, just as politely, removed her hand. “Ah, I’m so sorry about Lilia.” 

It had to be the twenty-fifth time that morning I’d heard that. 

“Right,” I muttered awkwardly. “Actually, I wanted to ask you a few questions about my aunt.” 

Sarah glanced around as if checking for eavesdroppers. Without a word, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me down a hallway to a deserted area far from reception. 

“You’re here to renew the deal?” she whispered.  

I just stared at her, confused. What deal? What could a nurse possibly have to do with some mysterious arrangement with my aunt? 

“The deal... of course.” I forced a smile, trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about. “And you...” 

“Oh, the price is the same, don’t worry,” she said with a conspiratorial wink. “Five hundred dollars per blood bag.” 

My eyes went wide before I could stop them. Blood bags? Five hundred dollars? What was this lunatic talking about? Had someone spiked my breakfast? 

Apparently my horrified expression was enough for her to place a hand on my shoulder, looking concerned. I had to lean against the wall to keep from collapsing. My legs felt like jelly. 

“You okay, honey?” 

“Uh-huh.” I took a deep breath, trying to seem steady. “Just... felt a little off. Think I ate something weird.” 

“Poor thing.” Sarah touched my forehead, checking my temperature. “Lilia always made an herbal mix for that. Worked instantly. But of course, you must know all about it.” 

“O-of course... I do,” I stammered. “I... need to go now.” 

I turned and walked quickly back toward the reception, trying to keep my steps firm while my head spun. 

Behind me, her voice echoed brightly down the corridor.  

“I’ll have everything ready for Sunday night! Meet me under the bridge at the end of the road!” 

I had no idea where that was, but every cell in my body screamed that I absolutely didn’t want to find out.  

I got home sore and with an even sorer head. My mind was a disaster, spinning with a thousand hypotheses. All absurd, of course. I tried to cling to logic, to reason, anything to help me understand why on earth my aunt would need blood bags, what those weird symbols carved into the walls meant, and, most of all, why the damn basement door was open when I’d left it closed before going out. 

“Scratchy!” I shouted as I headed down the small staircase to the basement. “If you’re down there again, I swear I’m turning you into a scarf!” 

And there he was. Sniffing around like a tiny detective right in front of the iron door. I scooped the bunny up, but before heading back upstairs I paused, listening. I tried to catch any sound from the other side of the door. A creak, a breath, a step out of place. 

Nothing. Total silence. 

Even so, my body seemed to know something my mind still denied. I clutched Scratchy to my chest and went back up, locking the wooden door with two turns of the key, just in case. Then I checked the handle again. 

The rest of the day was a battle between cleaning and my sanity. I forced myself to focus on the cleaning products, but it was hard to ignore my peripheral vision playing tricks on me. Every time I left one room and entered another, I swore I saw someone darting past just enough to make me look. 

I knew what this was. I’d read about fear-induced hypervigilance somewhere. The brain starts filling in the blanks with things that aren’t there, like it’s saying: since you’re expecting a ghost, here’s a fake scare just in case. Thank you so much, anxious mind.  

By nightfall, I finally got rid of those greenish curtains and hung the new ones. After all the dust and a few furniture tweaks, the house was even starting to feel like a home. 

“Ugly curtains...”  

My neck cracked as I turned too quickly. The hairs at the back of my head stood on end. That raspy, feminine voice wasn’t mine, I was sure of it. But when I looked back, the hallway was empty. 

I wasn’t the only one on alert. Scratchy, lying on the arm of the sofa, had his ears perked and was staring at the same narrow hallway that led to the basement. 

He’d heard it too, hadn’t he? 

I took a deep breath, trying to rationalize. I was tired. I was jumpy. That was all. 

What I needed was a bath. Simple. A long, hot bath with those scented salts I’d bought at the town market. That would wash off this clinging exhaustion and this strange feeling that hadn’t left me all day. 

I took Scratchy upstairs with me. I didn’t want to leave him alone for even a second. If anything happened to him, I’d never forgive myself. 

But nothing’s going to happen, Agatha, I told myself. You’re alone. It’s just the memory of your crazy aunt still haunting your head.  

I filled the tub with hot water and poured in the lavender and rose salts. Soon steam curled up the walls, making the bathroom cozy. I left my phone on the counter playing a random playlist, and in seconds Kate Bush’s voice filled the space. 

I folded my clothes neatly beside the sink and slipped into the hot water. My muscles relaxed, my mind slowed. I closed my eyes and hummed along with the music. It was the first time since arriving that I felt a shred of peace. 

Exhaustion won. At some point, I dozed off right there. 

When I opened my eyes again, the water was cold and the atmosphere different. The music had stopped. The lavender scent that had filled the bathroom was now barely there. The silence was strange. 

I looked at the counter. My phone was gone. 

I got out of the tub and wrapped myself in the robe as fast as I could. Hair dripping, I walked through the bedroom and into the hallway. As soon as I stepped onto the first stair, I heard music coming from downstairs. 

It was Avril Lavigne. “Complicated,” to be exact. 

Great. Now, on top of everything, I’d apparently become an emo sleepwalker. 

I went down carefully, each step creaking louder than it should. When I reached the living room, I found Scratchy sitting right next to my phone. 

The screen was cracked and the music still played softly. But that wasn’t the worst part. 

The door leadind to the basement stair was open.  

I stopped where I was, heart pounding. I had locked that door. I had. I remembered turning the key twice. Or did I? 

I looked at the doorknob. My head was foggy. Doubt throbbed. 

Almost sure. Almost. 

“Did you drag my phone over here, you dumb bunny?” I muttered in fake scolding. 

I shut the basement door harder than necessary, scooped Scratchy up in one arm and grabbed my cracked phone with the other. I went straight back to the bedroom, trying not to look over my shoulder more than once. 

Everything was fine. Hypervigilance. Imagination. Coincidences. 

I pulled on comfortable pajamas and slid under the fresh sheets. Scratchy nestled beside me, his head on the pillow like he was exhausted too. The canopy bed was surprisingly comfortable.  

Sleep came quickly again. For the first time since I’d arrived, I drifted off without nightmares, without strange noises, without paranoia. 

Peace. 

Until it wasn’t. 

I felt a weight on my chest. Much heavier than Scratchy’s light body. I tried to open my eyes but could only manage to half-open them. My vision was blurred, but I could still make out the canopy above and the thin curtains falling around it. 

And I saw her. 

A woman. Dark, straight hair falling over her shoulders. Eyes intense and reddish, piercing me. Her hair framed her face in an almost hypnotic way. And she was on top of me. 

Literally. 

Her body pressed into mine, her firm thighs pinning my arms, trapping me to the mattress like I was part of it. I felt helpless, paralyzed. All I could do was stare at her as she leaned closer. 

Her breath was sweet, but there was something metallic in the air. 

“Did you bring my blood bags?” 

Her voice was soft. Calm. Almost gentle. And yet it was the scariest thing I’d ever heard. 

Chapter Text

“I promise, ma’am. There’s no one in your house,” said the police officer, his voice dragging.  

I frowned, unconvinced by the lazy inspection he’d done of the property. Is was three in the morning, and I’d practically had to yell on the phone for someone from the police station to finally show up. And what did they send me? A cop who looked like he’d been dragged out os a nap in his car.  

He wasn’t doing a very good job of “serve and protect.”  

Because protected, I was not. Not even a little.  

When I woke up with that thing on top of me, a pale woman with sunken eyes about to devour me, I could only think of two options: either it was some dumb prank on the new girl in town, or someone had broken into my house.  

But it was quick. Too quick. Two seconds and she was gone. Evaporated. Left no trace.  

No broken doors. No open windows. Everything locked, except the damn basement door which, aparently, had decided locking was no longers its job. Other than that, everything looked normal.  

“Are you sure it wasn’t your imagination?” he asked, condescendingly. “My cousin’s a psychologist, she says there’s this thing called sleep paraly...”  

“What?!” I cut him off, outraged. Now I was oficially the town lunatic, just like my aunt.  

“It’s... It’s... sleep paralysis,” he stammered. “She says it freezes your body and gives you this realistic hallucinations.”  

“I know what sleep paralysis is!” I growled, already losing my patience.  

He scratched his head, visibly embarassed for not having a better explanation.  

“Look, ma’am... I checked everything twice. There’s no one here. No sign of break-in. It’s just you. I can pass along an alert with the description of the... person... you saw, but honestly, I don’t think we’re going to find anything.”  

“Do it!” I replied as I pushed him out the door. “And thanks for absolutely nothing!”  

I slammed the door in the cop’s face and went back to the living room, where Scratchy was sprawled on the couch as if nothing had happened. As soon as I came close, he nudged his head against my hand demanding affection. I obliged without thinkingm sinking my fingers into his soft fur.  

Meanwhile, the rational side of my brain was starting to stir. Maybe the cop was right. Maybe it had just been sleep paralysis. Wouln’t be the first time. When I was married, it happened frequently. No demons, no mysterious vampires. Just me, a writer with creative clock and a quirky nervous system.  

The night was officially ruined, and sleep had completely vanished. The least I could do was turn the scare into something useful. Maybe that was the push I needed my next book moving.  

I grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and went to the office with Scratchy hopping after me. I settled into the chari in front of the mahogany desk, with the glass on one side and the laptop open.  

The blank Word screen stared back at me, stubborn. It had been like that for months. But tonight, I was going to get something out of it. Even if by force.  

I wrote some loose scenes, disconnected fragmentes that might make sense once I could assemble the whole story. I also started sketching the protagonist: name, age, hometown, traumas, small oddities that could pop up along the way. 

A timer ran on a app in the corner of the screen, reminding me that time was passing and that working under pressure had been the best way I’d found to function over the years.  

I took another sip of wine, hoping it would unlock some hidden inspiration. I just didn’t want it to unlock another apparition in the middle of the night.  

“Is this what you’ve to offer?” the slow, soft voice came from the shadows of the office. My body froze instantly. The shiver down my spine was already becoming routine. “A cheap Merlot?”  

She emerged from the dim light. Her dark hair still framed her pale face, and this time, I could see her eyes were brown with a faint reddish in the irises. She walked slowly, trying not to scare me. Too late for that, I was already sure my heart was about to leap out of my chest at any moment.  

“I... I’m going to call the police...” I said, my voice trembling. She noticed and chuckled softly.  

She took another step into the circle of light from the lamp on the desk. Her body was slim, almost fragile, and she wear an oversized Black Sabbath t-shirt. Her skin was almost grayish from this position.  

Someone clearly needed an urgent dose of vitamin D.  

“And what are they going to do?” she asked in an amused tone. “ That idiot walked past me twice and couldn’t tell a shadow from a person.”  

Scratchy, unfazed, went over to her and started sniffing her feet. My instinct screamed at me to grab the bunny and run, but my legs had gone on strike.  

“What do you want here?”  

“I already told you. I want my blood bags.” She tilted her head slightly. “Look at my skin. I’ve never been this hungry. Never. And that’s coming from someone who’s lived far longer than she should have. Ugh... Lilia had to pick the worst moment to die.”  

My aunt’s name snapped me back to reality. I tore my eyes from Scratchy and locked onto the intruder’s face.  

“Y-you knew my aunt?” She took a step forward, but I raised my hand instinctively and backed up to the shelves. “Stay there!”  

She leaned on the desk and tilted toward me.  

“Are you scared?”  

“No!” I shot back immediately, though it was obvious I was.  

“Of course I knew your aunt. You really don’t know anything, do you?”  

I shook my head. Because, in fact, since I’d set foot in this house, nothing made sense. My bain tried to rationalize again, but my gut screamed there was no room for logic here.  

“An untrained witch. Just what I needed” she muttered, rolling her eyes.  

Crazy just like my aunt.  

“You have five minutes to explain yourself.” I grabbed my phone off the desk and held it up at her like a weapon. The woman stared at the device, confused. “Or I’ll call the police and they’ll throw your ass in jail.”  

She huffed and flopped into the armchair on the other side of the desk.  

“You want the short version or the long version?”  

“Make it quick!” I replied, sitting back down and keeping a safe distance.  

She crossed her arms and pouted. In any other context, I might even have thought it was cute.  

“The Inquisition was more fun than you,” she grumbled.  

I raised my phone again and shook it, reinforcing the threat.  

“Your time is running out!”  

“Fine, fine. Simplifing things, I’m the vampire...” she pointed at herself and then at me. “ And you’re the new witch babyssiter. So wave that wand, sorceress. We’ve got to renew the runes before thar corpse trapped under the house decides to come out and turn the whole town into a zombie festival!”  

I stared at her with my mouth half open, completely in shock, while my brain locked trying to process which part had gone insane first. My automatic reaction was to go straight to my phone, but before I could even reach the edge of the desk, I felt a thud and my body was slammed against the shelves with absurd force.  

She was already in front of me.  

That strenght made no sense for her body. Up close, her eyes glowed even redder. Her cold hand wrapped around my neck, pressing just enough to make me gasp.  

“What are you?” I managed to whisper.  

She calmly lenead her face toward mine, just as she had when she appeared on my bed. Her mouth opened slowly, revealing fangs sharp enough to tear skin like paper. Even gripped by terror, I was fascinated. It was like one of my characters had stepped right out of the pages to haunt me personally.  

“I told you. I’m a vampire,” she replied in a low voice. Her eyes scanned every inch of my face. “Don’t be so obvious. I can feel your fear dancing throught your blood.”  

“I’m not scared...” I tried to deny again, but even I didn’t believe it.  

“You are. I like it.” She gave another laugh that echoed through the room, sinister and amused at the same time. “My name is Rio Vidal.”  

So the nightmare had a name.  

She suddenly let go of me, and I stumbled, coughing at the abrupt loss of contact. While I massaged my neck trying to steady my breath, she was already sprawled back in the armchair.  

“Agatha... Agatha Harkness,” I introduce myself, almost without thinking.  

What else could I do? She was right there in front of me, as real as the rug under my feet. I’d always been the type who needed to see to believe. And now, wel... the whispers, the shadows, the noises in the basement, it all seemed to fit, even through I was desperately trying to deny it.  

“Lilia said I’d have trouble with you in case she died, but I didn’t expect a complete layperson,” Rio commented with disdain. “Seriously, you don’t know anything? Not even a basic location spell?”  

I shook my head again, feeling like a student being scolded.  

Rio threw her hands up in a dramatic gesture and marched to the shelf. She gradded and ol, dust-covered book and tossed it at me.  

The title was fading but still legible.  

“A Practical Guide for the Harkness Coven,” I read aloud.  

She clapped her hand mockingly.  

“Wow! You can read! Maybe you’re not as useless as you look!” she said brightly, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.  

“Of course I can read, you... bargain-bin character from a Tim Burton movie!” I shot back with what I thought was the worst insult possible, but she just laughed louder.  

“Let’s get started,” Rio pointed at the book, urgent me open it. “The Harkness’s witches wrote several grimoires over the centuries...”  

“Centuries?” I interrupted, feeling my skepticism surge back full force.  

She sighed, her shoulders drooping.  

“Haven’t we moved past that part already?”  

“I’m still not even sure you’re real,” I said, leafing through the pages of the book suspicioulys.  

“Want another demonstration?” she asked in a teasing tone, one eyebrown raised.  

I only answered with a scathing look.  

The grimoire was handwritten in a dark ink that left occasional smudges. Whoever made it had put real effort. My aunt’s name appeared at the bottom of several pages, firm cursive signature making it clear all of this was real. The paper was thick, heavy, smealling of mold and dried herbs. Each page contained detailed records of women from the Harkness lineage.  

Evanora Harkness — founder of the coven, fire witch. Specialized in enchantments, manipulation of flames and purification. Responsible for raising the first ancestral protection circle in Salem.  

Status: burned at the stake. Salem, 1692.  

“That one was a real bitch,” Rio muttered from the other side of the room. I looked up, surprised. She answered with a sideways glance. “Don’t even ask.”  

I went back to the book, my curiosity growing with every line.  

Prudence Harkness — coven member, protection witch. Know for developing strong magical barries. Worked for years as Evanora’s guardian.  

Status: missing. Last record: 1710.  

Zelda Harkness — coven member, green witch. Controlled local flora and fauna, creator of Westview’s Circular Garden, which served as magical channeling point.  

Status: dead. Westview. 1871.  

Hilda Harkness — coven member, potion witch. Created healing elixir and ritual poisons. Knows for developing the “Ink of Truth,” used to record this grimoire. 

Status: dead. Westview, 1871.  

Lilia Calderu-Harkness — coven member, divination witch. Specialist in visions, lunar cards and prophecies. Recited the runes that still seal the house to this day. 

