In spite of everything, I found her Dakor irresistibly attractive. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to feel him on me, absorb his power. As if he’d heard my thought, the serpent moved toward me and coiled around my arm. I closed my eyes, exhilarated, and let him slither over me, going up my arm, wrapping around my neck and creeping into my shirt, moving down between my breasts . . . to my belly, right where my scar was. A hiss of excitement shook the serpent, who knew what was lurking there: my Dakor. And yet my baby was there too. The thought snapped me out of it.

  “Gwen.” My eyes flew to hers and, sensing my concern, she summoned her serpent with her mind. What if he didn’t manage to control his instincts? What if he’d detected Evan’s genes in my baby?

  Cautiously, Ginevra slipped her hand under my shirt as I stood still. The serpent coiled around her arm and slithered up to her neck, staring at me intently. “Don’t worry. The baby isn’t running any risk,” she assured me, but I’d already forgotten every concern as my eyes fused with the animal’s. They were so hypnotic and powerful, as though they hid some dark, fascinating, mysterious energy, the door to a magical place full of promises.

  I was burning up. “That’s enough for today,” Ginevra said softly.

  I looked at her, still dazed but free from the Dakor’s spell. “Why did you bring me here?” I asked.

  She put her Dakor back into his nest and the branches sealed up around him. “There’s too much power in you, Gemma. You might be able to learn to control it, though, a little at a time. I’ll help you.”

  “Do you think it’ll make it easier to resist the transformation? That it won’t obliterate me?”

  “It’s possible. We can at least try. Your body is slowly getting accustomed to it. You used to end up unconscious for days when the Witches established contact, and now your fever doesn’t run nearly as high as it used to. Maybe your mind can get used to it too.”

  She was right. I nodded, grateful for her precious help. “What was your transformation like?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t so attached to my life. I wanted to slaughter everyone. Back then, my power awoke on Earth and the Sisters sensed it. They began to invade my dreams, tempting me with their promises, and I was happy to listen to them. When the time for my transformation came, I had no doubt about the choice I would make. I wanted to be like them, to be with them. And that was what happened, just like it had with all the others, one every five hundred years. With you, though, everything was different right from the start. The process began long before it was expected to. Your proximity to me and to the Subterraneans awakened your power. When you ingested the poison to kill the guy we thought was Drake, the transformation began and things got worse and worse. We all changed from mortals into Witches in a single night, whereas you’re transforming slowly. And with every passing day you grow more powerful.”

  “You think that might help me avoid losing myself, don’t you?”

  “A gradual process might be less invasive than a more drastic one, but that’s just my hope.”

  “What effect will the Bond have on me?”

  “The Bond is an unbreakable force that will connect you to the Sisters. It compels you to protect and defend them. It’s all of you against the world, and nothing can break it.” Ginevra still suffered from being away from her Sisters.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, following her up a hill.

  “Let’s stay here for a while, if you don’t have other plans.” She helped me climb onto a rock and a huge valley opened up before us, taking my breath away.

  “No plans,” I whispered, hypnotized by the incredible landscape. Ginevra laughed and motioned for me to join her, sitting on the summit of the peak and leaning back against a large tree. It seemed like the whole world was spread out below us.

  “What do you think?” she asked excitedly.

  “It’s breathtaking.”

  Something moved in the distance, approaching us. A big black bird. No, it wasn’t a bird. I jumped to my feet with a mix of surprise and excitement. “Argas!” I exclaimed, a lump in my throat.

  Ginevra smiled. “I knew you’d be happy to see him again.”

  Ginevra’s Saurus landed on the peak, folding his big black wings, and came toward me. I ran over and threw my arms around him. He whinnied and rubbed his head against mine. “I can’t believe he’s here.” I’d missed him so much! I could never have survived Hell without him. Though he was Ginevra’s steed, a connection had formed instantly between us. He’d also defended Evan from the Damned.

