The car started perfectly. The GPS worked as well, the fucking fucker. Annoyed but not surprised, she smacked it with the back of her hand, double-checked her directions, then pulled out of the lot.

Within a few moments, she had left the streetlights of Westmarch behind and plunged into deep countryside. Overhead, the moon was full and gorgeous in a midnight blue, clear sky, and the stars were so bright and seemed so close Sophie felt like she could pluck them out of the sky.

The roads she drove were narrow and winding, and clusters of trees and hedges threw deep, almost impenetrable shadows, so she drove slowly. The land was alive with such aged magic, after a few moments she felt drunk on it. She rolled down the windows to let a fitful breeze gust into the car. Beside her in the passenger seat, Robin sat still, his eyes glistening in the dim dashboard lights.

As they drew closer, she could feel it, the broken crossover passageway. Then stone pillars emerged from the darkness, outlined by the car’s headlights. They had once supported iron gates that blocked the drive to the house, but as she turned gently onto the gravel drive, she saw that the gates now leaned against the pillars, overgrown with ivy.

The sound of tires crunching on the gravel seemed very loud in the dense quiet. The grass on either side of the driveway looked freshly mowed, while a deep, unkempt forest bordered the green lawn. After she had turned into the drive, a small cottage came into view. That would be the gatekeeper’s house, her home for the next three months.

She could explore that tomorrow. She went farther, about a hundred yards or so, and as she drove around a bend past a clump of trees, the house came into view.

The house. The family albatross.

In the full moonlight, the massive manor house was a hulking, shadowed mystery. She let the car drift to a stop, then turned off the engine and stepped out, holding the door for Robin to follow. To her senses, the house felt steeped with all the magnificent, shattered magic of the crossover passageway.

Studying the roof, she counted. There seemed to be five gables at first, but then, just as it had when she had studied the photograph, her vision shifted and there were seven. She laughed softly, as she felt herself doing the most foolish thing she had done in years.

She fell in love with the albatross. Right there, in the moonlight, she fell in love with what had to be the most useless piece of real estate in the United Kingdom.

One of the things she had packed for her trip was a compact Maglite that fit easily into her purse. She pulled it out now to shine light on the ground as she picked her way along the broken flagstone path to the wide front doors. They were thick and sturdy, made of oak and bound with iron. Surprised that the flashlight worked so close to the building, she wondered if that meant she would be able to take photos from inside.

She had brought the keys to both the gatekeeper’s house and the manor, but she didn’t bother to pull out the manor house’s ancient key. Instead, she clicked off the Maglite, tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans, and placed both flattened hands on the oak doors to see what the house had to say for itself.

Intense darkness settled around her as she stood in the house’s shadow. For long moments she lost herself, tracing the shards of the crossover magic. So much magic. She could immerse herself completely in it, like plunging into the deep part of a pool.

There it was, the part she had been searching for that was slightly off. When she had seen the photos, she had wondered, but now she knew for a certainty.

“You’re going to be mine,” she whispered to the house.

But even she had her limits. Trying to enter this place was not something to be done in the middle of the night. She would wait until tomorrow to see if she was right.

As she mentally hugged herself with glee, a voice spoke behind her. A deep, slightly accented, unfortunately familiar voice.

Nikolas said, “It’s not wise to wander this countryside during a full moon.”

Her heart knocked against her ribs like a wild creature trying to break free of a cage. Whirling, she put the oak and iron doors to her back as she stared at the tall, imposing figure standing a few yards away. He was a shadow within a shadow, an intense, midnight star of magic more Powerful than all the magic of the land around her.

She clenched her hands, grateful she had prepared both defensive and offensive spells this time instead of feeling naked and defenseless as the day she was born. “What are you doing here?”

Her cold furious intent came out breathless and shaken.

“Following you.” The black shadow strode toward her. “What in hell possessed you to come out to this gods forsaken place in the middle of the night?”

I was too curious. I have such a burning need to feel a part of something, to own my own space of ground even if it’s a haunted and hollow place, that I couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

All the truthful words were tangled and too revealing. She swallowed hard and snapped, “What I do or don’t do is none of your damn business. Stop walking.”

“You make no sense. Why on earth should I stop walking?” The black shadow still moved toward her with some unknown purposeful intent.

It unsettled her so much she dug out the Maglite, clicked it on and aimed it at his face.

What she saw startled her so badly she dropped the flashlight. “Jesus Christ.”

As Nikolas reached her, he bent to pick up the flashlight. He said coldly, “I assume that means you have the ability to see what the moonshadow reveals.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” she whispered, staring at him.