Status: alive.  

“Well, that’s outdated...” I murmured, reading the word alive. I took a pen, crossed it out and replaced it with dead, adding “Westview, 2025” beside it, trying to keep the handwritten similar to the others.  

I leaned back in the chair, covering my face with my hands. I sighed deeply. With every page, the insanity seemed a little more plausible.  

“What happened in Westview in 1871?” I asked, still not believing I was going along with this conversation. “Why did two... witches die?  

Rio leaned forward, her eyes gaining a wicked gleam.  

“That is, actually, a great question,” she said calmly. “I kind of was the trigger. I met the Harknesses in Salem, during that horrendous witch hunt. Ah, some of them weren’t even witches, just unlucky. Evanora didn’t like me. Used to said I didn’t have the right last name, and therefor couldn’t be trusted. After she died, I helped your coven escape the stake.”  

“My coven?” I asked ironically.  

“Yes, your coven. Accept it already, it’s easier,” she replied.” “After that, we went separeted ways. The settled in Westview and I traveled around. When thigns went wrong, I came back. Your aunt helped me. She was grateful for what I did in Salem.”  

“What kind of things went wrong?” I asked, trying to extract more of her strange past. For the first time, Rio seemed uncomfortable. She shifted in the armchair, looking away from me.  

“That’s not the point,” she said sharply. “What matters is that there was a necromancer witch. Those are the worse. Cruel, selfish, no sense of balance.”  

The house shook. Not a normal tremor, it seemed like the walls reacted to the word necromancer. A muffled roar rolled through the structure. I gripped the edge of the desk, thinking for a second that the ceiling would collapse on our heads.  

Rio, however, stoop up and began shouting at the floor.  

“SHUT UP, YOU EVIL CREATURE!” she bellowed with an authority that reverberated. Soon after, everything fell silent.  

I pressed a hand to my chest.  

“What was that?!”  

Rio sat back down with the utmost calm.  

“The necromancer witch I was talking about.”  

I jumped, feeling my sanity slip through my fingers. I grabbed my phone and started dialing with trembling hands.  

“That’s it! Enough of this madness!” I exclaimed. “I’m calling the police and you...” I pointed at her. “I don’t want to hear another word of you and your senseless stories!”  

Before the call went through, the house shook again. This time with enough force to knock me off balance and onto the floor. Before I could feel the impact, Rio was already there at my side, in what felt like the blink of an eye. She wrapped her arms around my waist and held me up until the tremor passed.  

If she breathed, I would have felt the arm air against my face. But what came was only the sweet, metallic scent escaping from her lips.  

“The more you deny it, the harder life will be for both of us.”  

My eyes slipped over her face and landed right on her lips, which looked almost chapped.  

“Are you threatening me?” I ask with the last shred of courage I had left.  

“No,” she loose her grip on my waist. “I’m warning you. Will you let me finish the story now?”  

I nodded without much conviction. Whe she stepped back, we returned to our positions. Rio in the armchair, sunk in the shadows. Me in the chair, trying to cinvence myself this all made sense.  

My mind tried to catch up with all that information. Rio moved faster than the human eye could track, her fangs were definitely not normal, and the house had shaken. That wasn’t my imagination.  

“As I was saying,” she resumed. “Your aunt and the coven helped seal the necromancer witch under the house.”  

Her expressiong changed, turning bitter. Her gaze became distant.  

“Her name is Hela. And she’s the most evil thing I’ve ever met walking this earth. When I found out she was gathering an army of night creatures, I knew I had to act. Her thirst for power would have plungeg this continent into darkness, and not in the poetic way.”  

“If you’re a vampire,” I began carefully, weighing each word. “Why would you oppose to that? Imean, you’re also a night creature.”  

“And because of that I should root for the destruction of the world?” she shot back. “I’ve seen too much destruction. Empires fallings, wars leaving only ashes behind, innocents dying. I don’t wish that on anyone.”  

I bit my lip, feeling bad for what I’d said.  

“How old are you? To have seen all that, you must be older than I can imagine.” 

“Over four hundred,” she replied without hesitation. “But I stopped counting a long time ago.”  

I pressed my hand to my forehead, trying to grasp the weight of it all. A four centuries-old vampire sitting in my home office. A necromancer buried under the house. My aunt was really a witch.  

“If you met my aunt in 1692...” I tried to do the math in my head, but it was useless. “How old was she?”  

“Not as old as me. When we met, Lilia was still a young witch. Maybe in her mid fortys. Kind of crazy, but divination witches usually are.”  

“Am I also a divination witch?”  

“Only time will tell,” she stand up. I stood too, by reflex. “We have to see how your magic reacts to the runes. But for tonight, you’ve had enough. We’ll continue tomorrow.”  

She left the office. I started following her, practically tripping over my own feet. Scratchy hopped along with us.  

“Wait! I have a thousand questions!” I exclaimed, hurrying after her. We passed one of the symbols drawn at the room’s entrance. “Are these runes? What do they do? Are witches immortal? Am I immortal? How do I activate my magic? Is it like in the movies? Does it shoot lightning from my hand?”  

The words tumbled out, as if my mouth had disconnected from my brain. I couldn’t even believe what I was saying, but the adrenaline made me feel in a haze.  

“Don’t be so simplistic. Magic is a refined art,” said Rio without even looking at me and kept walking to the back door in the kitchen. She opened and the cold night wind hit my face. “I’ll explain the runes tomorrow. For now, I need to hunt some animal in the forest, since you didn’t bring my blood bags.”  

“Animal? Are you like Edward Cullen?” I teased, letting out and ironic laugh.  

Rio stopped and turned slowly, her brown slightly furrowed.  

“Who’s that? An enemy?” she asked seriously.  

I blinked, incredulous.  

“He’s just a character from a book. A vampire too, only sparklier.” I looked away. “So... you don’t bite humans?”  

“Not if I can avoid it.”  

“Why not?”  

“None of your business!” Rio snapped. Then looked over my shoulder, straight at Scratchy. “Is your bunny a pet or is he available for consumption?”  

I grabbed Scratchy as fast as I could. Rio let out a loud laugh and before I could retort anything, she vanished into the darkness. 

Chapter Text

I couldn’t sleep that night. I spent the whole time in the office, digging through every book I could find. Or, as Rio called them, Aunt Lilia’s grimoires. Each one dealt with a different subject. Banishments, evocations, apells, protection runes, blood magic.  

There were even some very specific guides about how to survive sharing a house with a night creature, but those seemed more like rants from a cranky old woman with too much time and too little wine. According to Lilia’s recordings, the vampire was  terrible roommate. Something told me I was about to confirm that myself.  

Amid the papers, I found a dusty notebook with dark green cover and Rio’s named engraved on the front. It looked older than all the others put togehter. I didn’t dare open it. It felt too personal, something she would never leave in my hands.  

The sun had barely started to rise when I heard the back door open. Soon after, the grumpy vampire appeared, lokking irritable, dragging her feet tomard the basement. The cotton t-shirt stained with blood didn’t help my peace of mind. I thought about calling her, asking what happened, but in the end I let her crawl back into that dark hole where she lived.  

I pushed through the busy morning running on energy drinks and coffe. I probably risked a cardiac collapse, but if I really was a witch descended from an ancient coven, I doubted caffeine would be what killed me.  

When I sat in front of my laptop, it was as if some key had turned inside my head. One that unlocked the creativity I’d been trying to force. By the time the energy drink wore off, I’d already written more than fifty pages. Of course everything that had happened the night before ended up fueling the story.  

I didn’t have the strenght to go up to my bedroom, so I threw myself on the couch with an old blanket and passed out right there. I woke up hours later with the doorbell ringing nonstop. For a second I hovered in that limbo between dream and reality, almost convinced it had all been a trip of my tired mind. But then I caught the sweet scent of the vampire still hanging in the air, and that was too real to ignore.  

I dragged myself from the couch to the front door and peek throught the peephole. I was the moving truck, bringing the rest of my stuff and, most importantly, my black ‘67 Impala.  

I let out a relieved sigh.  

I stayed coordinanting the movers while they went in and out of the house carrying boxes, furniture e rugs. I don’t the noise of hammers and orders being shouted didn’t bother my basement guest, but she stayed gone. Not a single grumble.  

Maybe she was hibernating.  

Once everything was in place, the house finally looked like it had left the nineteenth century. The tube television was replaced by a flat screen with all the streaming apps installed, ready to distract me with any romcoms while I pretended my life was still under control. The internet was also up, which gave me a bit of comfort and a sense of normalcy.  

I paid the movers and closed the door, finally alone with Scratchy. Well, as alone as one can be in a house where a centuries-old creature hides.  

I tried to ignore that asn I went to the ktichen and started preparing dinner. I left my laptop open on the counter, ready to catch any flash of inspiration or to check useless notifications every five minutes. The smell of meat with herbs filled the air as the sky changed color outside. The sunset was beautiful, but I admit I kept counting the minutes. I knew that as soon as the last ray disappeared, she would show up.  

And she did.  

The basement door creaked, but this time I didn’t jump out of scared.  

I don’t know how Rio could be so light and at the same time so strong, but she crossed the kitchen as if floating, without making a single sound. She looked like a shadow.  

“I miss the taste of meat,” she murmured from the doorway.  

I turned my head. She was still wearing the same Black Sabbath t-shirt with the dark bloodstain.  

“And potatoes, and banquets... At least I can still drink wine,” she added, flopping into the nearest chair. She rested her forehead on the marble counter. “My existence is so miserable!”  

“Are you always this pessimistic?”  

Rio slowly raised her face, staring at me with pure drama.  

“You’d be pessimistic too if you were condemned to live as a parasite!”  

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the pan.  

“At least take a shower,” I muttered. “Your t-shirt's still covered in blood.”  

“At least take a shower,” Rio mocked, mimicking me in a shrill voice. When I glanced over my shoulder, she was already gone.  

Twenty minutes later, I was sunk into the couch with a steaming plate on my lap, a glass of wine balanced on the coffe table and the Twilight logo shining on the screen. A completely random movie choice, by the way. Nothing do to with my current situation.  

Rio appeared barefoot, hair wet, in a worn-out sweatpants and an Ozzy Osbourne t-shirt. No blood this time. I almost burst out laughing at how her style seemed stuck some point at 1973, but I held it in.  

“I see you’re a fan,” I pointed with the fork at the t-shirt.  

“He’s the greatest artist in history,” Rio reaplied with conviction, sitting besime me. Her gaze shifted between my face and the plate. “Is it good?”  

I took a sip of wine before answering.  

“Very. I’m a great cook. You can’t eat anything?” I speared a piece of meat and waved it in front of her. “Not even a bite? Nothing at all?”  

Rio narrowed her eyes. She definitely caught my teasing smile.  

“I feel like you’re making fun of me.”  

I put a hand to my chest, feigning outrage.  

“I’d never do that!”  

If Rio had any intention of attacking me, she would have done it yesterday, or the night before, when I didn’t even know she existed. The simple fact we were sharing a couch was proof that deep down she was harmless. Or at least trying to be. So, a little teasing was okay.  

She looked at the television. The shock was instant.  

“What is this?!” Rio jumped to her feet. “Where’s the magic tube with the images?!” she gestured insignantly at the new television. “Where are my tapes?! I need to watch ‘The monster on the Black Lagoon’ at least once a week. What did you do, you witch?!”  

“That old thing?” I asked, taking another sip of wine. “I threw it out. I was falling apart on its own, Rio.”  

“What?!” Her eyes widened and she ran out to the front door. “Where is it?!”  

I stayed on the couch, just listening to the commotion outside. The sound of a trash lid being opened, things being rummaged through. A few minutes later, Rio came back inside covered in garbage, hair messy and a banana peel stuck right on top of her head.  

“It’s not out there! Where did you put it?”  

I burst out laughing this time, no holding back.  

“I send it off with the movers. They’ll probably dump it in some depot or who knows where.”  

“Gross.” Rio pulled the peel from her head. “This is all your fault. Now I’ll have to take another shower.”  

Bella Swan’s voice caught Rio’s attention. She turned to the television with her eyes glued to the screen. Is was the scene where Edward saw Bella in the classroom.  

“What is he doing?” she asdke, frowning when Edward run out of the classroom. “Does she stink?”  

“No, silly. He’s smelling her blood,” I explained. “He’s a vampire. Like you.”  

Rio crossed her arms, clearly offended.  

“He’s nothing like me,” she muttered, full of herself. “I don’t make that dump face when I smell someone with delicious blood. I didn’t look like that when I saw you, for example.”  

I raised an eyebrow.  

“Excuse me?”  

“I... Nothing!” she stumbled over her own words. “I’m going to take another shower!”  

This time Rio stayed even logner in the bathroom. When she came back, the movie was already halfway through. She smelled nice again, now wearing a Madonna t-shirt.  

“Good to know your musical taste goes beyong loud ‘70s rock,” I commented. 

“I’m a great appreciator,” she stroked the print on her shirt. “I have a huge collection of vinyls.”  

“Vinyls? My God, you and my aunt really were stuck in the last century. Come here.” I gestured with my finger and she came to sit next to me. “Let’s make a deal. You teach me everything about magic, spells, all these weird things. And I’ll teach you how to live in the twenty-first century.” 

Rio stayed silent for a few seconds.  

“Does that inclued some way for me to watch my movies?”  

I picked up the rometo on the coffe table and showed it to her.  

“See this here? You use to control that there,” I pointed at the television and pressed a button, returning to the menu. “You can watch practically anything. There’s a huge catalog.”  

I typed the name of the movie she’s mentioned earlier. Whe the title appeared on the screen, she let out an impressed sigh.  

“Witchcraft...” Rio muttered, eyes shining.  

“Technology, Rio.” I corrected.  

“It’s like that little metal box that played music? Who was that woman singing? Her voice sounded like poetry,” she said enchanted.  

“That was Avril Lavigne. She’s cool, but not poetry. And the little box was my cell phone. You kind destroyed it, by the way,” I said, remembering the cracked screen with some regret. “But yes, the cell phone is like a compact version of a computer. Like the one on the kitchen counter.”  

“And it also plays movies?”  

Seeing her excited sbout something I could explain finally took away that feeling of being completely useless in this new universe.  

“It does, but it also does much more than that. There’s something called the internet. It connects people all over the world. You can talk to someone on the other side of the world in real time.”  

“I can talk to Alice?!” she got even more excited, almost jumping on the couch.  

“Who’s Alice?” I asked, confused.  

“My best friend. She shows up every now and then, brings news from the outside world. But the last time she came was about...” She looked at the ceiling and started counting on her finger. “Forty years ago, I think.”  

I gaped.  

“Forty years? How do you know she’s still alive?”  

Because it’s Alice. Nothing can kill her.”  

“That’s a long time to disappear,” I cammented, still amazed.  

“Time passes differently for those who are immortal.”  

Rio stood and went to the middle of the room.  

“Okay, my turn to teach you something,” she knocked on the wall beside the television, where one of the symbols was drawn. “This is a protection rune. You’ve probably noticed they’re scattered all over the house. Lilia drew them after the coven managed to imprison Hela. They keep us safe and keep her locked down below.”  

“If these runes are here to keep Hela contained, why did the house almost collapse yesterday?”  

Rio put her hands on her hips and gave me an accusatory look.  

“Because you took too long!”  

“Me?” I let out a short laugh. “So that’s my fault too?”  

“Exactly,” she confirmed withou a hint of a doubt. “The runes need to be reinforced every week, just as a precaution. And the can only be renewed by A harkness witch. But you were who knows where, doing who knows what. Now, they’re weakening.”  

“Oh, sorry if I wasn’t available to keep your supernatural pact up to date,” I shot back, irritated. “I was busy dealing with a divorce, with an agent pressuring me to release another book and with my aunt’s death. Which, by the way, you lived with her for over a century and so far haven’t shown much... how can I put it... grief.”  

Rio’s expression changed instantly. She looked away and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.  

“I warned Lilia several times this could happen,” she said in a lower tone. “But over time, she got careless. And of course I miss her. She was my friend.”  

I stayed silent for a second, feeling guilt rise slowly like a wave. I neede to remember that, as weird and theatrical as she was, Rio still had feelings.  

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” I murmured. “What did you mean by ‘this could happen’? The coroner said it was an accident in the woods.”  

“Lilia was crazy, but she wasn’t stupid.” Reo let out a dry, humorless laugh. “A witch like her doesn’t die from some silly stumble in the woods.”  

My stomach churned.  

“You think she was... murdered?”  

“Maybe,” she replied, looking at me again.  

“But by who?”  

