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CHAPTER THREE

Every muscle and bone in Isabel's body protested as she forced herself out of bed at six in the morning. She had basically taken a two hour nap and now had to get ready for breakfast. Two hours would at least give her plenty of time to just stand in the shower and stare absently into space.

Her makeup took longer than usual, her tiredness making it difficult to get the wings of her eyeliner even enough where they didn't look weird. They didn't need to be perfect, just normal looking enough. Oh well, she could hide any mistakes with mascara.

She didn't have a car; the impala wouldn't fit in the cargo hold of the plane so she had to leave it back in Los Angeles. There was always Cordelia's car, but calling a cab was the better option considering Cordelia was still sleeping and Isabel doubted that she'd be allowed to borrow it.

There was a knock at her bedroom door, and Isabel opened it to find Spalding.

"Oh, morning," Isabel said, trying to sound more friendly than tired. She still felt like Spalding hated her, but she still tried to be nice.

He stepped gestured to the staircase before walking away. Sensing that she ought to follow him, Isabel grabbed her purse and headed to the front door with Spalding leading the way.

Spalding opened the door and a sleek black car was waiting for Isabel. Apparently she wouldn't need a cab after all.

"''"""''""""'

Fiona had arrived already and was seated outside. It was a warm day, but early enough where the heat wasn't unbearable. She sipped her mimosa as one of her personal cars pulled into the parking lot. She watched as Isabel got out of the car, looking more put together than she expected.

This girl was a strange one, and there was something about her that Fiona couldn't quite place; something unsettling. Fiona's gut told her to worry, and Fiona was one to follow her gut feeling.

Isabel approached the table and Fiona gestured for her to sit. "You're awake."

"Barely." She could smell the coffee even from outside, and it helped perk her up. "So is there a reason you wanted to meet here, or did you just feel like treating me?"

Fiona smirked. So the girl had some wit. Good, conversations with her wouldn't be boring. "You wanted answers, and I like mimosas in the morning."

"Well, can't argue with that."

The waiter came by and offered coffee, which Isabel immediately accepted. She sat back, holding the cup between her hands. Silence floated down between them like a delicate feather, waiting to be blown away any second.

Fiona watched Isabel drink her coffee, scrutinizing her as if waiting for her to screw something up. Or perhaps Isabel was just being dramatic.

"You wanted to know about Mimi Delongpre."

"Still do."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

It seemed her wit would only be so tolerable. Fiona pursed her lips together. Why did this girl radiate with curiosity? Why Mimi specifically?" "She was a great witch. She was able to perform all Seven Wonders. But her specialty was Descensum."

That made sense. Isabel wasn't particularly good at Descensum, but it was her only ability at the moment. Things were starting to come together for Isabel, her history falling into place.

"She's family," Isabel said. An answer for an answer was a fair deal. "My birth mother says that she was a cousin or something."

"Adopted?" Fiona asked, concealing her surprise about Isabel's ancestry. She ought to have read her file; this was information she needed to know."

"Yup. Derek Noble."

"The author." She supposed that made sense: Isabel's wit and annoying curiosity due to her being raised by a writer. That wasn't Fiona's concern. Her adoptive father wasn't significant to her at all. It was Isabel's birth family that was troubling. A descendent of Mimi Delongpre meant power. It meant a threat.

"Are you adopted?"

Fiona raised her eyebrows. "I wasn't aware that this was my interrogation."

"A question for a question. I refuse to be interrogated alone." Isabel sipped more coffee, never once breaking eye contact as she feigned confidence and ease. On the outside, she seemed to have her shit together. Inside, she was screaming.

There was a pause. Fiona was reserved about her past. A girl who came from nothing and rose to greatness, but not on the cleanest of paths; it wasn't a story she wanted to share with everyone. Her life didn't truly start until she became the Supreme. Everything before that didn't matter. "I came to the academy as a young girl," she answered. "And became the youngest Supreme."

That was way more interesting than Fiona's parental situation. Isabel straightened up in her chair. "How did that happen?"

Hook, line, and sinker. "The Supreme at the time, Annaleigh Leighton, died and the Supremacy was passed onto me."

There was no sadness in Fiona's eyes as she spoke of Annaleigh Leighton. Isabel couldn't find it too hard to believe. How could Fiona be upset when it meant coming into power, something she clearly loved?

"What's the best thing about being the Supreme?"

Fiona tilted her head to the side as she pondered the question. She could answer it honestly: having so much control over everyone. "The traveling," she said instead.

"I like traveling, too." Not that Isabel had much of a choice, but it wasn't something she ever minded. Starting at new schools wasn't so difficult when her father was sort of famous. "Favorite trip you've been on?"

"England for a weekend with Stevie."

"Stevie…? Like… Nicks?" That was the only Stevie Isabel knew. No, that couldn't be right. When Fiona gave a coy, telling smile in response, her jaw nearly dropped. "Holy shit, you know Stevie Nicks?"

"Stevie and I go way back."

"Holy shit," Isabel repeated. No wonder Fiona liked being the Supreme. It wasn't just ruling over a coven. It was like being famous in Hollywood. "Cordelia made it seem like being the Supreme kinda sucked."

Fiona scoffed; of course Delia would do that. "She just doesn't understand. And quite frankly, my misguided daughter may be letting her jealousy affect her judgement."

"Jealousy?"

"Cordelia isn't strong enough to be the Supreme. She never was, never will be. She resents me and the Supremacy for it."

That was sad, and Isabel didn't know how to respond. She didn't think Cordelia talked poorly of the Supremacy because she could never be the Supreme, though it did make sense. Isabel assumed being the Supreme was like being the President of the United States: it was a lot of responsibility and could really suck sometimes, but at the end of the day it was a solid gig. Then again, she could be wrong. She had never been the President of the United States and couldn't exactly draw from experience.

"Could I ever be the Supreme?" Isabel asked. She assumed that she had a shot at it because of Mimi, but if Cordelia, the current Supreme's daughter, didn't have a chance then maybe she didn't either.

"No," Fiona lied. "The Supremacy is a rare thing. You being the only student at the academy doesn't make you special." She paused, reveling in the disheartened look in Isabel's eyes for a moment. Then she said, "But you do have a power. And I can work with that."

"''""""'"""'""

The car brought only Isabel back to the academy just in time for morning ritual.

"You were up early," Cordelia commented as Isabel walked into the ancestor room. "Where did you go?"

"Out to breakfast." Isabel left out meeting with Fiona, feeling like Cordelia wouldn't take too kindly to that. The tension between the mother and daughter was palpable and it wasn't something Isabel wanted to get involved in.

Cordelia closed her eyes and sighed. "Just be careful, Izzy. The world can be dangerous. Try and not go anywhere alone. Strength in numbers."

"Right, sorry." She didn't sound convincing.

Isabel's spine tingled, and the muscles in her lower back tensed. It was a familiar feeling: someone was there; someone unseen.

Cordelia's brow furrowed as she watched Isabel's posture change. "Are you alright?"

Isabel didn't answer at first. She was processing the feeling, trying to decide if this was real or just her mind playing tricks on her because of the loneliness. "Someone died here," she concluded. She had to trust her gut on this.

Cordelia grimaced, but she wasn't surprised by this revelation made by Isabel. "Yes well, unfortunately there have been a few deaths here over the years. Death is something that not even witches can pervade."

That may be true, but this was different. This was the feeling of the Murder House. This was a shift in balance.

Someone died here.

And they never left.