  I sat down again and he curled up at Ginevra’s feet, his giant head on her lap. I looked at Ginevra and saw a tear slide down her face. “Gwen . . .” I whispered, surprised. She stroked her animal, her eyes veiled with sorrow.

  Only then did I understand. “This isn’t the real Hell.” Ginevra shook her head, still stroking Argas. “And he isn’t real,” I murmured. “So that’s why you lock yourself up in here so often. Not only to train, but—”

  “To remember. It’s not easy to eradicate such an important part of you.”

  Ginevra had recreated a corner of Hell and hidden it behind the bars of her “forbidden door.” She’d done so not only to give her Dakor a safe place to stay, but also to have a memory in which to seek refuge. I’d always believed it was a door that led to a little portion of her world. Only now did I realize it wasn’t true. It was a lie she told herself to hide the pain. She missed her world terribly. “So this is just another artificial scenario?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he’s not really here,” I said, this time louder. “He’s just an illusion?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was sad.

  I sighed. “You’d like to see him again, wouldn’t you?”

  “More than anything in the world.”

  I sighed again and stared at the valley that stretched beyond the mountains with their waterfalls and lush vegetation. “I really admire you for the decision you made,” I said. “I can tell how much it makes you suffer, but despite that you chose Simon.”

  “He counts more than anything else,” she stated without hesitation. And yet, though hundreds of years had passed, her connection to her world was still deeply rooted in her and the distance made her suffer. I too remembered the feeling of belonging I’d had once I was there.

  “I wish I had half your courage,” I admitted. If I were as strong as she was, maybe I would be able to avoid letting the transformation obliterate me.

  Ginevra laughed and looked at me with affection. “If courage were enough, you’d have nothing to fear from the transformation. You’re the bravest person I know.”

  “That’s not true. I’m always filled with doubt, I never know what the right thing to do is, and most importantly . . . I’m afraid, Gwen. I’m even afraid of myself.”

  “Fear makes us strong. Every time you face it, you win a battle with yourself. And you’re the strongest warrior I’ve ever seen.”

  A tear slid down my cheek.

  “You faced Death with your head held high when it came to take you. You took the poison, knowing it would kill you. You even went all the way to Hell for your love. Without help. Without powers. Just you and the immense strength you have in your heart. You mean to tell me that isn’t courage?”

  I smiled through my tears. “Thanks, Gwen.” I rested my head on her shoulder and she hugged me.

  “I’m happy you’re here with me,” she suddenly said. “I can never go back to Hell, and this is the only way we can be there together.”

  “I’m not going there either,” I assured her.

  She squeezed my hand. “I hope not. I don’t want to lose you, Gemma.”

  “That’s not going to happen. I’m not giving up.” I wasn’t going to let evil obliterate me. I risked losing so much, too much. I wasn’t willing to give in.

  Argas whinnied and I trembled. Of all the challenges I’d faced, the hardest one was yet to come: the battle against myself.

  THE SNOWBALL HOP

  “Were we gone so long?!” I exclaimed as we came out through the vault door. I couldn’t believe it was dark out already.

  “Time flies when you’re with a Sister.”

  I smiled at her affectionately. The bond between us wasn’t because of my nature—it had grown strong long before. “What happened to Nausyka and Anya?” I asked, curious, hoping Ginevra would track down their minds wherever they were in the house.

  “We can find out later. First let’s eat something. I’m famished,” she protested, walking down the stairs.

  “You’re always famished.”

  “Look who’s talking!”

  I stuck my tongue out at her and she shoved something in my mouth. My eyes bulged and I took a bite out of a chocolate muffin. It was delicious. Ginevra had used an effective argument to come out of the conversation a winner. The table in the living room was piled high with food, but we were so hungry that in minutes there was almost nothing left.

  “Aren’t you two ready yet?”

  Sprawled on the couch, our bellies about to burst—at least mine—Ginevra and I turned toward Anya, who’d just appeared in the living room. I usually jumped whenever one of them popped up out of the blue, but I was too full to do even that. The Witches didn’t gradually appear and disappear, like Subterraneans—they went poof.