“Options abound. Other witches, hunters, Hela’s followers. They showed up in droves at the beginning of the last century. I got rid of everyone who approached the house. That’s why I almost never go out. Only when I really need to feed. I prefer to stay close, in case something goes wrong.”  

“That’s why the blood bags,” I said as I sarted to put the pieces together. The deal with Sarah was to keep Rio fed without leaving the house. “But why don’t you feed on humans? All the books say vampires are monsters thirsty for blood.”  

She stared at me for what felt like too long. There was no anger, only sadness.  

“I don’t want to be a monster,” she said siply. And walked away.  

I followed her to the office. Rio pulled a grimoire from the shelf and tossed at me. I caught the book in surprise, feeling its weight and the dust hit my face in a puff.  

As I opened it carefully, the pages were full of handwritten lines in a dense script, in a language I had no idea what it was.  

“What language is this?” I frowned as I tried to read it.  

“Latin,” Rio replied, already beside me. She pointed to a specific line with her finger. “I don’t expect you to understant it at first, but I need you to memorize this. It’s the spell that keeps the runes active.”  

“Clauditur daemonium...” I started to try, but it came out all jumbled. “Okay, that definitely didn’t sound right.”  

Rio let out a impatient sigh and pratically shoved the grimoire back in my face.  

“Again,” she ordered. “Repeat until you get it.”  

S tepped closer to the rune carved on the office door. I took a deep breath and tried again. Then again. And again. Nothing happened. With each failed attempt, the sense of failure grew, like trying to fit a piece that simply didn’t belong there. 

My anxiety started as a tingling in my finger, then rose and spread through my chest. For a moment, I wondered if I wasn’t imagining everything. The magic, the house, Rio Vidal.  

Maybe I’d hit my head and was hallucinating this whole time.  

“Clauditur...” my voice faltered. Frustrated, I threw the grimoire away. “I can’t do it!”  

“You have to, Agatha!”  

“No, I don’t!” I shot back, louder than I intended. “I didn’t ask to be born into this family, or to carry the weight of a pact I don’t even understand! And much less to share a house with the most unbearable creature I’ve ever met!”  

“I didn’t want to be stuck here with the most mediocre witch in the Harkness line either, but look where we are,” Rio retorted.  

I opened my mouth to snap back. I was going to say she was wrong, that I could be talented. But I swallowed the words. Deep down I thought she was right. I was completely lost. With every step I took, I felt myself sinking deeper. I couldn’t even pronounce a single phrase.  

“Sorry... I just... I wan to learn, I’m just confused,” I admitted in a thin voice.  

Rio stepped closer and placed her hands on my shoulders, hently turning my body back toward the rune.  

“You’re trying to hard,” she said softly near my ear. Her hands lid down my arms to wrap around my waist, stopping at my stomach. She pressed lightly at my diaphragm, trying to align my breathing. “Magic isn’t about perfection, it’s about presence. About feeling what’s around you and let it guide you. Breath deep and try again.”  

I obeyed, trying to keep my eyes on the rune and not think to much about her hands on my body.  

“Don’t worry about speaking pretty. Just feel. Repeat with me.”  

“Clauditur daemonium, potestas sit ligata...”  

The wood groaned as if alive. A thread of purple light seeped from the rune, spreading slowly through the cracks until it covered the whole symbol. The glow intensified for a few seconds, illuminating my face and Rio’s. The cracks vanished and the wood looked brand new. Then the light faded.  

I turned to her, looking for some sign I’d done it right. I found it, not in words, but the small smile forming at the corner of her mouth.  

“Good girl,” Rio murmured.  

We repeated the process in every room of the house, one rune at a time, until Rio confirmed everything was under control. The basement was last. The only place I hadn’t visited yet. The place where Rio spent most of her time.  

She pushed the iron door, reaveling a cavernous, dimly lit space. The walls were covered with rock abdn vynils. In the corner, and old record player rested bised and unstable pile of books. There were more books stacked everywhere. Mostly classic horror. Carmilla sat on top of one of the piles.  

In the center of the room, right over a rune carved into the stone floor, was a glossy black mahogany coffin.  

I looked at Rio with a teasing smile. She only shrugged.  

“What can I do? I like the steryotipe,” she said, resigned.  

“Wouldn’t be more comfortable to sleep in one of the rooms upstairs?”  

“I can’t risk Hela esca...”  

“Do you let this thing control your whole life?” I cut her off. “You said yourself the runes hold her, and that you practically exterminated her followers. Do you really need to sleep here, like a guard at a dungeon door?”  

Rio looked at the coffin, then at the rune on the floor. For the first time since we met, she didn’t seem to have an answer at the tip of her tongue. That unsetled me. If the vampire was hesitant, maybe I should be much more worried.  

“Let’s just finish this,” she pushed the coffin aside.  

We redid the ritual. The latin words came a bit more naturally. The house began to shake again, and this time I clearly heard a scream rising from the depths of the earth. High-pitched, animalistic and full of rage.  

I felt Rio’s hand squeeze mine tighly, anchoring me.  

“Keep going, Agatha.” She said firmly. “It’s working.”  

I went to the end. When the last words echoed through the room, the vibration ceased. The purpplish glow circling the rune slowly went out until it disappeared completely. The ground felt firmer.  

My legs gave out. Before I fell, Rio caught me easily. That’s when I realized how exausted I was. My body ached as if I’d run a marathon.  

“Magic takes a toll on the body,” she whispered, lifting me effortlessly. We climbed the stairs in silence, and she carried me to my bedroom. She laid me gently on the bed, pulling the blanket over me. “Rest, Agatha Harkness. I will watch over your sleep.”  

I fell asleep before Rio sat down in the armchair. 

Chapter Text

“LIES! LIES! LIES!” 

Rio’s ragged scream tore through the house, ripping me from sleep and learly trowing me out of bed.  

I bolted upright, trying to understand where on earth I was. Darkness everywhere. Was it still night? Was it night again? I couldn’t tell if I’d slept for half an hour or twelve. Judging by the hollow growl in my stomach, I’d bet on the latter.  

“NO! NO! NO!” she howled again, this time followed by a deafening crash, like somethig hurled violently to the floor.  

Either the vampire was having an emotional breakdown, or something had gone terribly wrong. Perhaps both.  

More sounds now. Fabric tearing. Expensive fabric. My brand-new curtains!  

If she had destroyed my curtains, I swear on everything that’s sacred...  

“AGATHA!”  

I shot out of bed, jammed my feet into fluffy slippers and raced down the stairs. What I found in the living room made me freeze on the last step on the stairs, breath caught in my throat.  

The curtains lay shredded across the floor. My laptop sat in two jagged halves, as if hurled against the wall and then run over by a truck. And in the midst of the wreckage knelt Rio, on the rug, her face soaked with tears, sobbing like a child.  

“What the hell did you do?” I gasped, pointed at the ruined laptop.  

She lifted a trembling finger toward the wreckage, hiccupping through her sobs.  

“Your magic machine is lying,” she said, voice choked. “It says the Prince of Darkness is dead.”  

It took me a moment to piece together. Then I remembered the battered Ozzy Osbourne t-shirt she always wore, and my expression melted into a long, silent ‘aaah’.  

“Yeah... He died...” I confirmed, hands on my hips. Rio shot me a murderous glare. “He was old, Rio!”  

“What do you mean ‘old’?” she snapped, making air quotations with her fingers as she got up. She stalked toward me, trying to look threatening, but I knew better. “He’s the Prince of Darkness!”  

“He wasn’t really the Prince of Darkness,” I tryed to explain to the antisocial vampire who apparently was in mourning. “It was just a nickname. A marketing strategy to sell records.”  

“I don’t believe you!” She stomped her foot. “You’re lying just like that machine!”  

I stared what used to be my laptop, already imagining the nightmare I was going to have trying to save my files. I should have used the cloud.  

“Then don’t believe it,” I muttered, crouching to gather the pieces. Along with a new phone, now I needed a new laptop. “Look at this! Look what you’ve done!”  

Rio wiped her face with the back of her hand and stormed off toward the basement.  

“Hey! Come back here!” I dumped the laptop on the couch and chased after her. “How long did I sleep?”

“Two days,” she replied as she pushed the iron door.  

“And you just let that happen? Rio, I’m still human! I need to eat, like, real food!” I followed her down. “If two days have passed, then it’s Sunday. I have to meet that blood smuggler.”  

“Finally," she grumbled, heading straight for the record player. She dropped an Black Sabbath album on it and the music blasted out.  

“You’re coming with me.”  

She only cast me a bored glance and turned the volume higher.  

“Rio, I’m not meeting a stranger in the middle of the night with a suitcase full of blood on my own.” She reached to turn it up again, but I flicked off the player and glared. “Either you come with me, or you can live on squirrels for the rest of eternity.”  

Her eyes widened, and I allowed myself a triumphant smile.  

“I can’t survive on squirrels. Animal blood only sustain me for a short period. I’ll dry out!”  

“Then dry out.”  

“I’ll eat your rabbit!” she threadtened.  

“Do that and I’ll unleash the lunatic beneath your coffin,” I pointed at the rune on the floor. “Are you coming or not?”  

She crossed her arms, pounted, but at last relented.  

Minutes later we were in my car. I chewed an apple just to have something in my stomach while Rio drummed her foot nonstop on the passenger floor.  

“You’re going to wear a hole in it,” I ramerked, starting the engine. “Seatbelt. I don’t want an accident.”  

“I’m a vampire. My chances of dying in an accident are ridiculous.”  

“Seatbealt, Rio!”  

She shot me another deadly look but, after a few fumbling attempts, the aseatbelt clicked it into place. She didn’t even seem to know how the seatbealt worked. For fuck’s sake.  

I turned on the radio to break the taut silence. My only mistake was let it on in the classic-rock station. Nothing but Ozzy Osbourne. Tributes, songs, old interviews. In under a minute Rio was sobbing again, loud and incoherent, demanding to know why the man inside the engine was lying too.  

She belted the lyrics as if she was at her own funeral. That’s how it went all the way to the ATM and then to the bridge at the end of the road. Literally, a bridge at the end of a road. Between sobs, her directions were a mess, but after much drama and a few wrongs turns, we arrived.  

Sarah waited on the other side, beside a red car with its trunk open. As soon as she saw me, she waved brightly.

“Stay here and... I don’t know, honk if someone comes,” I said as I shut off the car. “I don’t want anyone from town seeing me like this.”  

I climbed out with an envelop stuff with cash. I felt like a criminal. Which, tecnically, I was. Beyuing stolen blood from a nurse definetily made the list of crimes.  

From award-winning horror writer to hemoglobin dealer. What a phase.  

Sarah greeted me with the same warm hug in our first meeting. She opened made space near the trunk and drew out a black case. With a click, she realease the clasp. Seven blood bags lay neatly inside.  

“I got her favorite type,” she said with a sly smile. “O negative.”  

Of course Rio had a type. Some prefer blondes, others brunettes. Rio Vidal preferred O-negative blood.

“Here.” I pulled the money from the envelope and counted it out before her. “Three thousand five hundred.”  

Sarah checked it slowly. When she finished, she closed the case and slid it toward me.  

“Pleasure doing business, Agatha. Same time next week?”  

I nodded, gripping the case tight. As I turned to leave, she called after me.  

“Could you bring that anti-wrikle potion? Your aunt used to make a great one, and I always gave her a discount.”  

I searched my memory for anything like that in the grimoires but came up empty. Maybe Rio would know.  

“Sure, sure... Wrinkles. See you next time.”  

I practically run back, crossed the bridge and slid into the car. Rio still leaned against the window, desolate. One glance at the case and she transformed.  

She snatched it from my hands and opened in a rush, toring the seal off in one of the bags and drank it down like a juice box. Gradually her skin lost its gray cast and took on a warm glow. The red of her irises, deepened these past days, faded back to hazel brown. She looked almost... human.  

I stared, silent. Astonished.  

“Delicious,” Rio murmured, wiping her nouth. “What?!” she asked when she caught my alarmed look.  

“Nothing... Let’s just go.” I started the car, trying not to dwell on what I’d just witnessed. “What do you know about an anti-wrinkle potion?”  

“Tha doesn’t exist,” Rio said, sipping more blood. “Why?”  

“Sarah said Aunt Lilia made one for her. And got a discount on that.” I nodded at the case.  

Rio let out a dry laugh.  

“That was just tea with some random herbs Lilia took from my garden. No magic at all. Sarah’s a fool, she believed anything we said in a mysterious voice.”  

I couldn’t hold back a laugh. Rio joined in, recounting how Lilia duped Sarah with tarot reading and placedo potions. It was clear she had little patience for the blonde and only tolarated her for the blood supply.  

“Lilia was a disaster with potions,” she went on. “Maybe a real potion witch could make something effective, but that old woman could barely tell her visions from ordinary dreams lately.”  

“Speaking of witches...” I glanced at her. “Do you know kind of witch I am yeat?”  

Rio studied me for a few seconds, the blood bag still at her lips, eyes fixed on me with uncomfortable, strangely seductive intensity. Not like when she jumped out to scare me. Something more intimate.  

“I’m still not sure,” she said at last. “I need more evidence.” She drained the rest of the bag and tucked it back into the case. “But if I had to guess, I’d say you’re a runemaker.”  

I frowned, curious. I wanted to look straight at her, but forced myself to keep my eyes on the road.  

“And what exactly does that mean?”  

“Stubborn and methodical witches,” she said with a faint smile. “Just like you.”  

I opened my mouth to protest, but Rio patted my thight lightly.  

“Calm down. Let me finish. It explains your affinity for writing, and the way the runes in the house responded to you. Your latin pronunciation isn’t perfect yet, but considering you’ve never studied it, you’ve done well. It makes sense.”  

I sighned, a bit deflated.  

“That sound dull.”  

“Dull?” Rio turned to me, indignant. “Runemakers can create runes from scratch, different from other witches who can only recite it. Runes are one of the most powerful form of magic there is. They can read enchanted objects, translate forgotten languagens, decipher magic carved into millennial stones. With enough training, even manipulate memories.”  

I let that sink in, then shot her a sidelong glance with a small smile.  

“Manipulate memories? So you’re saying one day I’ll be able to read your mind?”  

“As if.” Rio rolled her eyes. “I don’t even know if you’ll make as a witch, let alone get into my head. You’ve got a lot to learn.”  

“Always so inspiring,” I murmured, dripping sarcasm.  

“Honestly, a runemaker is the most powerful being in the earth. Except, maybe, for the Scarlet Witch. But that’s more myth than truth. No one’s ever met one.”  

I nodded slowly, absorbing it all. Strange to think I might be part of something so vast. So ancient.  

“Okay, teacher. But tell me, are witches immortal like you vampires?”  

“No. Witches age and die, but in a much slower pace than humans.” Rio stretched her legs. “The stronger you are, the longer your life will be.”  

I shook my head as I parked in front of the house. If I truly dedicated myself, I could reach my aunt’s level. Maybe surpass it. The more Rio doubted me, the more I wanted to plunge into this magical world, only to rub it in her face.  

“I’m going to tend my garden. Don’t interrupt me.” Rio said as she got out of the car. “And deal with that rodent. I caught him digging near my roses. I’ll have to replant everything.”  

I only shrugged and let her go. I headed straight to my office while Rio disappeared into the backyard.  

I spend another night buried in the grimoires, trying to decipher everything my aunt had wanted to teach me while she was alive. It no longer felt like a bizarre inheritance. It felt like a legacy. One I was beginning to care. 

Chapter Text

Rio was about to give a nervous breakdown.  

After the outburst in which she destroyd my laptop, I had to go out and but new eletronics. In a rare moment of selfless, I decided to buy a extra phone for her. With a little luck, and a lot of patience, I could shove that walking disaster into 2025.  

Big mistake.  

Rio discovered the internet. Worse, she discovered 2000s pop culture. In less than a day, she became Avril Lavigne’s number one fan. I think losing the Prince of Darkness left her needy, and she decided to fill the emotional hole with a canadian punk blonde.  

Before, I was dealing with melancholic laments like “Ozzy’s gone, so the darkness is too”, and now I’m being woken at three in the morning with Sk8er Boi blaring on the living room.  

Headphones? No. That could damage her “delicate vampiric hearing”. Rio’s words, not mine.  

Sleep deprivation combined with a growing hatred for Avril’s discography led me to a radical decision. I bought a soundproofing kit and called Bucky to install it in one of the guest rooms. If he turned out to be a maniac, ar least I had an unpredictable vampire in the house.  

Rio was going to get out of that basement, one way or another.  

Bucky arrived in the middle of the afternoon with his friendly smile and a toolbox. I let him in, showed him the house, and took the chance to point out other repairs I needed. Then I led him up to the second floor.  

