Selena held the glove in her hand. She felt a tingling sensation, saw a flash of, something, then it was gone. Her lips curved into a smile, it was working. Just a few more visits from the incubus and Alex Moreau's gift would be hers, then her life would be over. Walking across the room, she gazed at herself in the mirror. The burns were healing, though slowly. Her mind drifted back….
She thought she had been careful. She didn't know anyone knew what she had been doing. She certainly didn't realize the Legacy was on to her. When the Moreau bitch and her colleague Rachel Corrigan had visited, under the guise of belonging to the Luna Foundation, asking questions about the missing girl, she assumed it was because she was a neighbor. Not that she had been found out, and their visit was merely a ruse to get into her home and verify their suspicions. She thought she had come off as the politely concerned neighbor; no, she didn't know of anyone Gina had been having problems with, such a terrible tragedy, who would have done such a thing. Ironically, it was the demon that tried to warn her, but she didn't heed him. When they returned two days later, she wished she had. Moreau had burst in, accusing Selena of witchcraft and killing Gina, telling her it was over, she would hurt no one else. Selena was so shocked, she almost laughed. Stop her? Who did this impudent bitch think she was? It was then she saw the paper in her hands, and heard the words she was reciting. A spell.
Selena quickly began an incantation of her own, a spell for astral travel, followed by one for invisibility. Once she had escaped the house unnoticed, she started casting in earnest. Her first spell sent Alex flying back into the wall. The Corrigan woman had gone running to her, checking to see if she was all right. Selena thought for sure she'd had them. Then Corrigan had picked up the paper to continue the incantation, but Alex had gotten up, grabbed it out of her hand, and read. The next thing Selena knew flames surrounded her astral body. Being a considerable distance away, she should have been safe. Then she felt the burning. And she was screaming. In her mind she recited the incantation to rejoin her astral body to her physical one. The burning had stopped, but the pain remained. Fortunately, the other women had mistaken the disappearance of her astral self for her death.
She glanced at herself in the mirror again, the anger welling up inside her. She had been smug, assuming they could not defeat her, that the magic they used was inferior. She would not make that mistake again. And soon, Alexandria Moreau would make no mistakes again. Ever.