  I struggled to my feet, surprised to see how stunning Anya looked in her luxurious gown. A big smile spread across her face. “You like it?” She twirled around. With her long, green, Venetian dress and her curly hair, she looked like a princess. She was all set for the Snowball Hop, while I still had to get ready—and there was no sign of Evan.

  “Mmm . . . Pizza!” Nausyka took a slice and savored it voluptuously, as though making love to it. I cast a questioning glance at Anya: Nausyka was also dressed for the dance. She wore an elegant black gown with a plunging neckline and a mermaid train. Her white hair was plaited in a long braid that hung over one shoulder. Its tip looked like it had been dipped in black ink. She looked like an evil, sexy twin of Elsa from Frozen. I didn’t dare imagine the reaction she would get in a room full of mortals ready to fall at her feet. One of them, however, worried me more than the others.

  “Are you going to tell your friend about the change of plans or do you want to give me his number?” Anya winked at me and smiled. She’d won! Thank you, I mouthed to her. Nausyka glared at me icily. “But now, what are we waiting for? I don’t want to miss the coronation!” Anya took me by the hand and pulled me up the stairs.

  “Wait for me!” shouted Ginevra, hurrying after us.

  “Don’t take too long,” Nausyka grumbled. “I’m tired of being cooped up in this house.”

  Anya pushed me into a chair and started to put makeup on me while Ginevra styled my hair. Strangely, I didn’t feel like a rag doll in their hands—I felt like a princess with her ladies-in-waiting. I felt loved.

  “Was it easy to snatch Nausyka’s date away from her?” I asked Anya.

  “I have to admit she gave it her best shot.”

  “What does she want from Peter? Why is she obsessed with him?”

  “She’s not going to compromise his soul,” Ginevra said. “Trust me.”

  “It’s her I don’t trust. I want her to stay away from him. I’m a lot happier that he’s going to the dance with Anya.”

  She smiled, continuing to put eye shadow on me. “To tell you the truth, you shouldn’t be wondering what she wants from him, but what he wants from her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your friend’s a really bright kid—above all, he’s very curious.”

  “We’ve known that for a while now,” Ginevra said, grinning. Peter had always pried into their business, but I was sure he did it to protect me. “He only wanted to go out with Nausyka because he thinks he may uncover something strange. He’s not the least bit interested in her, aside from the physical attraction . . . which she has every intention of satisfying.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine,” I said.

  “But you don’t have to worry about it any more. With me around, she’ll stay away from him and I can assure you I won’t seduce him.”

  “Anya, I know he’s just a mortal Soul to you, but I don’t want him not to have a good time. With you he can. You have my blessing.”

  Anya stopped, a black eyeliner pencil poised near my eyes. “That’s really kind of you. I know how close you two are.”

  “That’s true, but I don’t think about him like that, so it’s okay if he goes to the dance with you and has fun. Who knows? Maybe you and he could deepen your new friendship.” I looked at Anya with a mischievous air.

  “You mean you wouldn’t be even a little jealous?”

  “Not even a little,” I said confidently. “I would be happy if Peter found someone who deserved him.”

  “That someone can’t be me,” Anya reminded me. She was only there temporarily. Once her mission was finished, she would return to Hell with her Sisters.

  “I know,” I admitted a little sadly, “but it certainly can’t be Nausyka. If Peter has to have a good time, I’d rather he have it with you.”

  “It’s natural for you to want to protect him,” Ginevra said, busy braiding my hair.

  “Et voilà! Mission accomplished,” Anya exclaimed excitedly. Ginevra looked at me and for a second seemed shocked.

  “Gwen, everything okay?” I asked with concern.

  She smiled at me, banishing my fears. “Yes. You’re spellbinding.” She helped me put on the voluminous Victorian gown and laced up the back. “Remember when we bought these dresses?” she asked affectionately.

  “When you bought them,” I reminded her. “I didn’t even want to try mine on!”