“What’s this?” he asked, pointing to a rune carved beside the door.  

“Oh, that... my aunt was a bit eccentric,” I replied with a half-smile. Best excuse I could think of. And it wasn’t even a lie. Lilia was strange, with or without magic.  

“I can cover with paint if you want.”  

“No!” I said too quickly, which earned me a suspicious look. “I mean, it has a charm, right? Kind of mystical.”  

“Yeah, if you’re into this sort of thing,” he gave a polite chuckle.  

“Anyway, this is the room.” I opened the door next to my bedroom. “Do you think you can install everything today?”  

He went in, looked around to evaluate the space, and turned to me.  

“No problem. But the repairs outside might have to wait for another day. I saw a garden in the back, I can...”  

“Touch my flowers and I’ll rip you head off,” said a voice behind us.  

I nearly fell from fright. I hadn’t heard any step creak, any sound of the iron door opening. But there was Rio, hidden in the shadows of the hallway, well away from the beams of sunlight cutting through the window.  

“She’s joking!” I hurried to say, trying to keep a casual tone. “This is Rio, my...” pet vampire? Supernatural punishment? Relentless spirit? “Friend. Rio is my friend. She’s staying at my house for a few days.”  

“Hello, there! I’m Bucky Barnes,” he extended his hand to greet, but Rio didn’t move an inch.  

“Get out, Bucky Barnes.” She hissed.  

“Hahaha! She’s a comedian!” My laugh came out tenser than I would have liked. “Don’t worry, you can continue your work. I’ll go make us some lemonade,” I turned to Rio. “And you’re going to help me.”  

I pushed the sulky vampire down the hall, careful that no ray of sun toched her.  

“Why is there a man in our house?” she complained as she flopped into the kitchen chair.  

“Do you know how to do basic repairs around the house?” Rio shook her head in a negative. “Neither do I. That’s why he’s here,” I added.  

“I can learn,” she countered. “The internet has everything.”  

I opened the fridge and grabbed some lemons, took them to a board on the counter and started to cut.  

“Sure. I’m certain you’d be an excellent at that after  watching half a dozen youtube videos.”  

“Whatever. What is he doing in the bedroom?”  

“Soundproofing,” I answered while squeezing the lemons straight into a glass jar. “If you plan to spend the nights listening to music at full volume, you’ll do it alone in that room. I still need to sleep at a decent hour.”  

“And what’s wrong with the living room?!”  

“The problem is that you don’t let me sleep, and it’s not even in a fun way.” I laughed at my own stupid joke.  

Rio arched an eyebrown, clearly getting the double meaning.  

“I can keep you awake in other ways, if you prefer.”  

I choked on the stop, coughing after trying the lemonade. In seconds, Rio was at my side, running her hand over my back in slow, circular motions.  

“What did you mean by that?!” I asked, still trying to catch my breath.  

“I was flirting,” she sat back down in the chair, all satisfied. “I read on the internet that’s how young people communicate when they’re attracted to someone.”  

“We’re not young! Especially you!” I grabbed two glasses and poured the lemonade. Attracted? She was attracted to me? Oh my God. “You can’t just say things like that out of nowhere.”  

“Why not? It’s just sex. A basic human need.”  

“You’re not human!” I shot back, already moving away from the kitchen.  

“I still have needs,” she followed my like a shadow. “And, modesty aside, I’m very good at it.”  

My mind betrayed me in an instant, creating scenes I shouldn’t be imagining. Not with her. Not now. Not like that.  

Still, she had centuries of experience. Centuries.  

I felt my cheeks heat up, and all I could do was hope Rio wasn’t hearing my heart puonding out of rhythm.  

“I’m not going to sleep with you, Rio.” I whispered as we went upstairs.  

“Are you trying to convince me or your body of that?” she placed her hand at the base of my spine, and I almost missed a step. “Why are you breathless?”  

“I’m not!” I lied blatanly. “Just act normal, please.”  

“Okay, okay. Whatever you want, kitten.”  

I looked at her, surprised.  

“Kitten?”  

“What? I learned on the internet!" 

Rio spent the rest of the afternoon lurking in the shadows while Bucky worked. From time to time she would appear behind me, whispering that she knew the man from somewhere and that I should stay alert. I was impossible to tell if it was just vampiric jealousy disguised as concern, since she didn’t seem to like any human, or if she was being serious.  

After a few attempts and suspicious glances at Bucky, Rio locked herself in the office with my laptop, saying she was going to do “research” about how to live in these modern times, but swore she was keeping an eye on everything and that if Bucky dared to get near her garden, the decapitation threat would still stand.  

In the end, it was actually nice to talk to someone normal for a few hours. Bucky, despite being a bit inconveniente when we met, had an ordinary air I hadn’t seen in a long time.  

I paid for the service before he left. Bucky promised to come back another day to fiz the front door that creaked like a curse every time it opened.  

As soon as he desappeared, I grabbed my phone and checked the notifications. Three messages from my agent, demanding a sample of the new book. I ignored him. Two messages from Wanda, those I answered right away. When I was hired as a freelance author at the agency where she works, more than ten years ago, it took two minutes of conversation to know that our friendship was something from past lives. Yeah, I was starting to believe that too.  

The fact is, my best friend was the only thing I missed about New York. We hadn’t spoken since I practically run away from that place, and she never approved of me leaving. She said I should have stayed, found a girlfriend, and rubbed Ralph’s irrelevance in his face.  

The last notification was from the bank. Strange, because I hadn’t bought anything recently.  

“PURCHED APPROVED $1599,99 — Avril Lavigne Life-Size Cardboard.” 

“RIO VIDAL!” I screamed, flinging the office door wide with a kick.  

She didn’t even move, remained sitting facing the laptop, with Scratchy sprawled in her lap and a glass of blood beside her. She was stroking the rabbit’s ears as if nothing had happened.  

Traitor bunny.  

“Tell me you didn’t buy a life-size Avril Lavigne cardboard!”  

Rio lifted her eyes slowly and took a sip of blood before answering.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

“I’m talking about this,” I advanced toward her and shove my phone in her face. “Explain yourself!”  

“Oh, that,” she took the phone from my hand. “I was just clicking on things. Before I knew it, it was already asking for our address.”  

“And you, of course, had absolutely no idea what you were doing, right?”  

“None,” she replied in the most innocent voice she could muster. Zero credibility. “But it’s too late now. We’ll have to live with the cardboard of the goddess of modern poetry. What a tragedy.”  

“You’re an idiot. Do you think money grown on trees?”  

“It’s made of paper, isn’t it?” Rio shrugged. “Besides, I thought you were rich.” 

“So what? That doesn’t mean you can spent all my money.” I turned to walk away.  

“You can always use Lilia’s money.”  

I stopped in the middle of the office.  

“What Lilia’s money? I thought she only left the house.”  

“Don’t be naive,” Rio took another sip of blood and turney her eyes back to the laptop. “Do you really think your aunt spent all these years living off tarot readings? Readings, by the way, she often made up on the spot. No, no. It’s all buried in the backyard.”  

I stood with my mouth half open.  

“You’re saying I’m sleeping on top of an ancestral witch and a pile of money?” 

“And jewels. Diamonds, gold. Some old coins of historycal value. I’m almost certain there’s a crown too.” Rio listed without taking her eyes off the screen.  

“Why did you never told me this?!”  

“Because you never asked.”  

I stomped firmly toward the back door, the shovel leaning against the wall already in my line of sight. My mood soured enough that Rio paused whatever she was watching and hurried after me.  

“Where are you going?” she asked slightly panicked.  

“To dig up my aunt’s money,” I stopped at the entrance of the yard and eyed the wooden-handled shovel left there. “Do you know any spell that can dig things?”  

“Of course not, Agatha. Not everything is magic. Sometimes you have to use your arms.”  

I grabbed the shovel whithou thinking twice and went to the center of the yard.  

“Here?” I struck the shovel into the grass.  

“No.”  

I took two steps to the side an struck again.  

“And now?”  

“Not yet.”  

I looked at her garden, blooming full of flowers, and then stared at Rio. She looked away and kicked a pebble, avoiding me.  

“Rio...”  

“If you touch my garden, I’ll drain until the last drop of your blood,” she threadtened, but her voice was so gently it sounded like a lazy warning.  

I crossed my arms, keeping my composure.  

“We both know you won’t.”  

“Argh!” Rio stomped her feet. “Don’t touch my garden, Agatha! You don’t even need that money!”  

I let the shovel fall on the dry grass and approached her. I brought two fingers to Rio’s chin gave a light tap, forcing her to look at me.  

“I won’t destroy your garden for now.” She was about to retort, but I brought my fingers to her lips and silenced her. “If you get out of the basement and move into the second-floor bedroom.”  

“I can’t... Hela... the windows... the sun...” she stammered, in a somewhat hesitant tone. I couldn’t tell if it was fear of becoming barbecue or because we were only a few inches from each other. Either way, I thought it was cute.  

“Shhh. Hela won’t escape because you changed rooms. And upstairs has everything you need. Blackout curtains, soundproofing, a real bed. You can spend the whole night screaming Complicated and sleep peacefully during the day. How about that?”  

She stood there for a few seconds, looking between my face and my hand still near her. Then she nodded in agreement.  

“Good vampire,” I murmured, smiling. “Now let’s go inside." 

Chapter Text

With Rio finally settled into her new room, I was sleeping much better. She no longer woke me up in the middle of the night, and I stayed away from her garden. All of this was working wonders for my productivity with the book.  

Now that I had an endless source of inspiration wandering around the living room, the story had simply unlocked in my head. Of course, spending hours staring at Rio had nothing to do with what she mentioned the other day about basic human needs. It was purely professional.  

One hundred percent focused on writing my book. Yeah. I’m sure that was it.  

My mornings were dedicated to writings. In the afternoons, I threw myself into the grimoires, trying to learn something useful. Trying being the key word. In practice, I was failing epically.  

Ever since I renewed the house’s runes, it felt like any magical spark I’d managed to summon had vanished. The tank was dry. Now there I was. Lying in a chalk-drawn pentagram in my office, surrounded by candles, eyes closed, murmuring ancient spells and absolutely nothing happening.  

To make things worse, I was about to have my period. Cramps, mood swings, and a general grudge against everything.  

“A goat recites spells better than you,” came Rio’s drawling voice from the doorway. I didn’t even bother opening my eyes.  

“Shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.” I hissed.  

“What exactly are you doing?”  

“Lighting the candles,” I draw a deep breath.  

“You’re doing a terrible job then,” she pointed out, because of course, I’d been there for over two hours and the only thing I’d lit was the cigarette I smoked ten minutes ago.  

I pretended she didn’t existed and went back to focusing. A minute later, I felt Rio’s body settle down next to mine on the floor. Her fingers touched my shoulder, poking lightly.  

Relax, Agatha. She’s just trying to mess with you, I told myself.  

“You’re failing,” Rio sing-songed in that teasing tone she’s mastered so well. I ignored her again. “Oh, come on, Aggie. Don’t you want to be a powerful witch? You’re going to have to try harder than that.”  

I bit the inside of my cheek hard to keep from telling her to go to hell.  

“Don’t call me that.” I muttered, eyes still closed.  

Rio leaned in closer. I felt her lips brush lightly against my ear.  

“What? You don’t like it?” she teased. “Aggie...”  

“I’m warning you, Rio.”  

“What are you going to do, Aggie? You can’t even light a candle.”  

“Shut up!” I yelled, eyes flying open as I slammed my hand against the floor. The moment the words left my mouth, the grimoire flew off my lap and hit into the shelves. The candles around me flared to life all at once.  

I sat up, staring around in shock.  

“I... did it?”  

Rio let out a chuckle and sat beside me.  

“I told you magic is all about emotion. And let’s be honest, you’re beautiful when you lose control.”  

My cheeks burned. Not because she thought I was beautiful. But because I was hypersensitive, hormonal, vulnerable, and ready to cry at any compliment. No matter who it came from.  

A sharp pang shot up my spine, making me double over with a groan of pain. By reflex, I grabbed Rio’s hand and squeezed tightly.  

“What’s happening?” she asked, her tone suddenly serious. “Are you okay?”  

“Just... Damn it!” I pressed a hand to my stomach, trying to ease the pain. No sucess. “It’s just... nothing. Forget it. Help me up, please.”  

Witch much more effort than I cared to admit, Rio helped me. I leaned on her shoulders as we climbed the stairs, one step at a time.  

“Want me to help with anything else?” she asked when we stopped in front of my bedroom door.  

“No, I’ll manage on my own.”  

I went inside without looking back and headed straight for the bathroom, locking the door with a click. The pain was worsening, throbbing in my back and stomach. Even undressing proved to be a obstacle. I stepped into the shower and stood there letting the hot water run down on me. Gradually, my muscles began to relax. The pain dulled just enough to keep me from screaming.  

Peace for exactly thirty seconds.  

Until Rio started pounding on the door hard enough to shake it.  

“Agatha?!” she shouted. “What’s going on? Are you hurt? Answer me!”  

I took a deep breath. Was it too much to ask for a quiet shower in this house?  

“I’m fine, Rio. Go away.”  

“Fine? What do you mean fine? I smell blood and death! That’s not ‘fine’!” she kept hammering the door as if about to break it down. “Let me in!”  

I opened my eyes, confused. What kind of nonsense was this now?  

Then I looked down.  

The water ran red.  

Oh. Right.  

When I decided to embark on this madness of sharing a house with a vampire, I hadn’t stopped to consider that once a month she would react. Intensely.  

“Nothing, Rio. Just go away.”  

But she didn’t. Rio kept pounding on the door. Now harder, more impatient.  

“What is going on?!” she demanded from the other side.  

“I’M ON MY PERIOD, RIO!” I screamed with every ounce of strenght I had left.  

The pounding stopped instantly.  

Even without seeing her face, I knew she was standing out there, frozen, probably in a existancial crisis. I’d bet she was shifting from foot to foot, unsure whether to flee, apologize, or pretend to faint.  

“Uh...” Rio murmured, guilted and embarassed. “Want some tea?”  

“Get out before I summon Lucifer to exorcise you!” I yelled again.  

The shadow under the door disappeared, indicating Rio had finally retreated.  

I sighed and went back to my shower, staying there for another half an hour, motionless, just letting the water do what it could against the cramps. When I could move without wanting to curse the world, I put on the most comfortable clothes I could find and wrapped myself in a blanket, went back to the living room and flopped onto the couch. In my miserable, emotionally unstatable, physically useless state, I hit play on Twilight again. Second time in less than two weeks.  

Judge me, go ahead.  

Apparently, I have a thing for vampires.  

Sparkly, fictional vampires, to be clear. Not rock-star, sarcastic, slightly unbearable vampires who live with me.  

I heard noises coming from the kitchen but didn’t even have the enrgy to turn my head. A few minutes later, Rio walked silently into the living room. She carried a tray with a steaming cup of tea and a generous portion of chocolate cookies.  

I raised an eyebrown, suspicious. She set the tray carefully on the coffe table and, before I could say anything, vanished from my line of sight in one swift movement.  

Maybe this was her subtle way fo apologizing for mocking my attempt at magic. 

I picked up the cup and took a sip of the tea. It tasted like chamomile with some other herb I couldn’t identify, but the warmth spreading through my body was immediate. I grabbed a cookie, then another, and another. Then I said screw etiquette and stuffed four into my mouth at once.  

Rio did know how to please when she wanted to.  

I spent the rest of the movie curlep up in my blanket, quoting random lines like a true dedicated fan. But then New Moon started, and that scene of Bella locked in her room, watching the seasons chance through the window, come on screen.  

And I started sobbing.  

It made no sense. I’d watched that movie more times than I’d ever admit out loud and it had never hit me like this. Not even during my divorce I had cried like this.  

What the hell was happening to me? Did my new magical condition come with an apocalyptic-level emotinal bonus?  

Tears rolled down unchecked, unfiltered, unstoppable. And it was in this pitiful state that I heard Rio shouting and running through the house.  

“AGATHA! STOP!” she screamed, running from the downstairs bathroom to the kitchen.  

I turned my head slowly, just in time to watch Rio trying to shut off the tap in the kitchen, which had decided to push water out of nowhere.  

“You’re making the house cry with you!” she yelled.  

But I didn’t care. I buried my face in the pillow and let out a muffled scream.  

A mirror shaterred in the hallway. Shards scattered acroos the floor. The lights in the living room began to flicker. Scratchy leapt into my lap, completely terrified, eyes wide and fur standing on end. He curled up in my arms seeking safety. Ironic, considering I was clearly losing control of both my emotions and my magic.  

“It’s so sad, Rio!” I whimpered.  

