Jack-o-lanterns lined the wide front porch, each carved with happy smiles. The half-moon hovered in the sky while leaves the color of Autumn paintings were gathering gently upon the porch steps. All the lights in Blanchard House were extinguished except for a few lamps and candles in the upstairs den. The bulbs were softened by rose and pumpkin-colored scarves draped over the shades. Everyone’s shadow looked three times larger than their bodies as the delicate light cast them to the walls. Occasionally one shadow, Nacaria’s, appeared dwarf-like among them.

  Artemis was at the restaurant. Demitra had taken Olympia to a movie. Seth was meeting Howard at a local tavern. It was October 30, and Yasmine’s bachelorette shower was underway. Tomorrow was the wedding. Arielle turned on the den sound system and hooked her phone’s Bluetooth to the speakers. As she twirled around the floor to Fleetwood Mac’s Gypsy, Salem realized her little sister had a very low alcohol tolerance. Fable and Yasmine were huddled on the floor giggling as Beryl came upstairs with two fresh pitchers in hand.

  “Yay!” Arielle cried. “I’m on empty!”

  “Which do you want?” Beryl asked. “Margarita or Rum Runner?’

  “Lum Bunters,” Arielle hiccupped.

  “She’s wasted,” Fable laughed.

  Salem refilled her sister’s glass but decided before handing it to her that it was probably best to also escort her to a chair. “You’ve never been drunk before have you, Ari?”

  “Not so much,” Arielle admitted. “It’s quite wonderful. I think people should drink more.”

  “You should see this girl try to fry chicken,” Salem teased to the others. “It was by far the funniest thing I have ever seen in my life.”

  Salem sat back down and continued the job she had begun earlier and abandoned, of braiding Fable’s hair. Her raven hair had grown some over the summer, long enough now to actually do something with, but it was still probably much too short for braiding. As she put her hands back into the job she remembered why she had abandoned it earlier. It was less braided than it was tied into knots. Maybe I’m a little drunk, too.

  “Okay, okay, I’m ready!” Yasmine cried.

  “For what?” Beryl said, a little louder than was called for, causing her to also realize she had consumed too much herself.

  “What?” Yasmine replied, totally forgetting it was she who started the topic..

  “You said you were ready for something,” Beryl repeated, even more amplified.

  “Beryl, you are awfully loud,” Salem pointed out.

  “Oh.”

  “What are you ready for, Yaz?” Salem asked.

  “Presents!”

  “Alright, alright,” Salem said, pulling the coffee table forward toward Yasmine. It was stacked with gifts wrapped in paper of orange and black with corresponding ribbons tied around for accent. Everyone gathered around the table and watched as Yasmine tore into her wrapped treasures.

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  “What are these, Fable?” Yasmine asked pulling the lid off a box to reveal lacy underwear with no middle section.

  “Crotchless panties,” Fable grinned. “I figured they’d save time whenever you and Seth are at dinner parties and he can’t control himself and decides to sneak you off to another room.”

  “Yes, I was wondering how to solve that particular problem at all those dinner parties we go to,” Yasmine answered sarcastically.

  “Here,” said Salem, picking up another gift. “This is from Zelda. She dropped it off this afternoon.”

  Yasmine ripped the paper off and opened the box. The box was filled with fast food gift certificates, restaurant gift cards, movie theater gift cards, two bottles of wine, two pewter goblets, and two one-night stay certificates at two different hotels. In case you two need some privacy in a house full of relatives.

  “Zelda is so sweet,” Yasmine giggled.

  “She really is,” Fable added. “It’s a shame my boyfriend tried to kill her.”

  Everyone looked at each other and then burst into laughter. It was the first time Fable had made light of the situation, proving that perhaps she was getting over it and healing from the disappointment Patric had proven to be.

  Fable took another sip of her margarita and then discreetly poured a little of it out into a potted plant beside her. She wasn’t sure yet what she planned to do about this pregnancy. She was pacing herself appropriately. Taking a few sips if everyone was looking was all right but the majority of her liquor was consumed by the philodendron.

  “Look!” Yasmine cried. “Grandmother’s silver candlesticks she bought on her honeymoon with Granddaddy!”

  “Aw, she gave them to you,” Salem smiled brightly. Olympia treasured those candlesticks. It was a beautiful gesture to give them now to Yasmine.

  Yasmine reached for another gift which had been stacked beneath the previous two. It was not wrapped in orange or black. It was covered in shiny red paper--almost Christmas red. Unwrapping the box and lifting the lid she found only a note, Open the door.

  “I wonder what’s behind the door?” Yasmine feigned chuckling. Walking towards the door she added, “Possibly a naked man? You guys thought you were so clever! I knew the whole time.”

  “Cool idea,” Fable whispered to Beryl. “Having the stripper waiting in the hall.”

  “The stripper isn’t due for another hour,” she replied. “And I didn’t tell him to come upstairs.”

  “Yasmine, wait!” Fable called out, but it was too late. Yasmine pulled the door open.

  Standing before all of them was Patric. His menacing eyes glowing red with victory. Yasmine screamed. She tried to close the door on him, but he ripped it from the hinges with one fierce tug. Yasmine stumbled backward and fell over the coffee table. Her cousins grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her backwards to cower with them behind the table—as if that were somehow safer.

  “Little pig, little pig, let me in,” Patric sneered.

  “Go away, Patric!” Fable screamed rising to her feet. “Leave us alone! I don’t want you. I’m not going with you.”

  He cocked his head to the side, giving an incredulous look. Then he laughed. It was a sinister, guttural, echoing laugh. Fable’s statement amused him for some reason they did not understand. He took a step forward into the room. Salem glanced at Arielle and instinctively reached her arm out to shield her little sister. It was almost the same way a mother outstretches an arm to the passenger seat to block her child when tapping the brake suddenly. Neither of them had ever seen this man before…this creature. The sight of him made them shudder.

  “I did not come back for you, Fable,” Patric growled. “Your arrogance is amusing.” His eyes slowly turned back to Yasmine. “It was always you Yasmina. It has always been you.”

  The others were spellbound by the revelation, unable to physically react with their brains now processing the surprising information. Patric was not after Fable. He wanted Yasmine. But why?

  Patric leapt forward with a lightning speed, the likes none of them had ever witnessed before. Salem flung her hands forward to send her freezing power forth and stop him. Simultaneously, Fable flung herself forward to block the path to Yasmine. Neither attempt made a difference. For, in the flash of an eye, Patric was gone, and so was Yasmine. Only the sound of shattered glass from the window behind them was left in their wake.