  “Turns out they came in handy, didn’t they?”

  “Yeah, and I’m sure you had nothing to do with it.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Ginevra shot me a sidelong glance, hiding a smile. My dress was red, the color of blood. We’d bought it in New York during a day trip. Back then we hadn’t known what the theme for the Winter Carnival dance would be, but I suspected Ginevra had had a hand in the decision.

  “All done. Now you can look,” she said as Anya gazed at me with delight.

  I raised the hem of my skirt just above my ankles and walked over to the mirror, where I slowly raised my eyes, almost fearfully. I instantly realized why Ginevra seemed so shaken. I looked like one of them.

  “You look divine,” Anya whispered behind me, squeezing my shoulders. I blinked, astonished. Mascara enhanced my long lashes and eyeliner as black as my eye shadow brought out the curve of my eyes. The line continued to my temples, creating a design. It almost looked like an elegant mask—no, not a mask. Butterfly wings. My gaze had become deep and incredibly magnetic, and my hair was gathered into a soft wave of curls that flowed over one shoulder. Peeking out here and there were little braids that held the hairstyle in place. I couldn’t believe it was me.

  “That dress is perfect. I would never be able to tell you’re expecting a baby,” Anya said.

  I touched my abdomen. She was right. With that dress, my belly wasn’t noticeable at all. There were girls at school who looked more pregnant than I did—even though they weren’t. Though I didn’t know why, it really was hard to tell on me. Now I just hoped Evan got back in time. When he’d asked me to the dance I wasn’t sure whether it was a good idea, but then, like a little girl, I’d let excitement wash over me. It was our first dance together. The first dance to which someone other than Peter had invited me. And I was crazy in love with my date. I had a bad feeling, though. Something inside me told me he wasn’t coming.

  “He’ll come,” Anya reassured me, though there was no way she could be sure.

  “Knowing him, he’ll be there in time to kill every guy who checks out your cleavage,” Ginevra added. I burst out laughing. “I wouldn’t laugh if I were you. Believe me, it’ll be a slaughter.” She smiled, pointing at the plunging neckline that brought out the curve of my breasts.

  “I say he’ll be the one to die—the minute he lays eyes on you. You’re going to be the prettiest girl at the dance. After me, naturally.” Anya winked at me and I smiled. Evan had captured my heart and held it tight, but I knew it was safe in his hands.

  The doorbell rang but before I could wonder who it was they already knew. “It’s Peter,” said Anya. “We’d better go down before Nausyka seizes her chance.”

  “You two finish getting ready. I’ll take care of it,” I offered. I hurried down the stairs but the bell rang again and Nausyka opened it.

  “Hi,” I heard Peter say to her.

  “Thanks, Nausyka. I’ve got it,” I exclaimed before she could try anything on him. “You lost your bet, remember?” I told her in my mind.

  “It won’t be the last one,” she replied, glancing at me before walking off. Peter watched her leave, confused, and then his eyes rested on me.

  “Hi,” I said, but he seemed to have lost his power of speech. “Change of plans. Nausyka isn’t going with you any more.” For a second his eyes lit up.

  “Anya’s going with you,” I hurried to add before he got any ideas.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, his eyes fixed on mine. “She wasn’t my first choice anyway.”

  I looked away, embarrassed. “Come on in. Anya will be down in a minute.”

  Peter walked into the living room. He looked handsome in his elegant nineteenth-century suit: a black waistcoat over a blue silk shirt and, for the first time, a tie. It wasn’t just the clothes—there was also something different in his bearing. He was becoming a man.

  “You’re not wearing your hair tie on your arm,” he noticed.

  I’d forgotten how attentive he was when it came to me. “I can go without it tonight,” I said. The truth was that the dream I’d had the night before had upset me so much that I’d started to be afraid of myself, of what I would become. The hair tie had always been part of me, but as a response to the summons of evil. Just for one night I wanted to escape the darkness. I hoped it wouldn’t pursue me.