“What’s sad?!” she stopped in the middle of the living room, half-disheveled from running. “Did the cookies offended you?”  

I pointed a trembling finger at the television.  

“Bella’s still waiting for Edward to come back... and he doesn’t!” I sobbed.  

“So what? It’s just a movie!” her tone came out harsher than she probably intended, and that only made things worse. Another wave of tears sprang from my eyes. “Okay! Okay! It’s not just a movie. It’s a tragic event, I get it. What do I have to do to make you stop flooding the house?”  

I lifted my face, made a pouty expression, and patted the couch beside me.  

If my emotions hadn’t been in a turmoil, I would never have done that. But Rio was the only creature within miles capable of offering me any kind of comfort.  

“I need cuddles...”  

Rio stared at me for a few seconds. Then she approached and sat down beside me, visibly uncomfortable. Stretched an arm behind me, and I threw myself there. Her body was cold and stiff, and she didn’t seen to know how to give affection, but it still was comforting. I tossed the blanket over, and Scratchy nestled between us.  

“Better?” Rio asked.  

“A little,” I replied as I rested my head against her chest. No heartbeat, no sound. “You don’t have a heartbeat...”  

“I though you didn’t like my noise,” Rio whispered, then buried her face in my hair. She sniffed discreetly, and for a moment I wondered if she was inhaling my perfume or tracking my blood. “I like the sound of your heart. It reminds me of when mine used to beat.”  

“When you were human?” I asked, unsure if I was prying into something too personal. “Do you want to tell me what it was like?”  

“Maybe another night.”  

We stayed there in silence. The more she stroke my hair, the more my body relaxed, and with it, the house too. The lights stopped flickering, the mirrors stopped shattering, and no taps poured again. The pain receded. The emotional storm retreated.  

I spent the rest of the night clinging to my favorite vampire.  

By the end of the fourth movie, Rio was convinced it was possible to conceive a supernatural baby between two magical beings. She lost herself in conspiracy theories on the internet while I, exhausted, finally fell asleep lulled by her cold fingers. 

Chapter Text

After my extremely intimate and disproportionate display of affection last week, I started avoiding Rio like she were contagious. I blamed PMS, magic, the alignment of the planetes, any excuse would do. There was nothing to process there. Nothing.  

Then why the hell was Rio the only thing I could think about? 

Spending the night in her arms seemed to ignite something inside me. A button had been pushed and now it was impossible to turn off. She spend the whole week trying to pretend she wasn’t sniffing my scent every time I walked by, and ocassionally trying to take care of me, even though she didn’t seem to have the knack for it.  

You know that annoying little voice in the back of your head that starts whispering nonsense after too long without physical contact? The one that turns any gesture into something more? Yeah. That damned thing was screaming at me.  

It was thanks to it that I accepted one of Bucky’s advances.  

And now here I am, getting ready for a date I’m not even sure I want to go. The mirror stared back at me with the same doubt.  

Bucky wanted to take me out to dinner. Romantic, according to him. But I insisted on a lunch, very public, very bright, very safe. I said it was more practical. Rational.  

To be true, part of me would feel to guilty going out at night knowing Rio would be awake.  

So I walk through the house on light steps, holding my breath, making no noise. Got into the car and drove straight to do downtown Westview.  

I parked in front of a charming, airy café near the Circular Garden. Which, in practice, was more park than garden. The outdoor tables sat under a cover of raw fabric, the pale stone floor reflected the sunlight, and the air carried a blend of fresh coffe.  

I chose a table near the trees, witch a direct view of the park’s fountain where children were running and families were having picnics. Bucky arrived five minutes late. Nothing serious. But enough time for me to rehearse an excuse to fake an emergency and vanish.  

He showed up in a light blue shirt with rolled-up sleeves. If I stared long enough, he could pass for one of those blockbuster actors. Heandsome, in a generic way.  

“Agatha!” he approached with open arms. I panicked for a microsecond and, out of social survival instinct, extended my hand.  

“Hi, Bucky. Good to see you.”  

He pulled me into a hug, his wood fragance tried, unsuccessfully, to erase Rio’s sweet, metallic smell still lingering in my mind.  

“This café’s amazing, right?” Bucky said as he sat down. “They say the cheesecake here changes lives.”  

“Cool.”  

I tried to smile, but my face felt taped together. Everything in me felt forced at the moment.  

“How are things in that old house? I could still redo the garden for you, if you want.”  

“I’ve decided not to change the garden.”  

“Your friend wouldn’t let you touch it?” Bucky let out a sarcastic chuckle that made me want to roll my eyes. “She seems pretty possessive. Wha’ts her name again?”  

“Rio,” I said, dry. “And she’s not possessive. Just protective.”  

“But I’m no threat,” he said, reaching out to touch my arm.  

I recoiled on reflex. It wasn’t intencional, but I didn’t try to hide it either. The image of Rio the other day warning me she knew him from somewhere flashed in my mind. At the time, I hadn’t paid much attention. But now, with his forced touch and this slightly invasive demeanor resurfacing, I began to doubt my choices.  

Maybe this had all been a terrible idea. Maybe I should’ve stayde home with my grumpy vampire.  

Okay, Agatha. It’s just lunch. You’re a functional adult. Breathe.  

“You okay?” Bucky cut into my internal mantra.  

I swallowed hard.  

“I’m fine. Just hungry.”  

And missing someone. And guilty. And with a weird feeling growing inside me, like something was about to go off balance.  

We placed our orders. I chose a salad because it was the only thing on the menu my brain processed. Bucky ordered a burger, fries, and a cold beer.  

“The other day, when I was at your house,” he took a bite of his fries. “I noticed the plumbing was kind of rusty in some spots. Old houses like that usually have pipes under the structure. I could take a look for you.”  

A shiver crawled up my spine. I looked at Bucky suspiciously. Why was he talking about that? Why under the house? Did he know? Sarah seemed to know a little, at least about Rio. Maybe other people in town knew too.  

Or it was just the paranoia Rio had planted in my head.  

Either way, something didn’t add up.  

“I’ve kind of gotten used to the pipes making noise. I don’t think I can sleep without the sound of the drip anymore.”  

“You sure?”  

“I’m sure.” I cut him off, a bit sharper.  

“All right,” he chuckle again. The sound of his voice was starting to make me nauseous. “You know, I studied you before our date.”  

“Studied?” I arched an eyebrow. “That sounds vaguely creepy.”  

“Not in a stalker sense,” he took a swing of his beer. “I just read your books. Wanted to have some base, you know? Didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of a real writer.”  

“Well, you don’t seem like an idiot. Yet. Which ones did you read?”  

“All of them, actually. But Profane Solitude is my favorite, no doubt.”  

My fork stopped halway to my mouth. Profane Solitude was a ghost from my past. One of my first books, an absolute publishing flop, out of print for years and ignored even by my loyal readers. I myself avoided mentioning it.  

“You’ve got a good memory. I barely remembered that one.”  

“Impossible to forget. That part in chapter ten, with the symbol burned onto the protagonist’s back? That gave me nightmares.”  

My stomach tightened.  

I had invented that symbol. At least, I thought I had. It was something that simply appeared in my mind as I wrote. A strange, visceral symbol I’ve never been able to explain.  

If Rio was right about my inclination as a runemaker, then maybe I had created something real.  

What I wanted was to end the date right there, run home, find my edition of that book and flip through the pages until I understood what I had draw. But Bucky insisted we take a walk through the park, saying there was a statue and a funny story about witches there.  

I nodded, unconvinced, and let him lead the way over the shallow stones connecting the café to the park entrance. We walked among the trees, sunlight filtering through the leaves and warming my face. It had everything to be a nice moment, but my body stiff when Bucky intertwined his fingers with mine.  

Okay. It was a date. This kind of thing would eventually happen.  

My mind went straight to Rio, to her subtle, steady touch on me when we were wrapped under that blanket. I found myself wishing it was her there at my side, among the trees and the light. But that was impossible. Rio couldn’t walk with me on a sunny day. That kind of moment didn’t existe for her, and never would for us.  

The murmur of the main area faded until I realized we were already in a more secluded, almost empty stretch of the park. Bucky had stopped in front of a concrete sculpture. Three women, side by side, sculpted in different positions yet somehow united.  

“It’s called the ‘Triple Goddes,’” he said, excited. “People in this town say it was made by witches. Can you believe it?”  

I gave a short laugh, just to keep the silence from growing heavy. I leaned closer to the statue’s base, bending over the worn marble plaque. The letters were almost fading with time. Even so, I could make out the name Zelda Harkness engraved there.  

“That’s your last name?” Bucky asked, curious.  

“My family’s been in Westview for a long time. My father was the outcast. He left, met my mother and raised me far away from here. We came visit sometimes, but never for too long.” I touched the ring on my finger, one I always used. It were a gift from my father from when I had graduated from college.  

“And now you’ve come back to rescue the family’s witch legacy.”  

“Those things are not real,” I murmured.  

When I lifted my face to look at him, I noticed Bucky was much closer thant I would’ve allowed had I caugh his approach in time. He raised his hand to my face, ready to do something he’d regret. I was ready about to push him away to avoid a tragic kiss when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow moving between the trees. Bouncing. Chaotic.  

I pulled back immediately, narrowing my eyes to see better. It didn’t take long to understand. Or rather, recognize.  

“Agatha!” Rio shouted from afar.  

She was stumbling through the trees shade. High-collared coat buttoned to the neck, black leather pants, patent boots, yellow rubber gloves, sunglasses, a cap shoved on her head and an umbrella for protection.  

I pressed my hand to my forehead and rubbed slowly. No, this could’t be happening. She had really gone to all that trouble just to follow me in the middle of the day? Was this a jealousy crisis? Vampire-witch emotinal dependency?  

“Agatha!” she yelled again, carefully avoiding any ray of sun. “Come here!”  

“Is that your friend?” Bucky asked, visibly confused. “Is she okay? She looks feverish.”  

“No. She’s just weird,” I sighed, defeated.  

Rio began to flailing her arms desperately.  

“Agatha, hurry up before I turn to dust!”  

“I’d better go,” I said, preparing to leave before the situation got even more ridiculous.  

As I took the first step toward my disguised vampire, Bucky grabbed my wrist hard and pulled me back.  

“HEY! LET HER GO!” Rio shouted, furious this time. “I’M WARNING YOU, I’M COMING OVER THERE!”  

Bucky let go instantly.  

“Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly, raising his hands in surrender. “I didn’t want it to end like this. I had more planned for today.”  

I smoothed my wrist slowly and glared at him, irritated.  

“That was more than enough for a first date.”  

I turned my back and went toward Rio, who waited with arms crossed and her foot tapping on the grass.  

“Another time then?” Bucky yelled after me. “I’ll call you!”  

I ignored him.  

As soon as I got close, Rio yanked me under the umbrella and wrapped her arm around my waist. I chocked on the air at the sudden closeness, but assumed it was just the sun, not a possessive outburst.  

“What are you doing here?” I asked, exasperated. “Have you completely lost it?”  

“I woke up and you weren’t home!”  

I took the umbrella from her hand. She shrank, trying to hide in the minimal shade left as we walked out of the park.  

“So you decided to cross all of Westview in the middle of the day after me?”  

“Yes! You disappeared and I got...” she stopped mid-sentence.  

“Got what?” I frowned. “Got what, Rio?”  

“I got worried,” Rio whispered.  

Worried or jealous? Whatever the right answer was, a warn spread through my chest. I had to supress the smile that almost slipped out. Because if Rio was worried, it was because she cared. And if she was jealous... Well, it never hurts to give your ego a little treat now and then, right?  

“I was on a date,” I pointed out the obvious.  

“With that idiot? You can do better.”  

We followed the stone path and soon I saw my car parked near the café.  

“Oh, yeah? And who would be this better person?” I retorted, giving her a sidelong glance. “You?”  

I felt Rio’s body tense beside me. She clenched her jaw, but didn’t answer. When we reached the car, I opened the door for her. The moment she stepped out from under the umbrella to get in, the glove slipped and left part of her forearm exposed. The sunlight touched her skin and blisters began to form.  

“Ouch! Ouch!” Rio groaned in pain, covering the burn with her other hand.  

I tried to grab her, feeling my heart tightening immediately. This had been my fault, she was only there because of me.  

“Let me see,” I begged, distressed, but Rio pulled the sleeve back down and recoiled.  

“I’m fine,” she murmured, curling up in the passenger seat.  

I bit my lip lightly, stung by her rejection, and adjust myself. She slammed the door shut, and I got in on the driver’s side. I started the car, but the silence on the way back was almost suffocatting.  

My head screamed that I should apologize for disappearing and for leaving her alone without warning, but my pride still fought it, saying Rio had no right to show up of nowhere as if we meant something to each other.  

“He’s not even handsome,” Rio spat suddenly, with contempt. “Why’d you go out with him anyway?”  

“Because I find him interesting,” I lied, keeping my eyes on the road. I couldn’t tell the truth. I couldn’t admit I’d only gone out with Bucky because I couldn’t stop thinking about her.  

“I don’t trust him,” Rio huffed.  

“And why’s that?”  

“I told you, I remember him from somewhere. I just don’t know where.”  

“Then until you remember, keep those paranoias to yourself,” I shot back, raising my voice as I pressed harder on the accelerator. I just wanted to get home and end this. “And meanwhile, stay out of my life. The pact doesn’t give you free passes to stick you nose where it wasn’t invited. Especially in my love life. I go out with whoever I want, whenever I want. And I don’t want you following me.”  

“You’re so ungrateful!” Rio exploded. “I was trying to protect you!”  

“Protect me from what? You’re completely useless in daylight!” the anger slipped out before I could hold it back. Rio turned her face to me with a expression that hurt more than I expected.  

“What if he’s dangerous?” she said, in a softer tone.  

“You think everyone’s dangerous,” I slammed the brakes and parked in front of the house. As soon as the car stopped, Rio grabbed the umbrella and stormed off. I jumped out after her. “That’s what happens when you stay locked up for over a century! You’ve completely lost touch, you lunatic!”  

“Fuck off, Agatha!” Rio shouted as soon as we crosse the door.  

“You fuck off, you...” but she disappeared before I could finish.  

I stood still in the living room, feeling everything collapse inside me, then threw myself onto the couch, frustrated. It wasn’t even about the disastrous date. It was because fighting with Rio was the last thing I wanted. 

Chapter Text

“Can you see me?” Wanda’s voice echoed through my office, and then her green eyes appeared on my phone screen. 

I nodded, smiling. I couldn’t even remember the last time we’d had a proper conversation. One who wasn’t rushed texts or me cutting things short because I had to deal with some emergency, like smuggling blood or activating magical runes.

She was typing on her computer, splitting her attetion between me and whatever she was doing. 

“Still working? Wanda, it’s almost six.” 

“Everybody’s doing overtime, babe.” Her voice was tired. “A pop star’s biography is about to drop, and the agency is chaos. Oh, and speaking of it, Tony won’t stop nagging me to reming you about your deadline.” 

“Tell Tony he’ll get a draft of the first ten chapters by the weekend.” I leaned back in my chair. “But enough about work. I want to hear about you.” 

Wanda giggled and practically jumped in her seat. She’d been waiting for me to ask, no doubt. 

“I met someone,” she said, excited. I held back my ‘here we go again’ face, because Wanda met someone new every month, fell head over heels, and a week later was already bored. “Her name is Natasha. She’s a new writer here at the agency. Red hair, a little taller than me, and, most importantly, hot as hell.” 

“Oh, so the important thing is that she’s hot?” I teased. “Not that she treats you well? That she’s kind? Polite? Those things?” 

We both burst out laughing. 

“Of course she treats me well, Agatha.” Wanda said, unable to stop smiling. She looked genuinely smitten. “She rented a rooftop in Brooklyn and took me to dinner. Private chef and everything. And it’s not just that, we clicked. We never run out of things to talk about, and the sex...” 

“Way too much information, Wanda!” 

“It’s AMAZING!” she squealed. Whatever she’s been typing had been completely forgotten, and we were both laughing again. 

“I’m happy for you.” I said, still catching my breath. 

“By the way, the other day I was leaving Tiffany’s, and guess who I ran into?” Wanda drummed her fingers on her desk, trying to build suspense. “Ralph! And his new trashy girlfriend. Seriously, Agatha, she’s nothing compared to you.” 

“I really don’t care, Wanda.” And, to my surprise, it was true. Since moving to Westview, Ralph hadn’t crossed my mind once. It was like a weight I’d finally left behind. 

“Well, I still think you should’ve stayed in New York and found yourself a girlfriend just to rub it in his face. But no, you decided to bury yourself in the middle of nowhere.” 

