NIGHT NINE OF PHANTASMA
“We should come up with a team name,” Genevieve suggested as they made it up to the sixth flight of the manor . They, being Ophelia, Genevieve, and a very amused Blackwell.
For the past three hours, they’d been going through as many floors and rooms of Phantasma as possible. They’d yet to run into any other contestants that might be left, and it was making Ophelia anxious. She wanted to size up her opponents before the next trial.
Genevieve, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have a care in the world other than grilling Blackwell about any and everything that popped into her mind.
What’s it like being a ghost?
Do you ever worry your clothes are going to go out of style?
Or that you’re egregiously behind on the latest technology?
Have you ever even seen a car?
How many people have you watched die in here?
How long is your—
Ophelia hadn’t known where that last question was going, but she cut it off before Genevieve could even finish it. To Blackwell’s credit, he took every question in stride. Even seemed to be enjoying Genevieve’s antics as they wandered through the mansion. It made something deep within her ache. She ignored it, funneling all of her focus into their hunt.
All the corridors and hallways in the other wings looked nearly identical to the one Ophelia had been trapped in all this time. Complete with elaborate dining rooms, libraries, and random broom closets. It didn’t take long for them to realize that they were the same rooms, somehow just operating on different linear planes, all layered on top of the other in different pockets of the universe. It was enough to make Ophelia’s head spin, quite frankly, but it made more sense why, of all the wings in the manor, Ophelia found her father’s name carved into a place within hers. Which technically meant if other contestants had figured that out, they could’ve left messages for other groups to see. A detail that made Ophelia irate after all the worrying she’d done about Genevieve’s whereabouts.
“I am open to team name suggestions,” Blackwell humored Genevieve, his words cutting through Ophelia’s thoughts and bringing her back into their ridiculous conversation.
“Let’s see, what do we all have in common…” Genevieve trailed off, flitting down the hall ahead of them, to a new room. “We’re all very attractive.”
Blackwell’s grin grew. “That is true.”
Ophelia shot her sister a disparaging look. “Don’t inflate his ego any more than it already is, I’m begging you.”
“Which she does not like to do,” Blackwell quipped. “She much prefers me in that position instead.”
Ophelia elbowed him in the ribs as her cheeks flamed. He tilted his head back and laughed, and she had to fight the pain welling up in her chest at the sight. Because there they were, she and Genevieve reunited, Blackwell laughing with abandon, and all she could think about was how in two days she’d never get to have this experience again.
“What about—” Genevieve began as if neither of them had spoken, but was suddenly interrupted when something small and ghostly popped in by her feet. “Oh! Fluffy! You’re back.”
“Fluffy?” Ophelia and Blackwell questioned in sync.
Genevieve looked back at them. “What else was I supposed to call him?”
“His name is Poe.” Blackwell smiled as he went over and scooped the cat up.
“No fair, you can pet him,” Genevieve pouted.
“Don’t worry, you’re not missing much,” Blackwell assured. “He’s a dreadful scoundrel most of the time.”
Poe launched himself out of Blackwell’s embrace then, as if insulted.
Ophelia cleared her throat. “Alright, I think we need to call it a night. We’ve walked up and down at least ten flights of stairs and have searched every room with no luck. I am exhausted.”
Genevieve snorted. “I’m sure you are after all that energy the two of you probably burned earlier.”
Ophelia’s face heated for the millionth time in the last hour, but Blackwell was grinning like a fiend.
He stepped up next to Ophelia, reaching over to brush a piece of hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear as he told her, “I enjoy your sister immensely.”
“I’m going to bed,” Ophelia muttered as she playfully swatted his hand away and turned to stomp from the room. “I should have known the two of you would be an unbearable pair.”
“Wait!” Genevieve rushed past Blackwell to keep up with Ophelia. “We’re going to share a room from now on, right?”
Ophelia looked back over her shoulder at Blackwell, and they shared a loaded look.
It was him who said, “That’s probably the best idea.”
Of course, Ophelia didn’t want to split up from Genevieve, but there was also a part of her, a very selfish part, that was devastated that the last time they were intimate together was the last time.
“I’ll go get my things and meet you back at your room, Ophie,” Genevieve said.
“Do you want us to go with you?” Ophelia offered, unsure if she wanted her sister to split up with them, but Genevieve waved off her concern.
“I’ll be fine!” she assured as she rushed off.
Blackwell transported Ophelia back to her room a few seconds later.
“This is strange,” Ophelia told him. “Like two worlds colliding.”
“I’m glad you found her. Or rather, that she found us.” Blackwell smiled, his arms circling her waist to bring her body closer to his. “Though, I wish she had found us at least five minutes later…”
Ophelia hummed in agreement and let him press a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips.
“I wish you could stay,” she whispered.
“Me too.” He sighed. “But maybe this will be easier.”
She knew he was probably right, but it didn’t stop the disappointment. He kissed her one last time before bidding her good night and vanishing, leaving her to change for bed and crawl beneath the covers while she waited for her sister.
Ophelia woke the next day with Genevieve’s elbow in her back and all of her covers stolen to the other side of the bed.
