Sadie Madison and the Boy in the Crimson Scarf

36 | The Girl Who Came Home

Larissa still had both hands locked on Sadie's shoulders when Michael returned to the kitchen. She looked pale, scared and unsure. "What's happening, Michael? Where have you been?"

"It's fine," he lied. "Everything is going to be fine." His eyes hardly met hers. "The door," he said. "I thought...maybe...we could use the door."

"The door?" Larissa said, surprised. "You said running away was futile. You said they'll find us no matter where we go."

"What door?" Sadie asked. "The carved one with all the interesting faces?"

"Yes. That door."

"Michael, where are you taking us?" Larissa implored. "Shall I get Natalia? Is Dimitri coming too? I don't know if she'll come without him. To be honest, I doubt she'll come at all." Michael levered Sadie away from Larissa. "We should all go together. Michael? Wait!"

But Michael moved away from his wife, guiding Sadie through the hallway, towards the study. "Yes, yes," he said over his shoulder. "Get Natalia and Eli. Atticus too."

"Where are we going, Michael? San Cristophe, Los Kralice, Ville de Feuilles. Where, Michael? Where? What about clothes, a suitcase, money?"

Instead of fetching Natalia and Eli and forcing them to run away from everything they knew, Larissa followed Michael patiently through the library, smiling at her guests and twirling to the music on the wireless.

The study door clicked shut as she arrived.

She turned the handle, shouldered the door. It was locked tight. She knocked calmly, smiling awkwardly at the room. No answer came. "Michael," she called, her voice strained and anxious. "The door's locked. Do open up."

An almighty crash filled the house.

The tear of splintering wood and shattering glass.

Rent from its hinges, the front door lay in the middle of the hallway, dust and snow pluming at the edges.

Three women dressed in black flowing robes stood on the stricken door.

The Wretched spread their hands. Balls of dark fire flecked with skeins of scarlet, indigo, and turquoise formed over their outstretched fingers.

Party guests screamed and scrambled, diving for safety and running each other down as they fled.

The Wretched laughed wickedly, smiling and leering at Larissa.

"Move aside, woman," Edith croaked.

"Give us the child," added Dorothea.

Larissa clutched the doorframe, pounding on the door with her heel.

"La-rissa," Genevieve purred. "Step aside. We only want the child. We'll leave the rest of you to your...lives." She sneered, her cerulean eyes glowing. "Don't make us hurt you."

Guests scrambled past the three women as Natalia came barrelling down the stairs. Dorothea reached out a hand and pulled her close.

"Hello, dearie," she croaked.

Natalia screamed as the witch's fingers bit into her skin.

Larissa breath became ragged. Her back flat against the study door. She pounded on it again. "Don't hurt her," she pleaded. "She has nothing to do with this."

"Then give us the child," Genevieve said. "Give us...your real daughter."

Natalia struggled, limbs flying. "What are you?" she bleated.

Larissa slammed on the study door with everything she had. "Michael!"

Edith strode forward impatiently