“Actually, I have something to tell you.” I bit my lip, unsure. I needed to vent to someone about everything I’d been feeling, and Wanda had always been my confidante. But now I’d have to censor myself, feeding half-truths to the person who could sense when I was lying from miles away. 

“What is this I’m picking up, huh?” Wanda narrowed her eyes. “That little face. Did you meet someone?” 

“Sort of...” 

“HA!” She snapped her fingers at the screen. “Man or woman? Name? Age? What do they do?” 

Wanda started bombarding me with questions one after another. I leaned back, waiting patiently for her to run out of breath so I could answer. 

“Done?” I asked. 

She nodded eagerly. 

“It’s a woman. Her name is Rio Vidal and... she’s kind of my roommate.” 

Wanda frowned. 

“Roommate? Why the hell would you have a roommate? Agatha, are you having...” she lowered her voice. “Financial difficulties? Because I can help out, no problem.” 

“Of course not, Wanda. Don’t be ridiculous. She was already living here, she was my aunt’s tenant.” A pang of guilty hit me for lying, but it was the only way to explain without sounding completely insane. “I couldn’t just throw the girl out, so I let her stay.” 

“Girl? So she’s younger than you?” 

“Yes,” I lied again. Physically, Rio looked a bit younger than me. But that wasn’t the case. 

“And what’s the problem with her? Because that look on your face says something is wrong.” 

“Nothing. I mean, she’s a little loud and has zero sense of personal space. But she’s also caring, and funny in an absurd way, and there was this moment between us...” 

“Oh. My. God. You like her!” Wanda cut me off. “I can see it in your eyes.” 

“No!” I denied instantly, feeling my cheeks flush. “It’s not that. It’s just admiration.” 

“Admiration, sure.” Wanda raised her brows, barely hiding her smirk. “So, what’s she like?” Is she pretty?” 

“Yeah. She’s really pretty.” A silly smile started forming on my lips. “Shoulder-length brown hair, messy in a sexy, effortless way. Kind of a nineties rocker vibe, like she just walked out of band.” 

“You’re totally in love!” 

“Okay, in love is a stretch. I can admit I maybe have a tiny crush...” I brought my fingers together, leaving only the smallest space between them. “Very small. But that’s it. And it’s not going anywhere, because we live in the same house, and if anything happened and went wrong, it would turn living together into hell.”

“If it doesn’t work out, just tell her to find another place to live.” 

No! Because we have a supernatural pact keeping things together. Because she is a vampire over four hundred years old. Because I’m going insane just imagining her fangs on my neck. 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“Yes, it is, Agatha. You’re the one complicating things.” 

“There’s something else. I screwed up, and we fought.” 

“What was I just saying? Oh, right! That you complicate things. What did you do?” 

I lowered my head, embarrassed, and started to tell Wanda about the day Bucky had been at the house. About Rio’s wildly inappropriate comment that made me think things I shouldn’t. About the night we spent cuddling on the couch and how it was driving me crazy, because I still don’t understand what it meant and how I feel. 

When I told her about my date with Bucky and Rio’s jealous outburst, Wanda was practically boucing in her chair, grinning mischievously, ready to light fireworks right there on the call. 

“And you’re still telling me you don’t feel anything for her?” Wanda clapped her hands. “Come on, Agatha. You’re totally smitten." 

“You’re an incurable romantic, Wanda. You think everything comes down to love confessions.” 

“Am I wrong?” she straightened up in her chair. “Are you two still not talking?” 

I let out a long sigh. It had been two days since Rio and I had spoken. She was so upset after our fight that she locked herself in her room, sneaking out only to grab blood bags from the fridge. I could hear her slow footsteps crossing the hall at night, but my pride wouldn’t let me be the first to break the silence. 

“Yeah... I even miss her barging into my room.” 

“Then go apologize, you idiot.” 

“Me?” I pointed at myself, outraged. “She should apologize. She’s the one who thought she had the right to interfere with my date.” 

“A date you only went to try to get her out of your head. Stop being stubborn and go apologize. That’s an order, Agatha Harkness!” 

I chuckled, raising an eyebrown. 

“You’re so bossy lately.” 

“Natasha says I need to be more assertive,” she replied proudly. “I’m just practicing. But seriously, someone has to give in. It’s not weakness to be the first to talk.” 

My eyes drifted to the office door. The Avril Lavigne cardboard was staring at me. It had arrived that afternoon, but I hadn’t given to Rio yet. At least it was an excuse to knock on her door.

“I’ll talk to her,” I said at last. Wanda cheered with claps again. “But I’m not promising anything.” 

“Oh, I can already see a romance blooming. I want to hear every detail later.” 

“Fine, nosy. And hey, can you do me a favor? Send me a copy of my first book, Profane Solitude. I looked everywhere in this house, but I think I lost it during the move.” 

“Why the hell do you want that old thing?” 

“Because... I want to reread it,” I deflected. “Just send it, okay? Bye.” 

I hung up, already feeling a little lighter. Venting, even if it was only half the truth, had lifted a huge weight off my chest. Now it was time to deal with the other problem. 

I exchanged a silent look with Avril as I stood up. I tucked the cardboard under my arm and headed upstairs, determined to end this distance between me and my vampire. 

The sun was almost down, so she had to be awake. When I reached her room, the door was ajar. I pushed it gently and stepped inside. The space didn’t had that uninhabited feel anymore. Now it looked like Rio, with her album records and books around the room, a jacket hanging over an armchair. 

But she wasn’t there. 

I set the cardboard by the side of the bed and returned to the hall. That’s when I noticed the attic ladder was down at the end of the hallway. I’d never been up there. I assumed it was just full of old junk I pretended didn’t exist. 

“Rio?” I called, but no responde came. 

Maybe she was testing me. Or maybe she just wanted to be alone. 

I grabbed the side of the wooden ladder and climbed, not sure what I expected to find. The attic was surprsingly clean. A few boxes stacked in the corner, the rest as an empty space. At the far end, a window was wide open, letting the cool evening breeze. 

I approached and peeked through the narrow opening. It barely fit one person at a time, and it felt claustrophobic. 

“Rio?” I called again. 

A few seconds of silence, then the answer came carried by the wind. 

“I’m here.” 

“What are you doing?” My eyes widening sligtly, remembering the last time she’s gotten hurt because of me. “The sun hasn’t completely set.” 

“I’m fine,” she said soflty, almost melancholic. “I just want to watch the sunset.” 

Sadness washed over me. When was the last time Rio had been able to do something as simple as watch the sun go down? 

I braced my knees on the ledge and looked down. The grass seemed far away. If I slipped, would Rio be fast enough to catch me? Better not to test it. Holding the edges firmly, I climbed out the window until one foot found the roof. That’s when I saw her, sitting at the top, her hair tousled by the wind. 

“Give me a hand,” I asked. 

She stood without hesitation, her eyes locked on mine. When her arms wrapped around my waist to pull me up, my breath faltered. I let her guide me to the highest point of the roof, and we sat side by side. 

“Hold on to my shoulder,” Rio demanded. 

I obeyed, my hand resting on her shoulder, steadying me. I followed her gaze to the horizon stretching behind the house, where the last golden rays hid behind the garden and the dark line of the forest. 

We watched in silence until the sun disappeared. 

“It’s not often I get to do this, but today the weather helped. Some heavier clouds gave cover.” 

I didn’t know what to say. My eyes traced her face, the tiny lines around her mouth, detalis that only added to her charm. She looked calm and at peace. I didn’t want to ruin that by bringing up our fight. 

I turned back to the horizon, trying not to lose myself in her. 

“Tell me about the last time you watched the sunset,” I said cautiously. “When you weren’t...” 

“A monster?” 

“You’re not a monster, Rio.” 

She shifted, inching closer. Her hand slid across my back until it rested on my waist, anchoring me. 

“It was in Ireland,” Rio began. “In 1774... maybe 1775. My memory get blurred sometimes, too many years had passed. I wandered through Europe a lot, and I ended up staying there for a while. My room was on the east wing of a castle, facing a river and a clearing. I’d wake up with the sun pouring through the window and the sound of running water. Every night, I’d watch the sun go down. I think it was the happiest time of my existance.” 

“It sounds perfect,” I said as she lowered her head, her expression became heavier. “What happened after?”  

“I met a witch, a very powerful one,” Rio whispered. “She taught me much, but she took much more from me.” 

Part of me already knew who she was talking about, but I needed to hear it from her lips. 

“It was Hela, wasn’t it? She’s the one who turned you.” 

A single tear slid down Rio’s face. I reached out and gently wiped it away. 

“Yeah, it was Hela.” 

“Why? Why would she do that to you?” 

Rio took a deep breath, running the back of her hand over her eyes, trying to compose herself. 

“Hela was always obsessed with the idea of eternity. She wanted to live forever, stay young forever. So she started experimenting. Soon, word spread that a necromancer was hunting immortality. Desperate people started showing up, offering themselves willingly.” Rio shook her head lightly, she seemed in pain just by remembering. “At first, all the experiments failed. Then she decided to try with someone who wasn’t entirely human.” 

My eyes widened. Rio’s fingers squeezed my waist firmly. She gave me a quick look, gauging my reaction. 

“You were a witch,” I whispered. 

Rio nodded. 

“I was a green witch,” she continued, her voice so heavy I instinctively grabbed her hand. “When Hela turned me, it was like she ripped me apart from inside. Like she shoved her hand in my chest and tore away everything that made me whole. My connection to nature, my magic, my essence. All gone. I felt life leaving me while it happened.” Rio’s eyes drifted back to the horizon. “Everything in life has a cycle. Birth, growth, death. It’s the natural order. No one should live as long as I have.” 

Words failed me. What could I possibly say? I’m sorry felt too small. Everything that woman stole from Rio, everything she destroyed... Before, I’d only felt fear of Hela. Now there was a fire of anger burning in my chest. 

“Aggie...” my nickname fell from her lips, pulling my gaze back to her. “You’re crushing my hand. I’d complain about the pain, but I like your touch on me.” 

Only then I noticed my nails digging into her skin. 

“Sorry.” I murmured, loosening my grip. “Thank you, for trusting me enough to tell me.” 

“It’s fine. It’s good for you to know the whole story.” 

My eyes wandered to the blooming garden below. Now I understood why that corner of the house was so special to her. It was the only place where Rio still cultivated life, even while surrounded by darkness. 

“That garden. Did you always did that? Even before?” 

“Since I was a child,” Rio replied. I turned to her, surprised. She noticed and let out a mocking laugh. “What? Did you think I didn’t have a family?” 

Honestly, I’d never thought about that side of Rio. I’d always pictured her as the grumpy vampire I’d met, frozen in time. 

“I guess I didn’t thought about it.” I admitted, shamely. 

“Well, I did have one. A mother and two younger brothers. Never knew my father. I grew up in Puerto Rico...” she paused to think. “1583, maybe. My mother was a healer, treated anyone who was sick. One time, she saved my brother from a fever. Back then, that was practically a miracle. She taught me how to work with plants, how to explore my gifts.” 

She leaned her shoulder against mine. 

“I was happy, for a while.” Rio’s voice lost its lightness. “My brothers eventually died, and my mother fell into a catatonic state. Nothing I did worked. My magic wasn’t strong enough yet. When there was nothing left for me there, I started to travel around the world.” 

This time, I couldn’t hold it back. A sob escaped, and the tears followed. 

“I’m so sorry, Rio. For everything you went through... it doesn’t even come close, but it’s all I can say.” 

“Hey, come here.” She pulled me into a protective embrance. “You don’t have to be sorry. I told you this because, after a long time, I finally felt safe enough to share it with someone. I don’t want you to pity me.” 

“It’s not pity, it’s just that...” I touched the collar of her shirt, idly playing with the fabric. “Now I feel even worse for the way I treated you. I’m sorry for calling you lunatic. You’re not. You risked your life because you thought I was in danger, and I repaid you by being an idiot.” 

Rio pressed her lips to my hair, letting out a low laugh that vibrated through my whole body. 

“I brooded over it for a few days, but I already forgave you.” 

“Really?” I lifted my eyes, searching for any hesitation in her. Rio only nodded. I moved closer, burying my face in her neck. “Thank you.” 

“But you also have to forgive me.” Rio said. I lifted my face again, and she had a mischievous smile on her lips. “I might have felt just a little jealous when I saw you with that guy.” 

The air between us frow warmer. Rio tilted her face slowly, her gaze flicking down to my lips before meeting my eyes again. For a second, I got lost in the thought of what might happen if I closed the distance. 

At the very last moment, my hand found Rio’s shoulder and I pushed her away. 

“We can’t do this, Rio.” 

“Why not?” she asked, hurt. 

I forced myself to meet her brown eyes, so full of longing and desire and all the things I was feeling too. 

“Because things are messy enough without us being involved. Witches, vampires, a magical house.” I brushed my fingers softly against her cheek. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t want to add another complication to the list of already complicated things if it doesn’t work out. Do you understand?” 

I thought Rio would launch into a fiery speech, try to argue, throw it back at me that I was being a coward. But she only pressed a kiss to my hand in acceptance, then helped me down from the roof. 

Chapter Text

“Let’s begin.” I dropped the heavy book onto the desk. Rio, sunk into the armchair, raised a curious eyebrow. “This is a copy of my first published book. Wanda send it to me.” 

“Who’s Wanda?” her voice came laced with bitterness. 

“My friend, Rio.” 

“Hm... Just friend?” she pressed. 

“Yes, my best friend. Nothing more.” I crossed my arms. “I thought we had an agreement.” 

“Just because you don’t want to give in to the attraction between us, doesn’t mean I’m going to magically stop feeling jealous.” 

I sank back into the chair as well, exhaling. Since our talk on the roof, things had returned to normal in a strange way. Rio was still nosy, sarcastic, and prone to invade my personal space whenever possible. The difference was that now there was this unspoken admission that we were attracted to each other. There was also a faint thread of feeling there, delicate, but I refused to pull at it to see how far it went. 

“Can we focus on the book?” I asked, cutting off the subject. 

Rio shrugged. 

“What’s your book about?” she started flipping throught the pages. 

“The content doesn’t matter. It was my first publication, and a failure. If I could erase it from my biography, I would.” I muttered. “Go to page one hundred and seventy-nine.” 

She obeyed and, for a few seconds, just stared at the symbol on the indicated page. It was a rough drawing of a central circle from which five sharp lines branched out, connecting to smaller figures representing the elements. Earth, water, fire, air, and spirit. The strokes were dense, carrying the same harsh energy as the runes carved into the walls of the house. 

Rio frowned and lifted her face at me. 

“When did you do this?” 

“The book came out about ten years ago, but I drew that when I was still a teenager. Do you think it means something?” 

“It might.” Rio placed the book back on the desk. She leaned against the armchair, watching me with a suspicious gaze. “Did you ever felt any magical interference before moving to Westview? Think carefully. I know you were skeptical, but try to remember if anything ever felt out of place, even before discovering all this.” 

I forced my memory, pulling at forgotten fragments. Aunt Lilia’s stories. The disturbing nightmares I used to have. The sleep paralysis during my marriage. And then... 

“There’s something, but I don’t know if it was real.” I admitted hesitantly. 

“Tell me. Don’t give me that ‘maybe it was madness’ excuse. I promise you, for me it won’t be.” 

“I was married to an idiot who cheated on me,” I began. Rio whispered something in spanish, too low for me to understand, but the tone made it clear it wasn’t a compliment. “Anyway. When I found out, I asked for a divorce. It was right around the time Lilia died. I was vulnerable, more sensitive than usual. Maybe that made me susceptible. I always had sleep paralysis when I was married to Ralph, my brain never shut off around him. After I left that house, I stayed at Wanda’s for a while. Her place always gave me chills. Almost every night I woke with the feeling that someone was calling me.” 

Rio stayed silent, absorbing every detail I had shared. Then she stood, crossed the office, and began rummaging through the shelves, pulling grimoires out in a rush. 

“Did you heard any specific voice?” she took one grimoire in specific and started flipping through it. “Someone you might have know?” 

“Are you asking if I heard Lilia calling me from the grave?” I asked, incredulous. Rio only looked at me as if that were the most normal thing in the world. “Rio, that’s...” 

“Impossible? As impossible as having a vampire sleeping in the next room?” 

The retoric disarmed me. She was right. My skeptical, methodical, organized way of seeing the world no longer applied within those walls. It was about time I accepted that. 

“So?” Rio turned her body toward me, the grimoire balanced in her arms. 

“It wasn’t my aunt, but it was a woman’s voice. Ancient. As if it didn’t belong to this time.” 