“I did not miss this,” she muttered before getting up and stretching.
She didn’t remember Genevieve returning the night before—she must have fallen asleep—but now the entire floor was covered in things. One thing about Genevieve was that she was incapable of having a tidy room. Various articles of clothing and shoes and perfume bottles spilled from her two trunks, and Ophelia was in disbelief at how much her sister was able to fit in just two bags.
There was a movement from the bed as Genevieve yawned and stretched.
“You brought more than one pair of shoes, Vivi?” Ophelia admonished. “You brought perfume?”
“You never know who you might meet,” Genevieve grumbled at being judged so early in the morning. “Besides, I didn’t bring any of the expensive ones.”
“You are unbelievable.” Ophelia shook her head. “Get dressed before I summon Blackwell. I want to get as much searching in as we can before tonight.”
Genevieve hauled herself out of bed, and though it was deep into the afternoon because of the inverted sleeping schedule Phantasma had forced them all into, Genevieve still proved that she could never be a morning person. When they were both finally dressed, Ophelia called for Blackwell. It took several times before he finally heard her, which she had to quickly explain to Genevieve.
“See, this is why I hate magic,” Genevieve muttered as they left Ophelia’s room and headed down the corridor. “Too many fucking rules.”
Blackwell popped in front of them a second later, a grave look on his face.
“What’s wrong?” Ophelia asked.
“A few of the last contestants from the other groups are trying to hunt down people to kill before the next level,” he informed them. “Only one person can attempt level nine, so this is usually about the time this sort of thing starts to happen.”
Genevieve and Ophelia exchanged a look, and Ophelia knew what she needed to say next.
“Vivi…”
“No.” Genevieve shook her head vigorously. “I’m not leaving after all of this.”
“But if only one of us can get to level nine, why risk any more trials?” Ophelia reasoned.
“Then I’ll forfeit before level nine,” Genevieve countered. “But I’m not leaving you before.”
“Well, if there were any time to forfeit, it would be before level eight,” Blackwell inserted. “It’s definitely the one with the most to lose since—”
“Oh, I’m sure they’d be fine,” a deep, sinister voice interrupted, and Ophelia immediately tensed.
Sinclair appeared with a smug smile on his face, and Blackwell stiffened with barely concealed rage. This was not going to be good.
“It’s you!” Genevieve exclaimed before swinging her gaze to Ophelia. “He’s the one who told me where to find you, Ophie.”
“Oh, Ophie and I go way back, I assure you,” Sinclair said. “In fact, the last time we saw each other, my fingers were in her—”
“Finish that sentence and I’ll fucking kill you,” Blackwell threatened.
Ophelia was ashamed that all she could think of in this moment was that Blackwell had been right before—jealousy was a s*xy color.
Genevieve, now realizing something much deeper was going on between the three of them, glanced around in shock.
Leaning into Ophelia with a proud grin, she whispered, “Please tell me they’re fighting over you.”
Ophelia threw a severe look at Genevieve that only made her sister’s grin grow wider.
Sinclair tilted his head. “Be careful, Blackwell. One might think your jealousy is dangerously linked to something very much forbidden.”
“What happened between the three of you, Ophie?” Genevieve whispered conspiratorially.
“Didn’t your sister dearest tell you?” Sinclair asked innocently. “Blackwell isn’t the only one around here she kissed.”
“He’s the only one I enjoyed kissing,” Ophelia retorted, and Blackwell’s grin turned wicked.
“Meanwhile, no one has offered to kiss me once this entire competition,” Genevieve pouted.
“I can change that,” Sinclair offered.
“No,” Blackwell and Ophelia exclaimed at the same time.
“I only came to make sure our dearest Grimm sisters found each other,” Sinclair pressed on. “It would be such a shame if they were torn apart again just as they were reunited, don’t you think, Blackwell?”
Ophelia narrowed her eyes at the Devil. “What’s your angle?”
Sinclair laughed. “I suppose you’ll have to figure that out for yourself.”
With that, he disappeared.
Something in Genevieve’s expression turned hopeful. “But what, Ophie?
Ophelia took a deep breath. “Things have changed. I’ve changed. I don’t want the same things anymore.”
“Then what do you want?” Genevieve pressed, reaching out to squeeze Ophelia’s hand in encouragement.
It took everything in Ophelia to keep her eyes on her sister’s face and not look at Blackwell, despite the weight of his gaze burning into her from where he stood.
“I’m still making my mind up about that,” Ophelia finally answered. “But what I know for sure is that your mission here is complete Genevieve. You led me here. And it’s saved me from a future that would have drowned me. And I have Blackwell to protect me until I can reach the end. Why risk another level that you don’t need to?”
Genevieve was quiet for a long moment, gaze searching for something in Ophelia’s eyes. Whatever she was looking for, she must have found.
“Fine,” Genevieve whispered. “Can I at the very least stay with you until then?”
Ophelia’s shoulders relaxed. She did it. She’d found Genevieve and convinced her to leave. Everything was as it should be.
“Alright, stay until dinner. And then we can say our farewells.”