Rio walked to the desk and set the grimoire open before me. The illustration showed a coven of witches gathered inside a circle, the five elements interconnected by the same rough lines I had drawn. At the bottom of the page, a spell in latin followed by the date. Salem, during the witch trials. I touched the page with my fingertips, afraid the paper would crumble. 

“Your aunt never showed you this?” Rio asked. I shook my head immediately. “Are you sure? Maybe you saw it and forgot, and your mind just reproduced it years later.” 

“I never saw this before.” I lifted my gaze to meet hers. “I swear. Lilia never showed me.” 

Rio let out a heavy sigh and sank back into the armchair. 

“Do you know anything about this?” I pointed at the drawing. “You crossed paths with them in Salem, didn’t you?” 

“It was just before I arrived there, but Lilia told me what happened.” Rio clasped her hand over her knee and adjusted her posture. “When the executions began, Evanora went into a frenzy to protect the coven. She tried to create a rune to communicate with the ancestor of your family and absorb their power. It didn’t worked. Without a runemaker, it was like trying to speak to a ghost without knowing the language. It only left the Harkness women more exposed to the hunters.” 

“And then you showed up.” 

“And then I showed up.” Rio confirmed with a slight shrug. “Evanora refused my help. Damn bigot. She didn’t trusted anyone without ‘Harkness’ as a last name. I won’t pretend I wept when she burned at the stake. If she had survived, she would’ve dragged your aunt and the others to ruin.” 

I leaned over the drawing, analyzing each figure. The central one drew the most attention. Long gray hair, a black cloak flowing down to her feet, hollow eyes marked by dark circles. 

“If it wasn’t my aunt’s voice I heard...” I said uncertainly, my finger tracing the outline of the figure. “Do you think it could have been Evanora?” 

“It’s possible. It only strengthens my suspicion that you’re a runemaker. Maybe she wanted to teach you something, or maybe she wanted you to finish what she couldn’t. The rune might not have worked for her, but it could with you.” 

I narrowed my eyes at her. 

“Since when did you become my biggest supporter?” 

“Since I saw this drawing.” She stood, circled the desk, and stopped beside me. The closeness made my skin prickle. “Do you realize what you could do with the power of an entire coven at your side?” 

“I don’t know, Rio. One moment I can barely light a candle, the next I’m turning the house upside down because of a PMS. My magic is chaos. I can barely control my own tears.” 

“You’re still learning. It’s normal to have instability.” She rested a hand on my shoulder. “But the more powerful you become, absorving the strength of the Harkness lineage, you could even...” 

Her words trailed off. Rio looked away from me. 

“I could what?” 

“You could even defeat Hela,” Rio whispered. “And then we could leave this place.” 

The floor trembled beneath my feet, forcing me to clutch the desk. A scream tore through the air from the depths below, as guttural as in the night I renewed the runes. When the tremor ceased, I slammed the grimoire shut and shoved it back on the shelf. 

“No! No! No!” My voice came out louder and panic coursed through my veins, fueled as much by fear of that necromancer witch as by the certainty that I had no control for something like this. “I don’t have the skill to face Hela. We’ll stick to the plan. Just like you and my aunt did.” 

“And then?” Rio was already at my side again, pulling the grimoire back. “Another hundred and fifty years in this prison? And what if you never have a descendant? What do I do when... when you inevitably die and the Harkness line ends? Am I supposed to keeping fighting with that cursed woman for the rest of my eternity?” 

In one swift move, Rio spun me around and pressed me against the nearest shelf. The grimoire slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a thud. My breath hitched, like it always did when the space between us vanished. 

“I don’t want to think about your death,” she confessed, her voice low. “But I do. Every day. Your mortality is like a clock ticking in my head, reminding me that Hela won’t stay imprisoned forever. Eventually, we’ll have to find another way.” 

“So what are you proposing?” 

Rio stepped back, leaving me longing for her closeness. She retrieved the grimoire, reopened it to the drawing, and turned it for me to see. 

“We’ll work on this rune. A little each day, until you get it right. Until you can communicate with you ancestors.” 

“And then what, Rio?” I asked, a trace of desperation clinging to my voice. “I’ll undo the protection on the house? Free Hela and fight her? What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m not strong enough? What if I lose, and she’s free to torment you again?” 

Rio went still for a moment, her expression closed, unreadable. 

“You’re worried about what might happen to me?” she finally said, a hint of arrogance lacing her tone. “Careful, Aggie. I might start thinking you’re not so set on keeping things strictly platonic with me.” 

I scoffed, trying to mask the heat rising in my cheeks. 

“Shut up,” I muttered hastily. “We’ll try this crazy plan of yours to talk to my ancestors, but I’m not agreeing to freeing Hela or some epic witch battle you’re imagining. That’s a huge step and completely out of the question for now. Got it?” 

“Yes, ma’am!” Rio snapped an exaggerated salute, pulling a short, involuntary laugh for me. 

We began moving the furniture around the office, clearing the center of the floor. Rio marked the wood floor with chalk, tracing the grimoire’s symbol, and placed a candle at each point. I switch off the lights, letting the space sink into shadows. We sat inside the circle, cross-legged, with the grimoire open beside us. 

“Don’t joke or laugh at me,” I warned as I hold her hand. “It’s really discouraging when you do that.” 

“I won’t. I’m sorry.” 

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to expel every thought that wasn’t magic pulsing around us. Slowly, a shiver climbed from the base of my spine. A familiar sign now that my magic was responding to my focus. When I opened my eyes, the candles already burned with steady flames, and Rio was watching me with a complicit smile. 

“You’re getting better,” she encouraged. 

I gave her a shy smile, glancing at the grimoire. I tried to focus on the text, but anxiety crept back in. Being a runemaker should give me some advantage with languages, yet latin still loomed like a towering wall. Reapeting the words without knowing their meaning felt wrong. 

“Can you translate?” 

Rio nodded and pulled the grimoire closer. 

“Vocem antiquam ex umbra voco. I summon an ancient voice from the shadows,” she began, line by line, meeting my gaze between phrases. “Verbo sanguinis pontem locabo. With a word of blood, I will build a bridge. Veniant memoriae, loquantur veritas. Let memories come, let the truth speak. Solum dignae vocem capiant. Only the worthy shall raise their voice.” 

“Okay... I can do this.” I said, more to convince myself than her. 

I noticed my trembling hand between Rio’s. She gave it a soft squeeze, and our eyes met for an instant that lasted longer than it should have. 

“It’s okay if it doesn’t work on the first try.” 

I began to recite the spell. Nothing happened. Not a spark, not a breath of wind. This time, Rio didn’t tease me or try to stir an emotional reaction. She just stayed there, her hand steady on mine. Time dragged on until my voice faltered and the urge to give up nearly won. I opened my mouth to say just that, but Rio lifted her finger and silenced me. 

“I want to try something different.” She stood up, grabbed the hem of her shirt and began pulling it upward. 

“Wait! What are you doing?!” I covered my eyes the second I caught sight of her bare stomach. “Are you going to strip? How is that supposed to help me?” 

“Don’t be such a prude,” I felt Rio’s cold fingers catch my wrist and pull my hands away from my face. 

I didn’t have much choice but to look. My gaze roamed over her belly and the black lace bra barely covering her breasts. Heat climbed from my stomach to my face, and this time, it had nothing to do with magic. Or maybe it did, if attraction counted as witchcraft. I turned my head aside, pretending to be much more interested in the open grimoire than in the half-naked vampire. 

“Care to explain?” my voice came out unsteady. 

Rio lay down in the center of the circle, her eyes locked on mine. 

“My body is still made of magic. My vampiric nature was born from a necromancer’s spell.” Rio explained, but my eyes betrayed my effort to focus, darting back to her belly and dragging a nervous sigh from me. “Flesh, bones, blood, and magic. You can channel straight from me.” 

“I...” my voice faltered, batlling between desire and caution. “Are you sure? What if I hurt you by accident?” 

“Who says I won’t enjoy it?” Ruo chuckled wickedly, and I felt my face flame even more. ”I’m kidding. You won’t hurt me, I trust you. Now, put your hands on my body.” 

My fingers settled on Rio’s cold skin, sliding down over her stomach. She shifted, gaze flicking to some unseen spot on the ceiling. I could swear she was just as nervous as I was. 

I shut my eyes again, letting the rest of the world fade. And then I felt everything. The air around us vibrated with every particle dancing. Rio’s sweet essence filled the office. The pounding of my heart became a drum, keeping the rhythm. I began reciting the words, but unlike the night I renewed the runes, when the spell flowed smoother with every repetition, this one only grew heavier. Each syllable demanded more of me, yet I pressed on. 

When I opened my eyes, I saw the circle filling with the same purple light as the other runes. 

“Keep going.” Rio’s voice was low but firm. 

She brushed my wrist lightly, just enough to reming me I wasn’t alone. The suspended dust particles in the air began clustering, swirling, trying to take shape. The more I repeated the words, the clearer the figure became. First a shadow, then Aunt’s Lilia extravagant clothes and glorious hair, all wrapped in a pale glow. She looked both there and not there at once. 

“Don’t stop, Aggie.” Rio murmured, and it was a good thing she did. I had been just about to let got and run to Lilia. 

My aunt gave me a small smile, and for a second it was as if nothing had changed. The same lines of expression, the same warm gaze. Before I could say anything, she whipped her head around sharply. There was nothing there. At least, nothing I could see. Only the hallway leading to the living room. 

When Lilia looked back at me, the smile was gone. Her eyes were serious and heavy. 

“Do not trust her.” 

The phrase echoed through the office as her form scattered to dust, and the symbol on the floor went dark. 

My breathing was shallow now. Not trust who? Rio? That made no sense. Lilia had sent me to her, left a clear letter telling me to care for the vampire. Now she was saying not to trust her? She must’ve meant someone else. She had to. 

The idea of not trusting Rio simple didn’t fit in my head. She was the only one guiding me through the mess my life had become. 

“You okay?” Rio’s voice pulled me back. She got up and started put her shirt back on. “That was great, Aggie.” 

Not even the irritating nickname bothered me. I was still trying to process what had just happened. 

“You...” I tried to speak, but my body failed. My shoulder sagged, and in an instant she was at my side, holding me before I collapsed. When I steadied, the world stopped spinning and my breath returned to normal. 

“Better?” 

I nodded. 

“Yeah.” I walked to the chair with her help and sat. “Did you heard what Lilia said?” 

“I did. I just hope you don’t think she was talking about me.” When I didn’t answer immediately, Rio leaned over the desk. “Agatha! You don’t think she was talking about me, do you?” 

“What?! No, no. Of course not.” 

Rio narrowed her eyes, studying my reaction. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I don’t think is was about you, Rio.” I tried to keep my voice firm, but doubt still gnawed at me. “I just don’t understand what Lilia meant.” 

“We’ll find out.” She straightened and crossed her arms. “Something scared her, that’s why it was so quick. It was just a first contact, and you did well. Now, try to get some rest. You pushed yourself too hard today.” 

Without waiting for an answer, Rio left the office. 

I stayed there staring at the closed grimoire, my aunt’s words still echoing in my head. 

Chapter Text

That night, sleep simply wouldn’t come. I tossed and turned so many times in bed that I lost track of the hours. My mind refused to shut down, replaying Lilia’s message. 

Do not trust her. 

The more those words echoed, the more I began to doubt Rio, even with no apparent reason. She was the same as always, if not more attentive after our magic session this afternoon. She had even brought me tea with cookies again, which was quickly becoming a ritual between us. 

In the end, I had to take a sedative to finally feel my body relax into the matress. But rest didn’t come for free. As soon as I closed my eyes, my own mind started to play games with me. First, throwing me into scenes from my own books, making me live the nightmares I myself had written. Then, trapping me in a distorted version of the house. 

I knew I was dreaming because everything felt wrong. It was a grim caricature of the place I was beginning to call home. I passed by Rio’s room, but there was no Avril cardboard nor the records hanging on the walls. I tried to look out the windows, but outside there was nothing. It looked like the house had been ripped from the ground and thrown into the middle of a dark, endless void. 

I went to the hallway windows, but I found the same result. Nothing but nothingness. I went back to my room and tried the balcony, but neither Rio’s garden nor the backyard existed. 

On the stairs, I noticed the wood was rotten, threatening to give away at every step. The railing was covered in rust, and the same rusty tone seemed to have infected all the furniture. The entire house gave off a sense of abandonment. 

The basement door was ajar, and the small hallway leading there plunged into darkness. I stepped into the gloom, grabbing the wall as I descended the steps, searching for the light switch. When I finally found it, I flicked twice, but nothing happened. The darkness remained dense until a pair of red eyes appeared in the void. 

“Rio?” I whispered. 

No answer. 

Little by little, she came into view. Her pupils swallowed by a bright red, the rest of her eyes stained black, veins bulging on her face. Her fangs slipped out between her lips. There was no warmth in her gaze, no sarcastic smile. I had never seen Rio like this. So hungry. So far from herself. 

“Rio?” I called again, but she only kept coming at me. 

In a quick movement, she pushed me against the cold stone wall. The impact knocked the air out of me, and I tried to shrink into myself. Rio’s hand slid to my chin and held it with a force she had never used on me before. 

“You’re scaring me,” my voice came out low and shaky. I placed my hands on her shoulders, trying to push her away, but my strength was nothing against a vampire. 

Rio brought her face close to mine, her fangs grazed across my skin, from cheek to neck, causing an uncomfortable shiver. Before I could react, I felt the bite. Deep, painful, slicing my skin. Instinct made me struggle, push, hit, but nothing worked. What held my body was no longer the woman I knew, but something older and wilder. 

As life seemed to drain from me, a ghostly figure appeared behind Rio. A black cloak down to the floor, hollow eyes sunk into dark circles. Evanora. 

“This is what happens when you trust vampires.” Her voice slid to me like a cold whisper. 

A crash of glass and wood breaking in the living room jolted me awake. I brought my hands to my neck, searching for any trace of blood, but the skin was smooth, intact. I looked around, blinking a few times until I understood where I was. Not in the comfort of my bed, where I had fallen asleep, but in the basement. Ever since Rio had moved upstairs, only the rune on the floor keeping the necromancer trapped and the empty coffin remained. 

I looked for Rio, but she wasn’t there. 

“Just a nightmare.” I murmured to myself. 

Then a loud, desperate howl echoed in the air, followed by more breaking glass and claws scraping the floor upstairs. My heart pounded in my chest, a reminder that I was alive, as I climbed the narrow basement stairs into the living room. 

I found the window shattered, wooden latches splintered, the coffe table turned upside down, and the TV ruined by deep claw marks. But none of it compared to what I saw in the center of the room. 

A naked woman standing with a wide smile. 

“Hi!” she said cheerfully, tossing her hair back, scattering strands everywhere. 

I opened my mouth, closed it, opened again. No words made sense in my head. Rio came rushing down the stairs like a rocket and threw herself into the woman’s arms. The two fell to the floor and began rolling around, laughing like teenagers. 

“Alice!” Rio shouted, beaming. 

It took me a second to understand that this must be Rio’s best friend. Which didn’t explain my destroyed living room. Or the complete lack of clothes. 

I waited until the two stopped rolling around and their laughter died down. I cleared my throat, calling the vampire’s attention. Rio shot me an amused look. 

“Oh, this is my friend Alice,” she said, pulling the woman up by the arm until they were both standing. “And Alice, this is Agatha. Last witch of the Harkness bloodline and my betrothed.” 

The two exchanged another round of giggles, this time more contained. I crossed my arms and raised a brow. I’d let this betrothed thing slid off for now.

“Can you explain why your friend is naked in my house?” I asked dryly. I looked around and grimace at the mess. “And why she destroyed my living room?” 

Alice gave a guilty smile, walked over to the couch, and grabbed two cushions, trying to cover herself as best as she could. 

“I take full responsibility.” she finally said. “I can’t control the transformation during the full moon.” 

I pulled my robe tighter around me, as if that would give me any kind of protection. I was still getting used to the idea of being a witch and the existence of vampires. Whatever that means, it was a whole other level. 

“Transformation?” I looked from Alice to Rio, waiting for a explanation that wasn’t what I was imagining. 

“Alice is a werewolf.” Rio said casually, taking off her jacket and handing it to her friend, who gladly accepted it. 

“And you didn’t think it was relevant to tell me?” my voice rose a pitch. 

“You didn’t ask.” Rio replied, just as casually. 

“Do I have to ask, Rio?” 

“Of course. I don’t read minds, Agatha!” she shot back, with that irony that only irritated me more. “What did you think Alice was when I said she hadn’t shown up in forty years?” 

“How would I know?” I threw my hands up. “A witch, another vampire... I didn’t think she was a werewolf who’d tear my whole living room apart! I already have to deal with your weekly destruction, breaking something new and burning my money!” 

Alice was watching us, holding back a laughter, while Rio and I started arguing like an old married couple. 

“Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Ruler-Of-The-World. Next time, I’ll make sure to include the Night Creatures Guide in your reading list!” Rio shouted back. 

Before I could reply, a loud honk, accompanied by cheerful “woohoo!” shouts, came from the street and interrupeted our fight. We both exchanged a surprised look as Alice dropped the cushions and hopped to the door. 

“What now?” I grumbled as Rio and I started following her. 

Alice, not at all concerned that she was wearing only a short jacket, flung the door open. Sure, it was past midnight and my nearest neighbor was miles away, but still. 

“It’s just my girlfriend,” Alice said smiling. Seeing my expression, she quickly corrected herself. “No werewolves or vampires, I promise.” 

“I’m more worried if she’ll wreck the house like you two.” 

Outside, parked right in front, was a pink convertible impossible to ignore, even more under the moonlight. At the wheel, a woman with shaved head, wearing a dress the same color as the car and gliterring gold accessories, waved at us. 

“Babe!” she shouted as soon as she saw Alice. “I brought your clothes!” 

Alice ran straight to the car. The woman tossed her a set of clothes, which Alice caught mid-air and started putting on right there. Moments later, the two kissed so passionately and exaggeratedly that I had to looked away. 

“My God...” 

“Nice!” Rio said approvingly. “She’s pretty.” 

I glanced sideways at the vampire, who was atill admiring the couple. 

“You think she’s pretty?” I tried to sound casual and not show how bothered I was that Rio found another woman attractive. 

“Don’t worry, kitten. I still think you’re prettier.” Rio winked at me and walked through the door, joining them on the sidewalk. 

A satisfied smile slipped out of me. 

After the introductions, I found out the other woman’s name was Jen Kale, a potion witch. That was a relief. I was expecting anything. Fairies, mermaids, elves... But she was a witch. Finally, someone on my team. Maybe I could even learn something from her. Rio, because of her vampiric nature, had limitations on what she could teach me. Having someone to practice might make the process less stressful. 

We gathered in the kitchen, since the cold wind blowing in through the broken living room window was unbearable, and the two visitors started raiding my fridge. I looked at Rio, indignant, but she only gave me that bitter expression she always had when she watched someone eating something she couldn’t. Rio filled a glass with blood and perched on the stool near the counter. 

Alice spoke loudly while chewing a piece of steak, while Jen prepared a mixture of herbs, hot water, and some ingredients she pulled from a small pouch. They were vibrant green sprigs, with an almost palpable energy. When she threw them into the cauldron, the water changed color and began shimmer a celestial blue. 

At least someone had found use for that eyesore. 

“What’s that?” I curiously asked, moving closer to the cauldron. 

“A herbal blend that helps sleep,” Jen explained. “One sip and you’ll pass the whole night without dreams. I always make it for Alice after a transformation.” 

I nodded with a low hum, but my mind had already gone back to the nightmare. I had woken up so suddenly, and with everything that followed, I barely had time to think about what it really meant. 

“Does this tea have any side effects?” 

“It has a bit of an aphrodisiac kick,” Jen gave a mischievous laugh. “So the hours after waking up tend to be lively, if you know what I mean.” 

“Oh, right.” I forced an awkward laugh. Okay, I could deal with aphrodisiac. I mean, how much effect could a tea really have? “Mind if I drink some? I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” 

“Of course. Just make sure you’ve got Rio nearby.” 

“What?!” I practically yelled. Alice and Rio, who had been whispering on the other side of the kitchen, turned to stare at us. I pushed my hair behind my ears and lowered my voice. “Rio and I are just friends.” 

Jen leaned in and whispered. 

“Then why does it look like she wants to devour you?” 

I looked back. Alice had already gone back to chattering, but Rio was still watching me. 

“Can I drink this stuff or not?” 

“Okay, cranky.” Jen poured the tea into a glass and slid it toward me. “But don’t say I didn’t warned you.” 

I held the glass with one hand, pinched my nose with the other, and downed the liquid in one go. At first, nothing happened. I stood up and walked to the counter, sitting next to Rio. She greeted me with a slow smile and pulled the stool closer so I’d be right beside her. 

“How did you two meet?” Rio asked Alice. “I want to know everything. I missed you like crazy.” 

“It was in 2005, at a Britney Spears concert.” Jen answered. 

Rio gave me a confused look, asking for context. 

“Pop star. Huge in the early 2000s. If you like Madonna, you’ll like Britney.” I answered. 

Rio gave my thigh a light squeeze and went back to listening to Alice and Jen, though every so often she brushed her leg against mine. 

“I was about to come back to Westview, bring you some gifts and a magical little thing called a DVD, but then my path crossed with this beauty,” Alice whistled and Jen spun on her heels, showing off a smug grin. “And I ended up losing track of time. Sorry.” 

“That’s fine. Besides, Agatha introduced me to streaming and now I even have a cellphone.” Rio pulled the phone from her pocket and unlocked the screen to show Alice. As she turned the phone, I saw that the wallpaper was a picture of me drooling on her shoulder. 

“What the hell is that, Rio?!” I asked, horrified. 

“This?” she shook the phone in front of me. “That was the night we watched Twilight. I called it ‘The Grumpy Bella Swan’, because you’re my Bella and, well, you’re grumpy.” 

The kitchen erupted in laughter. Alice almost spilled her tea, Jen pounded the counter, and Rio seemed to fed off from my embarrassment. 

“I’m your what?!” I said, muffling my voice as I hid my face in my hands. 

“My Bella.” Rio repeated. “And I’m your Edward. The only difference is that I don’t sparkle in the sun, unfortunately.” 

I let myself be swept into the joke and ended up laughing along with them. Rio slipped her arm around my waist, easing some of the tension in my body. Or maybe it was the tea, which seemed to finally be kicking in. All I know is that, a few minutes later, when the conversation had already moved on to other topics, I barely felt the weight of my feet and my mind seemed to float, slightly unfocused. 

“Did you hear that, Aggie?” Rio caught my attention, but I had no idea what she was talking about. I looked at her with a goofy smile and I swore there was a glow around the vampire. 

“What?” my voice came out slow. 

“I asked if Alice and Jen can stay here for a few days. In one of the spare guest rooms.” 

I turned my gaze to the two of them and started laughing to myself, at some joke apparently only my sleepy brain understood. 

“You should take her to bed, Rio.” Jen suggested. “She’s going to pass out any second.” 

I didn’t protest when Rio scooped me up. It felt like I was being carryied by a soft cloud. I rested my head on Rio’s shoulder as we climbed the stairs. On an impulse, I brought my fingers to her lips and slowly traced their outline. 

“I think you’re pretty too.” I murmured, before drifting into sleep. 

Chapter Text

The heat that spread from my belly through the rest of my body made me shift in bed. I opened my eyes slowly and let he room come into focus. Some stubborn rays of sun escaped through the gap in the curtains, announcing that the day had already begun. I turned my head and found the vampire asleep in the armchair, curlep up so that no shaft of light would touch her skin. Scratchy was nestled in her lap, also asleep. 

Gradually, the previous night returned to my memory. The strange nightmare, the ruined living room, Alice and Jen, that fucking tea. Soothing properties, my ass. I mean, it was relaxing. But there was nothing mystical about mixing weed with magical herbs. 

It worked, I couldn’t deny that. I slept like I hadn’t in years. No voices of ancient witches, no sleep paralysis. 

I grabbed the sheets, wanting to pull them up and prolong the comfortable feeling for a few more minutes. Only then did I notice the thin fabric agains my skin, brushing lightly between my legs and over my breasts. I sat up in a jolt, covering myself to my neck so nothing was exposed beyond what was necessary. My clothes were all scattered on the floor.

I looked at the vampire, suspicious, but she was still sleeping, and fully dressed.  

I grabbed a pillow, took careful aim and flung it at her rumpled face. Rio woke with a start, throwing her body back. The armchair lost its balance and toppled, sending Scratchy leaping from Rio’s lap and darting under the bed. Rio hit the floor, and a groan escaped her lips as her legs swung in the air. 

“What’s with all this violence, Aggie?” her head popped up from behind the armchair, staring at me with sleepy eyes. 

“What happened last night, you idiot?” 

Rio got up slowly, avoiding the sunbeams, righted the armchair and sat back down. She still seemed to have the same glow as the night before. My eyes fell on her long fingers resting on the arm of the chair. For I second, I imagined the feel of them inside me and my body reacted immediately. I had to cross my legs. 

Rio noticed what was happening. A sly smile appeared on her lips. 

“Alice showed up, you freaked out.” She began, her voice lazy. “And you took a potion from Jen. Then I brought you to your room. You said I was beautiful. The sexiest woman to ever cross your path and that you’re completely in love with me.” 

I grabbed another pillow and threw it at her again. This time Rio dodged and her laugh filled the room. 

“I remember that part. And none of that is what I said.” I retorted, pointing to my clothes on the floor. “I’m talking about this.” 

“Oh, that’s not my fault.” Rio defended herself quickly, raising her hands. “After I put you in bed, you started writhing like a cat in heat and took off your own clothes. I just covered you and stood guard. That’s it. I didn’t saw anything, I swear.” 

I nodded slowly, lying back down with my eyes fixed on the canopy above the bed. A breath of wind announced her presence and Rio invaded my field of vision. 

“That tea’s pretty strong.” She commented casually, but the mischievous smile at the corner of her mouth gave her intentions away. “If you need help with anything, just ask.” 

If I had more pillows, I would have hurled them all at her. 

“Get out of my room, Rio.” I tried to sound firm while I pressed my legs together. The heat between them was starting to annoy me. 

“Suit yourself.” Rio murmured, retreating. 

The door slammed and she left me alone. 

I closed my eyes and my mind ran straight to the night I saw Rio for the first time. Her body over me, her thighs pressed around my arms. I turned in bed, trying to push away the desire that seemed to run through my veins. 

My fingers climbed to my breast, touching them lightly. My nipples were already hard, my body responded even before I decided. I massaged them a little more, and a low moan escaped my lips. 

The other hand slid slowly down between my legs until I found the spot I wanted. I stopped two fingers just above my clit, close enough to feel how wet I was. I lean my fingers slowly, parting my folds and stroking with slow movements. A shiver ran through my skin. In my mind, new images of Rio formed without ceasing. The weight of her body on mine, the way her lips always seemed dangerously close. 

With each stroke, more moans escaped my mouth. My body tensed, my breath shortened, until I turned my face into the mattress to muffle the sound when my orgasm make my muscles tremble. I let out one last moan, and her name still echoed in my head. 

I stayed there for a few seconds, completely limp, sunk into the sheets. I stared at my fingers with heavy breathing, wanting more than anything for it to have been Rio who had brought me to that moment. 

Fuck. I still wanted more. 

Okay, Agatha. Cold shower, now! 

I got up and went straight to the bathroom, set the shower to the coldest water I could and slid under it, feeling the icy shock run over my skin. I stayed there a long time, until the heat of my body began to dissipate and the image of Rio faded from my thoughts. 

I left the shower and dressed for the day, crossed the hallway and passed the locked door to Rio’s room. Thank goodness. I couldn’t face the vampire after having an orgasm while thinking of her. 

Before I even reached the first floor, the smell of frying bacon hit me, followed by the fresh scent of orange juice. How good it was to have other people in the house who actually ate food. 

I passed through the living room, and the shattered window was an unpleasent reminder that I’d need to call Bucky to fix it. After the last disastrous encounter with him, all I wanted was distance. But apparently, fate was really determined to put us side by side again. 

I dragged my feet to the kitchen and found Alice in front of the stove, stirring something in the pan while a pop song escaped from the phone propped on the counter. She hummed along the rhythm, swaying her shoulders. 

“Morning,” I announced myself. 

Alice turned with a smile so wide dimples appeared. In a literal leap, she was in front of me. At this point, I should have been used to the peculiarities of supernatural creatures, but I was still surprised when her thin body collided with mine and she lifted me off the floor, spining around. 

“Morning, Agatha!” she sang, radiant. That seemed to be her default setting, upbeat and jovial. A striking contrast to Rio, who was always complaining and carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. I still didn’t understand how such different creatures could be friends. 

“Can you put me down, you crazy werewolf?” I slowly regained my balance as she set me down. I leaned against the counter, waiting for the dizziness to pass. “Are you always like this?” 

“Sorry, I’m just excited to be back in Westview.” 

Westview. The town where sanity comes to die. They should put that on the welcome sign. 

Alice returned to the stove, turned off the flame and began plating breakfast into three dishes. I pulled up a stool and sat at the counter, watching as she sat a plate in front of me along with a glass of orange juice. 

“Jen’s finishing her yoga. She likes to do it in the morning, outdoors.” Alice pointed to the open kitchen door that looked out onto Rio’s garden. From where I was, I could see Jen in the middle of the yard, streching into positions I didn’t even know a human body was capable of. “She’ll join us soon.” 

Alice sat beside me and we began to eat. 

“How long do you two plan to stay?” I asked after a few minutes of silence. 

“I don’t know.” She replied, taking sip of juice. She shot me a quick glance with a trace of worry before swallowing. “Do you want us to leave? It’s your home, we can pack our things.” 

“No!” I said quickly. “That’s not the impression I wanted to give. Actually, I think it’s good you’re here. I’ve never seen Rio so happy and relaxed as last night when she was with you. I... I can’t make her calm like that.” 

“Well, you did get her out of the basement.” Alice observed, with a smile of approval. “That’s already quite an achievement.” 

“Still, she always seems to be looking over her shoulder. Always searching for enemies.” 

“That’s because she’s always searching for enemies.” For the first time since I met Alice, her smile vanished. “Rio is naturally suspicious.” 

“Because Hela turned her.” I concluded. 

“Not only because of that. Yes, Hela turned her, and that left deep marks. But the story didn’t end there.” 

I rested my elbows on the counter, paying attention to what Alice had to say. Rio had told me about the time in Salem and that Hela turned her in Ireland before she came to Westview. But if I stopped to think, there was almost a century-long gap between the transformation and the pact. The vampire had never told me what happened in that time. 

“Is there more?” I asked eagerly. 

Alice stared at me, trying to gauge my trustworthiness. Finally, she shrugged and began to speak. 

“After Hela turned her, anything that existed between them ended there. Rio ran across Europe, never staying in a place for more than a few days. It went on like that for years. Stories began to appear about a creature who sucked the victim’s blood and left them unrecognizable. And from that, came the myth of the vampire. The terrors Rio spread wherever she went. In one of those escapes, the two of us met. It wasn’t exactly love at first sight.” 

I felt a discomforte rise in my chest, but remained silent. 

“At that time, the necromancer’s fame had already swept the continent. That madwoman had discovered how to turn humans into vampires. I hated those creatures, but in time I realize Rio was different. What I found wasn’t a monster from the stories, but a woman shattered by guilt and remorse.” Alice gave me a hal-smile and her voice became softer. “Rio wanted to stop, so I helped her. We stole blood bags where we could, and she only drank from someone if it was consensual. While I helped control her hunger, Rio helped me tame the wolf inside me. It was during that time we learned Hela was assembling an army. Vampires, witches, werewolves. Any night creature she could control.” 

“Rio told me that part.” I whispered, trying not to show how much I was processing. “Hela wanted to plunge the world into darkness, or something like that.” 

“And she wanted her lover by her side.” Alice said, and I had to suppress the disgust in my face. “Hela never got over Rio leaving her, and hunted her all that time. When we saw the army with our own eyes, Rio said she had witch friends in America who could help. I stayed in Europe, and she came back here.” 

I took a deep breath, but my mind was stuck on something else. Rio before me, before Westview, with someone who wanted her so much it was willing to cross continents to have her back. 

How could I compete with that kind of love? Houd could I compete with so much power? How could I match a woman who, in the past, was everything to Rio and, on top of that, had the power to turn witches into vampires? 

And, at the same time, how could I condemn Rio to remain trapped in this house forever? I had no descendents to carry on the Harkness line, no one to keep the pact after I was gone. Was it already too late to have a child? And even if it wasn’t, what kind of cruel mother would do that just to fulfill an selfish purpose? That wasn’t the person I wanted to become. 

Still, the fact was simple. Hela would be freed one day. And the idea of her tormenting Rio, or worse, seeing the two of them together, ate at me from the inside. 

I needed to find a way to destroy Hela, and bury any space she might have in Rio’s heart for good. Even if that meant consuming the last drop of magic in my lineage.